I got teased! A friend was passing through the Blog and commented that perhaps I was being a mite “precious” with regard to my views on Creativity being (essentially) a Gift, and the resultant Art-Works being gifts to humanity. I’m kinda paraphrasing but I gathered that was the gist of it. Well… I guess I do take it seriously. I do (perhaps over-zealously LOL) gratefully receive and appreciate them as I would presents, so… yeah.
But rather than run about like Neil from “The Young Ones” moaning, “Oh wow man, I’m being hassled!!!” I thought maybe I’d reply in a more reasonable manner
Ever since we gathered around the fires we built for our damp, darkened caves we have treasured our shared stories, enjoyed “movies” made with our fingers cast upon the rocky walls, and reflected upon paintings drawn with charcoal-covered sticks. The depicting of stories and scenes collected from our imagination has always been our entertainment, and have always sought to evoke and provoke emotion, amusement, suspense, fear, and every other conceivable feeling. The sharing, the presentation, has been the manner of transmitting these art-works among us and thus stimulating the ones who receive, witness and discuss, and then share further on.Â
In these cynical and crass modern times we all too often neglect or ridicule things which have intangible “worth” and even need to enquote words which formerly would have been appreciated but now are considered incomprehensible. As if people are thinking, “what, a story has value besides monetary?” In the immortal words of that sage Homer Simpson, “D’oh!”
Yes, stories do. They truly are “gifts” from whatever Creative Force, Muse, or whatever you want to call it, and delivered through their makers. Their source is that “thing” which inspires their creation, which is then replicated as best as the interpreter can design, and then given over to You, the Recipient. Do we really need to define it? No, we only need to receive the result. And these gifts are what we receive, whether a story printed on wood-pulp, a film realized and enacted out on celluloid, or paintings brushed and stroked onto canvas. Times have changed; we have not. Well, not that much, anyway, aside from our constant drifting away from the ethereal and falling ever deeper into this dense material world in which we find ourselves. The source of our art-works is timeless, and without form, and created from out of a void…
And so, I consider, say, the stories of Neil Gaiman as gifts because they evoke in me a sense of wonder and intrigue; I consider the music of Kate Bush to be a gift because it moves me so; I consider the paintings of Gustav Klimt a gift because of the imagery and visual stimuli that is so subliminal and provocative. Even anime which is dismissively (and foolishly) considered “just cartoons” in the west, combines all three of the above examples into an involved, and involving, whole. Aside from the cost of the medium and royalties righteously due their creators, these intangible effects and the reactions invoked cannot be “priced”. They are “price-less” indeed.  And I accept them gratefully as well.
So, when I describe my own novel as “a gift to the world,” it is only in this sense, and not spoken from someone with too great an estimation of his worth. After all, it was delivered to me, and I’m only presenting it to you in the same humble spirit as those who did in ages past. We are not so far-removed from our caves as we think
Speaking of wonderful stories, recently I came across a very beautiful one from Japan entitled Planetarian. Presented as a visual novel by Key (who later created another trio of favorite stories of mine, Kanon, Air, and Clannad), it’s delivered through the visual novel medium, which would most easily be compared to video-games. There is no “game” really, one just progress through the story by reading the text (thankfully it’s been unofficially translated), taking in the artwork stills, listening to the background music and voice actor (in this case just one, the voice of Reverie done so well by Keiko Suzuki), and continuing in this fashion until its melancholy end.
As utterly simplistic as it is, the combination of visuals, music, voice acting, and especially the story, come together to deliver a tale that is so amazingly involved, imaginative, and heart-wrenching that it’s impossible to keep the tears from flowing. Essentially, it takes place in an a post-apocalyptic world, where the main character, a salvager known only as “the Junker” comes across the rooftop planetarium and its broken robot assistant Yumemi (better-known as Reverie), who attempts to get him to help repair the broken projector, which she refers to as “Miss Jena”.
The “game” itself is very short; it usually takes around four hours to get through. But what a wallop it packs! Naturally, Wikipedia has an article but unfortunately also contains massive spoilers, so I can’t in good conscience link it. (If you do look it up, bear this in mind!) So I found a trailer for it on Youtube which portrays not only the premise, but uses as its backdrop the excruciatingly beautiful theme song, “Gentle Jena”. (It’s best enjoyed in fullscreen, so if you prefer, click the button.)
Wow! I got a reply from my (hoped-for-and-prospective) agent already!
She’s going off on her vacation, but within two hours of sending my Query wrote back to say that she’ll read over my submission (synopsis/first ten pages) upon her return
And she began her response with “Great googly-moogly!” LOL (-Hey, anyone who uses a Frank Zappa reference is okay in my book :PÂ ) She was a mite concerned about the novel’s 387,000-word length being a hard sell to publishers, given their publishing costs and also considering that I’m a first time author. Apparently this is about three times as long as a first-time author’s novel should be :(Â
She also said that it indicates that the length might mean that the writer may have fallen in love with his or her own words and overwrote. I’ve been well-aware of that pitfall, seeing that it’s touched upon in nearly all of the “how-to” books, such that when it came down to the (multiple) editing phases I wielded my scalpel mercilessly and cut everything extraneous. In fact, despite the novel’s length, it’s been honed really close to the bone. Naturally, I expect to be cutting more, if and when an editor actually reads it and makes his or her suggestions. At this point though, it’s as perfect as I can get it, and my First Readers didn’t have any problems in that area either. Much like Goldilocks, I feel that this porridge is “juuuuust right!”
I didn’t dare write back to inform her that I didn’t control, stifle, or bridle the Muse’s blessed input; the story is this long because it NEEDS to be this long, given the subject matter, various characters and their motivations, subplots, orchestration and so on. It’s really her story, and I just channelled it and wrote it down. It sure does cast an enchantment on Readers, judging from the feedback, so I’m assured that the novel works. And, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: She wrote this story just for You
That kind of stuff is rather hard to convey without sounding like a loony LOL
 Oh well. It is what it is, and, in the immortal words of Popeye, I yam what I yam!
I did point out that Susanna Clarke’s first novel, Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell, topped out at fifty pages longer than mine! Of course, I’m not in her esteemed company, but… someone with balls decided to take that work on! Gee, if only Neil Gaiman would take up my cause as well… *sigh*
Speaking of, I absolutely love Gaiman’s work; in a critical scene Lily is wearing a T-shirt featuring (identity snipped-no spoilers!) from his epic and wondrous The Sandman! One of my lesser-intents of Unbound was to act as a pointer to worthy works of others, and thus that reference and also the snippets of lyrics from Kate Bush, Tom Petty, and the poetry of olden and contemporary poets and works of classical writers, and other seminal beings of Light. I really want it to be a beacon in these dark and worrisome times…
By the way, his Blog can be reached from the sidebar; it’s very entertaining if you’re a fan of his work
Enjoy whatever it is that you’re doing, especially if going on vacation
Today I finally sent off my first really serious attempt at a Query Letter to a Literary Agent, one whom I’ve had my eye on for quite some time. I’ve made other attempts in the past, both to agents and publishers, but this one is Special. She seems to be right up my, and Lily’s, alley, and I’ve always felt that she is The One to get her story out into the World, despite the tight conditions to be met. Trying to condense Unbound’s tangled and involved plot into a two page synopsis has been a true nightmare, and I can’t count how many attempts I’ve made at this during the last couple of years, always coming away from those efforts with a high degree of disatisfaction, anger, and frustration.
There’s just no way to convey the novel’s intricacies or even hint at them without having to cross over the line of this limitation. Most of the main characters had to be left out, and so many important and integral themes, subplots, and explanations cut. I’ve spent days slicing, dicing, and polishing this synopsis, not to mention the Query itself… there’s just so much to appease, and even more to displease, which will always lend itself better toward disposal and rejection than simply taking the time to just appraise a petition on its own merits. Hopefully, this person, whom I got a really positive vibe from, will try to understand the full purpose of the novel’s Intent, and more importantly, see the Story it wants to tell…
In other news, nothing has happened yet on the house-selling front, although I did have a couple come by Sunday night out of the blue who seemed very interested. My Realtor hasn’t yet informed me that they’ve contacted her, so… could just be all talk and no action. *sigh* Meanwhile, the looming spectre of Foreclosure looms ever-closer. My last home sold the first day it was on the market in 2005. As of today, this much larger and more desirable property has been on it for over two months. Back to apartments for me. Not to mention reality…
Since 2001, every action I’ve taken since leaving the Bay Area, my family and my friends, has been given over to the undistracted writing of my book. The choosing of an ideal location, a “writer’s retreat” if you will, apparently has come back to haunt me. It’s in SUCH a remote area that not only passers-by pass it by, but it might be too far removed from the nearest city to be convenient for most other prospective buyers. Oh well, at least I can enjoy its tranquility while I wait for the other shoe to drop… it really is lovely
There’s not much to add on the reading or anime front, too much worry to be able to really relax and enjoy a good story guilt-free. I still apply for employment every now and then, but that deck seems stacked against me given my age and lack of recent employment activity. Too much competition and discrimination going on there for me to feel that I’ve got much of a chance. I’ll keep plugging away though… better than having to live out of my truck! Still, I have to say that it’s been worth it, because the novel turned out wonderfully and has been so well-received :D
As long as I don’t have to end up eating the manuscript
I’ll keep you posted of all events as they happen; until then, love, peace, and happiness to you and to yours
The good news: Unbound has long been finished, polished to perfection, and ready to feel itself lovingly caressed by a caring Reader’s hands, hopefully Yours, as a Book. The bad news is that getting published these days is a goddamn nightmare. That’s the best light in which I can describe it. Utterly loathsome process. (That’s another.)
Recently I came across an excellent article by Jonathan Karp in which he describes the perils of modern publishing and the needs for this bleak picture to drastically improve. I was gratified to read that he comes to the same conclusions and comparisons that I have, in that the publishing industry is in danger of going the same sad way as the music industry.  And quite frankly, if Companies are concerned only with the avaricious counting of pennies and publishing “Product” over substantive and genuine Art-Works, then they deserve such a fate. They are far too cynical (as is Society in general) to be in such a position of such great responsibility. Art ought to be worth something of a value not attributed to profit, and not common, disposable or inconsequential either.
Therefore, the money-changers ought to be cleared out, and responsible facilitators should take their place. Ideally, there should be NO HINDRANCE between the Creator/Artist and their Art, and the Recipient. That may be idealistic, but tough shit. That’s the deal. In the earliest days of cavemen, Celts, Greeks, and every civilization, there were no barriers between us. Now there is, and all in the name of Mammon. Just because “times have changed” is no excuse to lamely accept everything as is; of course they’re going to justify matters solely out of self-preservation. Yes, times have changed, and just as significantly, THINGS have got to change, again; back. While the Artist deserves fair recompense for his or her labors, a Company does not aside from manufacturing and service. If we can make a direct connection between artist and consumer, there will be no need for them anymore. They ought to bear this in mind.
The Contract between myself and Lily-the-Muse (who first began whispering this story to me over twenty-five years ago) agreed that it needed to be something of great importance, inspiration, and hoped-for-transcendence to be brought to as many readers as possible, of as many varied beliefs, reading skills, and intellects; that it would be a book of significance, permanence, and a reflecting back on the most classical of literature. In order to do this I gave up my family, my friends, my home, an income, anything familiar in surroundings, and pleasurable distractions of all kinds. I won’t go into the awful details about how empty life has become because Lily filled it up with such wonder, and the novel has turned out so well that I am extremely gratified. But I am spent; everything is, and my life is in danger of crashing down around my head, probably soon. I have faith in the miraculous but even that can only go so far in the harsh light of Reality. The emptiness is loud nowadays, and fearsome; as if I’m standing on the steel rails of some rushing, invisible, and portentous train. Too much time spent in Paradise; now it’s back to Hell… though I keep an ear out and an eye open for my angels
It might be said that I take the act of Creation too seriously; I don’t see how you can do that. If making something frivolous, then fine. If you don’t care, why should we? Then an agreement between both parties can be made that it is inconsequential. I don’t want to waste my time creating (or regarding) something so shallow, thin and transient. If you think about it, creating Something from Nothing is truly a reflection of a God-like act and should result in a Thing of equal effort and distinction. When I set out to write Unbound, I wanted to create something that not only would be timeless, significant-to-the-Reader, and world-changing, but also something that would reflect the essence of Creativity at every level. To explain this would probably read as tedious, so I’ll spare you. But yeah, I do take it seriously. I wanted to give You something precious, something of value, as much as it has been to Me. However, those persons responsible for enabling this will regard my work as being of no value or interest until I can prove its “worthiness” to them by how well I can jump through their asinine Marketing Hoops.
And therein lies the problem: In order to get one’s work published, especially a first-timer such as myself, there are innumerable petty and arbitrary “rules” that must be followed to “prove” that the work will be profitable and that you can write a proper query letter. For instance, some examples/implications: when describing it, don’t get all “artsy-fartsy” (i.e. dumb it down);  don’t let on that it’s your first book or that you’re unpublished (i.e. practice your deception); don’t start out your query with a question despite reading to the contrary that this IS a good way to begin one (i.e. remain off-balance and at their mercy because the rules can and will change at any whim or trend and you must prove you can adjust to the market on-the-fly), and on and on etc etc etc ad infinitum ad nauseum. THESE HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH THE STORY!
It’s been said time and again that agents and editors only read query letters JUST as far as the very first formatting error, word, or sentence they come across with which they can justify trashing it and go on to the next. Callous and calculating, all for the sake of an easier workload, pimping possibilities for their Product for which they’ll reap a reward whether in profit or prestige, and further bolstering the doors against those damned newcomers in order to keep their little Big Club exclusive. Bear in mind that around 80%-90% of Big Publishers only accept submissions if tendered by agents. Don’t even bother trying without one; they’ll toss unsolicited manuscripts in a New York minute. Which is ironic since they’re mostly all in New York City. And Agents are tougher to get than publishing deals these days. And so it goes…
Oh sure, I can understand it; I don’t have to like or support it however. And it’s not as if there’s a hand that’s feeding me which I’ve got to avoid biting
And so, since publishers and agents are so egotistically hell-bent on erecting these arbitrary barriers against access, I’m looking into other ways and means such as a possible graphic novel or even a western-styled anime, along with which the novel could be published as well. I so want to get my story into your hands that I would do it for free, as long as I got a living out of it. Seems a fair trade. Turns out I need an income to survive. Who knew?
Bitter much? Nah, but the truth hurts though, doesn’t it? But who gets hurt in the end? The Reader, just as the Listener gets screwed nowadays by the music industry. Like Frank Zappa once remarked on Larry King’s show, when King tried to get him to put down current artists (and this in the ’80s!). Frank just shrugged and said, “They’re putting out Product.” Right. Scan the music-and-bookshelves and behold the cookie-cutter pap put out in persistent attempts to hew to the bottom line of conformity. It’s all Product, and little of it of much worth or of lasting value. True Art ought to be something of substance, and worthy of the Recipient’s investment of their attention, money, and time spent in delighting in the Artist’s Work, whatever field that might be in: painting, sculpture, composition, performance, poetry, or storytelling, or anything created from out of an individual’s intellect, heart, or soul.
So yeah, my idealistic approach to my own act of creation may be derided as “artsy-fartsy” but it is sincere, and was sustained consistently over the years through great risk, sacrifice, and suffering. Frankly, I couldn’t give a shit if my idealistic attitude is regarded in such a shallow and derogatory manner because cynics such as those are most likely unable to appreciate the beauty of my particular and peculiar completed Art-Work. My concerns lie with Readers, not Critics; I wanted the recipient of my Gift to be personally rewarded as significantly, as thrillingly, and as transcendentally as possible, and that is the brush of Intent that I used when I painted my masterpiece, Unbound.
This song is in my mind; I kind of like the way Bob Dylan puts it in his “When I Paint My Masterpiece”:
Oh, the streets of Rome are filled with rubble,
Ancient footprints are everywhere.
You can almost think that you’re seein’ double
On a cold, dark night on the Spanish Stairs.
Got to hurry on back to my hotel room,
Where I’ve got me a date with Botticelli’s niece.
She promised that she’d be right there with me
When I paint my masterpiece.Oh, the hours I’ve spent inside the Coliseum,
Dodging lions and wastin’ time.
Oh, those mighty kings of the jungle, I could hardly stand to see ‘em,
Yes, it sure has been a long, hard climb.
Train wheels runnin’ through the back of my memory,
When I ran on the hilltop following a pack of wild geese.
Someday, everything is gonna be smooth like a rhapsody
When I paint my masterpiece.Sailin’ ’round the world in a dirty gondola.
Oh, to be back in the land of Coca-Cola!I left Rome and landed in Brussels,
On a plane ride so bumpy that I almost cried.
Clergymen in uniform and young girls pullin’ muscles,
Everyone was there to greet me when I stepped inside.
Newspapermen eating candy
Had to be held down by big police.
Someday, everything is gonna be diff’rent
When I paint my masterpiece.***Â
I still have my brush, and I want to use it some more… I need to.
Anyway, here’s some of what the few persons who have read the complete story have remarked about it (there are only four dedicated souls whom I’ve trusted enough): My very first First Reader Sam, who had done editing long ago for a well-known author, recently went over the MS of the final draft after not having seen it in four years. (A First Reader is one who proofreads a completed manuscript for grammatical, characterization, and continuity errors; Sam had proofed it twice in its first and second draft stages.) Some of what she said after finishing its 733 pages: “Rob, you’ve put your heart and soul into this story, and it shines through like gold. (…) This story is such a combination of extremely detailed spiritual content and basic, simple love story. The Golden Rule. What goes around, comes around. Karma, Fate, Free Will, Tarot Cards, Holy Bible. You’ve got it all.(…) You should be very proud of and pleased with all your hard work and commitment.”
My second First Reader, an Edgar-nominated fantasy author, Keith, has been highly supportive and loves the story, and especially Lily (for those visitors who don’t know, Lily Godwin is the main character). He’s been patiently trying to point me toward various publishers since 2004 when he read the third draft, but I’m too doubtful of their commitment and ability to produce and market my story on as large a scale as I want, and beyond the tiny window of support they’d provide upon its publication. Small houses and self-publishing won’t work either, as I don’t want to just sell a few hundred or a few thousand copies. That would be failing my commitment to my Muse, who wants to get her Story into as many hands as is possible, into as many countries as possible, and into as many languages as possible. It’s that kind of a story! (I don’t want to go into detail about what the Story is about over and above the tiny tidbits I’ve offered here; for various reasons I’m deliberately keeping things vague. Or trying to LOL)
My most recent First Reader loved it as well, and said that Unbound was “a work of genius, a masterpiece.” She was a classical literature major in school, and she “got” my more literary references and themes, which I’ve explained elsewhere. Also, this year an ex-girlfriend asked to read it as it’d been eight years since she last read any of it. As with the others, she was totally addicted to reading each chapter nearly as fast as I’d send them. She was reading it not as a critiquer but for the enjoyment, as a real Reader, like You
But, according to the latest Arbitrary Rules About Submitting Query Letters, these are also things you mustn’t mention. Querying has to be done a certain way, put just so delicately, and according to whatever the demands-du-jour are. I have all kinds of “how-to” books and very little is consistent. Of course, you only get one chance to make an impression on any one agent or publisher…Â
God, I am SO tired of this bullshit. To agents and editors, Look: I have a Story. Readers addicted to page-turning have loved it. Give it a try. It’s a real “Oprah Book”. ’nuff said. As for me, no, I’m not “professional”; I’m willing to learn.  I’m unpolished; polish me. I’m not savvy; illuminate me. I’m a quick study; I’m not stupid. I’m also not a poser, a phony, a fake, or a fraud. I’m a non-conformist, not on purpose. That’s just how it is. I don’t seek glory, fame, and fortune. All I want to do is tell stories, and make a reasonable living at it. The Novel will attract its own just reward; I want to honor my Deal with my Creative Muse and sell as many copies of Unbound as I can manage. That should make you happy, and You, and you. Oh, and me, and Lily as well :D
Anyway, that’s why it’s taken so long, aside from my survival issues and possible lack of a stable place of existence, which I’m working on. But publishing Unbound is my literal Reason For Being, and top priority. Aside from breathing and stuff. I’ll be working on that too
I’m in the process of selling my house, so other than that I’m not doing any other serious thinking, writing, blogging, or much of anything else, really. I feel guilty when relaxing and entertaining myself when I need to be focusing on survival matters. Priorities and etc. Speaking of those, I came across an excellent article which deals with the difficulties in and reasons why getting published in this day and age is so difficult; I’ve saved it for blogging purposes to be dealt with in the near future. Too serious for Right Now though, and I must put aside the pursuit of bringing Lily to life until I have a stable address, and life.
But all stress and no play makes Jack a fucked-up boy, so I am taking in some anime as a stress-reliever, especially since I had to break from it due to the above matters. A good anime is like enjoying a 6-12 hour movie with involving characters and story-lines that are thought-provoking, wondrous, and that touch on emotions and mental states that a CD, a movie, or a TV program (especially) can’t, don’t, or won’t provide.
Sometimes a song alone will do all of these; such is the case with “Binkan na Fuukei”, the very first music one hears from the anime Sola. It’s one of the most beautiful songs I’ve heard, and I’ll be sharing it with you shortly. Sola tells the story of Yorito, a student who loves to take pictures of the sky. He oftentimes ditches class to go alone onto the rooftop where he lies on his back, looking up at the sky, snapping picture after picture. All that we know (in the beginning) is that he loves it… I can’t link to the Wiki because some IDIOT included critical spoilers that would completely ruin the story for you. Some people… hmph.
In the anime’s opening moments, and while the song plays, gently, gently, one very early morning he arrives at a scenic viewpoint from which he can catch the sunrise and capture its light in his camera. He is setting up his tripod when he hears a sudden commotion behind him. He turns around to witness a vending machine being attacked by a beret-wearing girl intending on forcing it to give her a can of tomato juice it refuses to cough up. Her name is Matsuri. And so, the two meet; two solitary souls who have more in common than at first is apparent.
Matsuri cannot abide the sunlight, for reasons best left to the plot to reveal; but no, she is not a vampire. She, too, loves the sky, but has never seen the blue cloud-studded firmament. She often carries with her an umbrella, the underside of which is painted like the sky she can never behold, so that when opened she can always look up, and imagine…
This song from the first episode’s first moments drew me in and hooked me enough to watch the rest of the series; it enchanted me. Aside from the fact that Matsuri is a “Lily-like” (see unbound.org’s Lily section  for more), the story really spoke to me. Sola is a sort of play on words: the Japanese word for “sky” is “sora”, and in Spanish “sola” means “alone”. The tale is focused on these two solitary, solo, beings. Many of the supporting cast are solitary in nature as well: Aono, Yorito’s sister, confined to a hospital bed, folding origami animals; her erstwhile companion, the little Koyori, always so formal and inquisitive; and her older sister Mana, who happens to be Yorito’s classmate and friend. Even the darker characters, Takeshi and little Goth-loli Mayuko, are loners. But none of them ever lovers; rarely companions; which goes for all of them, for a time. You’ll meet them in a bit…
The namesake for this Blog is Alastor; in Shelley’s poem of the same name, the subtitle is “The Spirit of Solitude”. I’ve already mentioned that I’ve spent the last seven years in solitude while writing Lily’s novel, Unbound, and so it shouldn’t come as a surprise that I’m drawn to this theme, and this anime. In solitude one can tend to one’s Self, and can feel thought, emotion, and matter unfettered, and can live as freely as possible, given time to ruminate, philosophize, and reflect. And so, Alastor’s Reflection(s).
In solitude, one can find tranquility, that rarest of things. We have become such clamorous, crass, and cynical conflict-junkies that we’ve lost the ability to appreciate the virtues of quietude. Or virtues of any kind, for that matter, but that’s another topic. In large part, we’ve lost the ability to reflect upon ourselves and our world, or see the positive and beautiful things in it. We seem to only know what we’re exposed to in the media and the Internet, which necessarily are filled with material that is sensational, distracting, and noisome. Anything to get in your face and your attention, shortened as that may be, to sell their Product, whatever that may be. Tranquil, peaceful, and quiet things are frowned upon, for they bring us face to face with the enemy: our Self. There is no other. Anything to prevent us from thinking, reflecting, and feeling… because once we do, we would reject them.
And so, in this crazy-fast-paced time of tumult, trauma and distress, let’s allow for ourselves a moment of tranquility, hopefully conveyed to you through the song “Binkan na Fuukei”, played over a scenery of just-clouds-in-the-sky, just as the very first sight and scene of sola, just as the underside of Matsuri’s sky-painted umbrella…Â probably some things that we all need.
I’ll leave you with a clip taken from the last episode, number 15, which served as a sort of coda to the whole series, and depicts events leading up to Yorito and Matsuri meeting on that dark yet early morning. The song, also called “Sensitive Scenery”, starts at around 3:22, and includes the translated lyrics as subtitles. Please do enjoy, and take some time out for your Self… not self-ishly, but self-lessly
Okay, I’ve been bad. Apologies for not giving you anything of worth to read lately (if this is not assuming too much), but my enthusiasm has been lacking lately. I decided to put my house up for sale, and dealing with the various entities involved with this awful process has kept me without any energy or willpower to write anything, let alone be entertaining about it (unless this is… oh never mind LOL)
The upside is that I won’t be boring you with the details! Yay! I do have a good idea of where I’m relocating to, but it depends upon how long it takes to sell this place, in this horrible market, before I take those steps. First things first. If it takes too long… well, let’s not go there. If things do go well, I’ll feel like posting more regularly, and things will seem more interesting to me rather than worrisome. If not… well, see above.
Shortly I’ll be writing a piece on my novel, UNBOUND, as it’s about the only thing of interest to me. It’s my raison d’ etre, if you will I have had two more readers lately who have gone through the entire manuscript and are both highly delighted and loving it, so my enthusiasm in that area remains ultra-high, as it has always been. Thanks to feedback from my various readers my faith in the story remains unshakable. Now, to somehow get publishers and/or agents as interested… Therein lies the problem.
While waiting (and waiting) for Realtors to call and prospective buyers to drop in, I’ve been watching baseball games on the PC (I’ve been a Baltimore Orioles fan since 1963 when the S.F. Giants traded away my hero, Stu Miller). Such a great game; both relaxing and exciting, often at the same time! And… sometimes neither, but oh well. Gotta take the bad with the good :) I also did a 24 marathon from Season 5, as I’m a 24-diehard, junkie, and devotee. It’s also the ONLY television I watch, aside from occasional The Daily Show, The Colbert Report, and South Park episodes. I don’t like television all that much; it’s brain-rot, generally speaking. 24 is a major exception for me; I love it
I have yet to buy Season 6, but since I’m broke that won’t be happening very soon. Naturally, I did watch it, as I haven’t missed a minute since episode 3 of Season 1. Hm, well… come to think of it, I did miss one minute when someone decided to visit me despite my many warnings about “24 night”… before I slammed the door in his face. Oops! Doooon’t interrupt my 24 night! *shakes finger* (ESPECIALLY during the damn season finale!!!) God, that pissed me off LOLÂ
I also haven’t been taking in much anime, as I have to feel relaxed enough to fully enjoy it; I take it seriously and can’t devote myself to the stories while dealing with urgent, life-challenging situations such as the one I’m in. Once I’m settled I do plan on catching up I’m still involved with the 2008 International Saimoe League, which generally has been enjoyable, except for the Despair at seeing my little sweeties getting their asses kicked, hated on, and disparaged in the Animesuki forum dedicated to it. Poor little Ayu *cries*
One of the more recent and very delightful animes I’ve seen is entitled Kamichu! which reminds me of the highly regarded film (and Oscar winner) Spirited Away. Very whimsical and cute, it tells the story of middle-schooler Yurie Hitotsubashi, who wakes up one morning to discover that she’s been made a god. No explanation, no great transformation scene; she just very matter-of-factly accepts this turn of events and begins trying to cope with it. Apparently being a god involves quite a lot of effort. I might have figured that. The placing of fantastical creatures and other beings alongside the otherwise ordinary slice-of-life series really lends an air of fantasy that I haven’t often seen done so successfully, or so heartwarming.
Here’s a little pic that a kindly visitor passed on:
Cute, huh? A fish fishing for fish
Well, that’s about it for this time. Sorry it’s been so long; time has REALLY sped up! Dealing with the cleaning, packing, gardening, and the various attendant aches and pains haven’t left me in the mood to beat this (seemingly) dead horse of a Blog. But I’ll be back; there are simply too many stories to tell! I’ll have to get around to the telling of Cathy and her brother Georges and daughter J.T., whom I recently was able to get back in touch with … now THAT tale will be of interest, I believe (Cathy was a French girl who introduced me to Jimi Hendrix and Eric Burdon when I was 16; a lot of people have enjoyed it, so I’ll be happy to share it someday!)
Be well, and stay happy, because life is all too short…
Just a quick post to let you know that I’m, yes, still alive (yay for me!), although highly distracted due to survival issues. I’ll spare you the details (you’re welcome), but they’re pretty involving and necessarily eating up my time. Anything explanatory might read as “boo-hoo, poor poor pitiful me”, and there are so many of those among us who are truly unfortunate having their own troubles that mine would fail to compare. So do pity those poor souls, as I’m living on Faith still trying to get by, though that is an extremely risky proposition. I’d recommend it to anyone, however, if you’ve the steel to deal with it… and most folks are much too sensible/rational/realistic to take such risks as I have. It’s a tough world, and Life is hard, sometimes…
Once things sort out I’ll post the results here, but one false step and I’ll be sliced to bits, and back at the drawing board, in several pieces. Learning to print once again. Probably with fingernails.
Stay tuned… and thank you for your kind attention.
I was finally able to watch Lars and the Real Girl last week, and since it’s so obviously a subject close to my heart thought I’d write up a review of this wonderful, heartwarming movie. I was really hesitant to see it at first, because movies and shows about dolls almost always focus on the “creepy” factor, and predictably end up with the hero “coming to his senses” and destroying, disposing of, or leaving behind his artificial companion in favor of a more socially-acceptable resolution. Much to my surprise and delight, Craig Gillespie’s direction combines with Nancy Oliver’s brilliant writing and together they produced a film that is memorable, funny, and provocative, in the sense of using the doll as a device to bring people together rather than the cliched conflict-heavy plots of the more pedestrian (and forgettable) films of the past.
But the star of the show (other than Bianca-Doll) is Ryan Gosling, who brings forth an incredibly deep and realistic portrayal of Lars as a sweet, gentle, yet troubled young man, not because of his need for or his interaction with a life-sized doll, but someone in the grips of a crippling loneliness which leads to his manifesting his delusion into flesh, albeit silicone flesh. Such a convincing and rich performance should not be missed; Ryan brings to Lars a unique perspective and flawless depiction of a young man seeking love without even knowing it, making his choices in the best way that he knows how, given his isolated and cramped comfort-zone. Despite the apparent fantasy of his delusion, he brings the role to life with real understanding, and his interactions with Bianca are so true-to-life despite the unlikelihood of his situation. Not many viewers will likely relate to it, but they will to Lars’ genuine attempts to break the shell that he lives in.Â
From an interview included on the DVD, he says this: “Lars is very lonely, but he doesn’t make a choice out of loneliness to be loved; he makes a choice to love something.”Â
But how can one find love when wrapped so tightly in a cocoon of solitude? How can one deal with that crushing solitude in the presence of everyone else’s (presumably healthy and happy) relationships? And, how can one cope with the lack of happiness without imposing his bleak outlook or “problem” on his loved ones and companions? Lars doesn’t know, but he’s about to find out, with the help and support of his family and friends, and Bianca. I’ll admit to finding the likelihood that everyone in the town would be so tolerant rather than riding him out of town on a rail as unrealistic, but that contrast is exactly the charm of this film, and it offers hope that we as a society might do the same and be kind, wise, and tolerant rather than the cynical and derisive beings that we’ve become.Â
Early on, one scene stuck out in its starkness: Lars sitting alone in his garage-home, in the dark, and isolated in every aspect despite the affectionate invitation just shown him by Karin. It’s as if he can’t feel anything warm or loving, every bit as much as he can’t tolerate being touched, which he so obviously needs to be. Dagmar tries (with varying degrees of success) but Lars is resolute; it hurts him when someone displays any physical affection.Â
 The supporting cast is wonderfully chosen and there isn’t a false note out of any of them: Paul Schneider as Gus, Lars’ incredulous brother; Emily Mortimer as Karin, Gus’ concerned wife, Kelli Garner as Margo, Lars’ cute co-worker, and Patricia Clarkson as Dagmar, the wise and understanding doctor who “treats” Bianca, but really trying to help Lars deal with his delusion that Bianca is a living person. When they (and all the townspeople) begin to accept Bianca as exactly that, Lars begins his journey out of his cocoon, and emerges, if not triumphantly, then gracefully, beautifully; like a butterfly…
At church, in another early scene, the preacher says, “Love one another. That is the one, true law. Love is God in action.” You don’t need to be a believer to believe that (It should come as no surprise to those who know me that, given my own manifestation of my character of Lily Godwin as a Realdoll, that this is a prominent message that runs through her novel as well. See her section and the excerpt on Unbound.org for details.) Â
So the film isn’t so much about a man and his life-sized “sex doll” but rather about the doll bringing everyone together to help someone they love. In fact, one of my favorite things about Lars is that it never focuses on the sexual aspects of the doll (other than the townpeople’s hilarious reactions); Bianca is truly a “love doll”. That is a significance that everyone needs to understand, and get their minds out of the ever-convenient-and-present gutter. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I guess. Only the uninitiated (and outright horn-dogs lol) consider them as simply sex toys. Given how society is these days that is sadly unsurprising. So, all we can do is break that assumption down, and Lars succeeds in this manner spectacularly.
I took extensive notes during the flim; here are a few from the hastily-jotted selections; they are written so as to avoid spoilers:
The Realdoll website in the film is only partly “real”; they don’t use the cheesy voiceovers of the dolls shown in the film which come out like any porn-flick actress’ would. But yes, the combinations with all the options available is in the millions, as Director Gillespie says in the short documentary. This is how I got Lily to look so convincingly close to how I imagined her in the story (some pics of her are shown well below this post).
A good example of how the dolls serve the observers’ imagination was shown when Karin begins talking to Bianca about her job, and how the townspeople used Bianca to provide them with what they wanted, a librarian, church member, even a mirror for their own beliefs as to how a woman should be treated. A doll (any doll) is a toy for the imagination; or, you might say, a tool. And a fertile imagination is a good thing
Dagmar’s first meeting Bianca, and examining her in front of Lars: “Her blood pressure’s low.” Later, when talking with Karin and Gus, who’s distraught at his brother’s delusion, she says, “Bianca is real. She’s in town for a reason.”
At their first breakfast, where an obviously disgusted Gus is not feeling well enough to go to work, Lars suggests that Bianca might help him get better, as “she’s had nurse’s training.” Pushed over his limit, Gus responds, “No, she doesn’t have nurse’s training - she’s just a big, plastic thing!” Ignoring the remark (or refusing to hear it), Lars turns to Bianca and turns back to Gus. “Did you hear that? Bianca says that’s why God made her - to help people.”Â
When Gus tells his co-workers about Bianca, one of them says, “Wish I had a woman who didn’t talk.” This misogynist statement is about as common as is that uttered by other ignorant folk such as, “The dolls are creepy and so are those who own them.” But as that isn’t exactly misogynist, I’ll settle for reprobatist. If that’s even a word. In any case, both are too common, but typical given the lack of awareness and sensitivity we have towards each other these days.Â
Interesting to note Lars’ co-workers who treasure action-figures and teddy-bears, giving them their affections; at one point a church member chastises another intolerant member with, “Your cousin dresses his cat up and (another) gives donations to a UFO society!” So, what is “weird,” exactly? Whatever the flock of sheep doesn’t accept as the safely-weird du jour? That changes daily, and who cares to even want to keep track of what they deem acceptable? I guess those that need to belong… need to be approved of… need to be seen as “unthreatening” to the flock/herd/masses. A doll threatens that because she (or he) can be a replacement for those lacking in tolerance but who demand tolerance of their disdain. And that’s unacceptable to them because they need to have those they can flog.
Lars comments about Bianca were insights into himself, using the doll as a proxy therapist: He is going to take her to the lake, and explains to Gus, “Bianca’s asking me all these questions -she wants to know all about me.” At Dagmar’s, after a pitying remark, he says, “She doesn’t feel sorry for herself. She just wants to be normal and have everyone treat her normal.” Later on, he is reading to her from a book, the passage says: “But what distressed him greatly was not having another hermit there to confess him.” So, even though he can’t explain it well to others, Lars is very self-aware, and knows what he wants, and needs. Bianca is truly helping him to come to terms with what these things might be.
Margo to Lars when she’s in a down mood regarding a breakup: “He wasn’t that interesting.” Lars: “Then why was he your boyfriend?” Margo: “I get lonely.” “Oh yeah?” “Yeah…” Which, aside from just feeling lonely, does address a problem we have today in this give-it-to-me-quick society: Hasty relationships based on initial physical attraction without a thought toward what the person is really like or a true compatability, as long as one can be seen as “involved” which is much rather preferable than being seen as single, or a loner, or worse…Â Â But loneliness is common to everyone; dealing with it is how we escape that void. And Lars, with Bianca’s help is trying…
I have to admit loving Margo; Kelli Garner, the actress who portrays her, was so good, and so cute (I’d have definitely approached her right away lol) I don’t want to give too much away, but I noted Lars’ difficulties with Bianca emerging right after he sees Margo getting involved with another co-worker.  After he and she go bowling together, there’s a short deleted scene where Lars approaches Bianca who’s sitting in the tub; but clearly he’s feeling more distant, troubled over his enjoyable time with Margo. Fully-clothed, he gets in the tub, but doesn’t communicate, except for a feeble, “Hi.”
Another brief scene which I enjoyed was from another sermon at church, where the preacher quoted, “When I was a child, I spake as a child. I understood as a child…” I’m not sure, but I think that this might have been used in Wim Wenders’ remarkable film (and my favorite) Wings of Desire (which coincidentally is a story that someone compared Lily’s novel to.)
One of the final touching scenes was when Bianca was feeling unwell, and Karin asked through the shut bedroom door after getting no responses, “Bianca? Don’t you want to see this beautiful day?” And so the door opens… and when that happens, as the saying goes…
I liked the Fellini quote at the end: “If there were a little more silence, if we all kept quiet… maybe we could understand something.” Brilliant!
And this from Director Craig Gillespie: “The premise of the movie doesn’t do justice for the journey you go on.” That’s exactly the problem I’m having with selling Lily’s story. Too many query requirements demand you describe that, and some things are just too inexpressible to be done as concisely as they demand, and need to be directly experienced by the recipient of the work. Namely, You
In short, as Craig says (I think), “the movie is about people communicating with each other and coming together, and about connecting, and the doll is a conduit for that.”
And, it’s about Love. This is a scene from the anime series Rozen Maiden, which tells of those magical (ball-jointed) dolls’ adventures. Jun, the young protagonist, is visiting the doll-maker’s shop, and is speaking to Enju, the dollmaker, who says, “The feelings you put into a doll are all the same. As long as you pour love into them, they continue to live.” Jun: “Love…” Enju: “When love disappears, they die. They become lost. No matter who it is.” He cradles his newly-made doll, smiles, and says to it, “Hello.”
There is more to Life, and Love, than meets the eye. Lily hopes that you may read her story one day to discover this, and that
Kudos to all those who got together to make this film: producers, director, writer and actors. It is truly wonderful! Nancy Oliver said that she got the idea from visiting a doll-forum where doll-owners who don’t treat their dolls as simple sex-receptacles exist, and rumor says that a handful of us might have provided the portraits around which her story was framed. If so, she gets a heartfelt thanks for portraying us not as misfits of society, but people worthy of being understood. While none of us are delusional (I don’t think!), she definitely “gets” the relationships between us and our dolls. It’s only as weird as you think; therefore, any problems lie not with us…
Whether you’re intrigued by the dolls or not, everyone should see this film for the lessons in tolerance and deeper understanding it teaches. Thanks to the creators and the actors who so deftly delivered The Word
Well, I actually had to go to the hospital emergency room yesterday to see to this neck problem, as it simply wasn’t getting better, but worse. I found myself unable to sleep a wink, settling for two-and-three hour “naps” which led to an increasingly less-stable frame of mind and a constant awful pain in my right arm and hand. Needing to be figuring on (a) getting the employment issue resolved, and (b) fixing my truck so that I could actually GO to the interviews, and (c) needing to be reasonably healthy, physically AND mentally, for said interviews, and (d) alertly keeping up with publication/submission/querying procedures, I arrived at the conclusion that the medical issue needed tending to first.
So, I dropped off my truck to a repair shop which was two blocks from the hospital and ventured back into the Health Care System after not having even seen a doctor since 2002. *knocks wood* -been fairly healthy for the most part. Compared to Kaiser, this hospital was a blessing… ONE person in the waiting room, and as streamlined a process as possible. Shortly after being led into the room a doctor came in and after the Q&A prescribed me some 800 Motrins and Vicodins. It’s been so long since I had Vicodin I’d forgotten how they were… and for good measure he also gave me an injection of Vicodin …WITH STEROIDS!!! WTF?
Oh well, he’s the doc, right? Injections don’t bother me (unless they’re in my mouth lol) so I rolled up my sleeve. He said, “We can either give it to you in your arm or in your butt.” I thought “oh please don’t put it that way.” But images of Roger Clemens entered my mind (well, sort-of) and I figured if he can take it that way then I can. Except for the cheating aspect and if he actually did. But I think the last time I got a shot in my ass was sometime in the ’60s or thereabouts, and whatever it was made me so sore I couldn’t sit afterwards. The doc said that it would take a day to kick in but it’s generally better there than in the arm, since a lot of fluid had to be injected. Again, I had to (silently) question the doc’s choice of words. So, manning it up (I suppose) I dropped my drawers. He cleared his throat and said, “Actually, we just inject it in the hip.” WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY THAT IN THE FIRST PLACE?” Hastily I pulled my pants back up and he nipped me in the hip; I barely felt it.Â
Now, I’m feeling it, but definitely not any pain. That is for sure. So, all things considered, Motrin 800 + Vicodin tablet + delayed reaction from Vicodin shot PLUS Steroidal juice = pretty-much diminished pain, at last. Yay, (legal) bliss!
I’ve had to reduce my time at the PC since that’s probably what kicked off the pinched nerve in the first place (likely due to marathoning Sayonara Zetsobou Sensei for 6 hours while keeping my arm poised over the spacebar to pause the video in order to read the numerous and constantly-changing blackboard quotations -don’t ask lol). So that means sporadic Blog-updating until this condition clears; in the meantime I’ll be doing some serious relaxing, which is something I rarely get a chance to do. Anime-watching is not relaxing but involving for me, so instead I’ve been catching up on movies I’ve missed, like Lars and the Real Girl, which I hope to review here next; a wonderful quirky little film, excellently acted and written/directed. And, you might say that I do have a vested interest, as does Lily (and by extension, Eden too).
 Thanks for reading, and until next time it’s Sayonara Zetsobou Sensei (aka “Goodbye Mister Despair” LOL!)…
I just came across the most amazing AMV (Anime Music Video) combining Haibane Renmei and Kimi ga Nozomu Eien, also known as Rumbling Hearts in The Western World. Both of these anime are in my “sacred circle” of masterpieces of story-telling; un-rankable, incomparable, and so very memorable. For a very (necessarily) brief description of Haibane, see the post two entries below this one, or the Wiki for it, here. I’m happy to say that I managed to track down apparently the last box set of it at RightStuff, but they still have single copies left of all four DVDs, and very reasonable priced!
Rumbling Hearts is a highly emotional love story that is among the most dramatic I’ve ever seen. It circles around three young people: the male protagonist Takayuki, and the two other points to this triangle, Haruka and Mitsuki. Mitsuki sets Takayuki up with Haruka while they’re still in high school, despite having deep but concealed feelings for him herself. Haruka is involved in a horrible accident and becomes hospitalized; the story deals with the subsequent consequences. It unflinchingly portrays the affects of post-traumatic stress syndrome, numbing guilt, aspirations failed and fulfilled, and self-sacrifice. I’ll leave the rest to the handy Wiki for it, which you’ll find here.
In this AMV, entitled “Reflections”, the creators have masterfully excised Rakka from Haibane and essentially re-animated her into clips from Rumbling Hearts, where she replaces Haruka, and the concepts of both anime become a brand new story, told through the lyrics of the song “Do You Know…” by Maksim (it’s in Russian, but well-translated with subtitles). If you go to the YouTube page for it you’ll find a lengthy information post detailing everything in the production, and story background. I highly suggest doing so, as you can then maximize the video to fullscreen and get the full effect. It really seems as if Rakka is singing/telling the story to you, and sharing and showing it to you. The amount of work involved is unimaginable and must have taken weeks if not months to produce. I should point out that you don’t need to have knowledge of the stories in order to enjoy this video, as the beautiful song provides a new one for the appropriate imagery.
Welcome to Alastor's Reflection, the re-imagining of Fingal's Cave; a much more suitable environment than that poor soul's indwelling. Fingal resumes his journey in the pages of UNBOUND, while another solitary Spirit remains in this Place to muse with his Muse on the pursuit of "Life, Joy, Empire, and Victory," and the beauties therein...
