I’m procrastinating. And in moments of procrastination, I blog. And in case in moments of procrastination you read blogs, I present for your viewing pleasure a list of my most treasured lip-locking moments in cinema. I’m stealing this idea quite shamelessly from Katy Regnery, who blogged about her favorite movie kisses a few weeks ago.
Follow me below the fold…
I had to write a one-sentence summary of my forthcoming book Special Interests and it turned out pretty well so I thought I’d share.
A shy labor organizer and an arrogant congressional aide clash over the federal budget but find love the more difficult negotiation.
Is it April yet?
Like any good American on the day after Thanksgiving, I’m in a bit of a food coma. Not a tryptophan coma–I don’t like and therefore never make turkey; yes, I know, I should revisit that “good American” thing–but a definite one-too-many-helpings-of-pumpkin-pie, why-yes-one-more-roll-would-be-lovely haze. So today’s selection has to be food-related. And my favorite food-related romance is Wong Kar-Wai’s Chungking Express.
We’ve already talked about In the Mood for Love, which is a stunning film, though ultimately not a genre romance. Chungking Express is, however. It’s upbeat, charming, and very very romantic. It’s a perfect post-Thanksgiving fine romance.
It tells two love stories about heart-broken cops in mid-90s Hong Kong. In the first (which is a fairly brief amuse-bouche), a nameless cop waits a month to move on after his girlfriend breaks up with him, meting out a piece of pineapple every day as he works through his grief and memories. When the month is up, he meets a mysterious drug smuggler and invites her up to his room. Things don’t go as planned. In the second story, a young woman working at a fast food noodle place is in love with a cop she serves everyday. He’s too busy nursing a broken heart to notice. Until he does. The end.
Let’s count what’s good here. 1) Tony Leung. Basically, I think he’s incredibly sexy and I’d watch him read the phone book. With subtitles. 2) Michael Galasso’s music, both the original score and the soundtrack choices. This film has the best cinematic use of The Mamas and the Papas’ “California Dreamin'” ever. 3) Christopher Doyle’s cinematography. Doyle and Wong Kar-Wai have a long history of working together, including on In the Mood for Love. But while the cinematography of ITMFL calls attention to itself, almost takes over the film, here it’s invisible and innovative until it does something so casually brilliant that it changes how you understand the profilmic events. Here’s a thoughtful analysis of a 22-second shot from the film that encapsulates the longing in the second story perfectly. 4) The use of classic cinema and longing. In my haze, I’m not going to be able to say this as well as I’d like, but the film uses filmic nostalgia as a stand-in for nostalgia for the past. In the context of the two stories (not to mention the film’s visual coding), it’s a perfect metaphor.
This all makes it sound very pretentious and it’s not. Chungking Express is delightful. If you haven’t seen any Wong Kar-Wai, it’s the perfect place to start. I’ll be watching it with dim sum tonight!
There are times–entire weeks of my life actually–when I forget that I have books releasing next year. Two of them. And then I remember and minor panic attacks ensue.
What if no one reads my book? What if no one likes my book? How am I going to get people to read and like my book?
The book in question is the one formerly known as The Easy Part, now known as Special Interests. It will appear in an ebook store near you on April 4, 2014. And while the back cover copy, excerpts, etc. are forthcoming, this morning, in a fit of panic, I created a playlist for the book. Because that’s how you sell books: with an enticing playlist.
Regardless, if you use Spotify and want to listen to the most-played tracks from when I was writing the first draft a year ago, you can check it out here.
In the meantime, I’ll be over here having a panic attack.
So which one of you is going to write me a novel about one of these two guys?
(This is a meditation on how I read. Here are my thoughts on why and what.)
As you probably know I wrote a book, a historical romance set during the American Civil War called Brave in Heart. It released in July and a handful of people read it. Some went so far as to write things down about it. Some of the things were joyous and celebratory, others were more measured or censorious, but still: people read what I had written and said thoughtful things about it. All together, it was one of the nicest intellectual experiences I’ve had.
In becoming an author, in adding creator to reader and scholar in my list of bookish roles, I began to wonder about the process of reading–and not just reading but evaluation. How do we do it? And how should we?
Ten years ago Love, Actually released. I was reminded of this yesterday when I read this article about what we’ve learned from it.
This makes me feel old. I was in college at the time and I saw it in theaters, though fairly late in the game because I’m really distrustful of movies with too many major stars and in 2003, it would have been difficult to cram more famous British actors into a single film than Love, Actually did. (Remember, most of the Harry Potter films hadn’t released yet.) I only relented when everyone I knew saw it and insisted it was terrific.
In the intervening decade, Love, Actually has entered the canon not just of romantic comedies, but also of holiday movies. It’s a staple on American TV in November and December. It’s the kind movie I can use as an example in class with confidence that most of my students will have seen it. It’s also this week’s fine romance selection–the first one since August!
Above the fold, I’m going to do a typical fine romance Friday rah-rah-rah post. But I have really complicated feelings about the movie, so if you want to see my spoiler-y, critical commentary, follow me below the fold.
Love, Actually is definitely one of the best romantic comedies of the last twenty years. It’s set in contemporary London and concerns inter-connected characters and stories playing out over the six weeks leading up to Christmas. There are happy stories and sad stories. New love and old love. Romantic love, platonic love, and familial love. It’s sweet and charming and delightful.
Though the background is Christmas-y, it’s a largely secular film and one that’s designed to make you feel good without feeling used. (Though after I took the narrative apart as I’ll demonstrate below, I did feel a bit manipulated.)
I’ll be watching it tonight with something red and festive and trying to find some holiday spirit.
I don’t mind writing synopses. In fact, I find writing synopses helpful.
If you write long-form fiction, you probably just said aloud, “That’s crazy.” If you don’t write fiction…this post might be confusing.
A little background: a synopsis is a short summary of what happens in a book. Not like a blurb (e.g., what you read on the back of the book), a synopsis runs through the major action and the beats of characterization. Synopses tend to be between 3 to 5 double-spaced pages in length, though I’ve heard they need to be longer if you’re pitching a project you haven’t written yet. You need a synopsis for contests, pitches, and queries and also when you turn in a manuscript.
Suffice it to say most writers rank writing synopses only slightly below getting a root canal on lists of their least favorite things to do. How do you take a 250 – 300 page book and reduce it to approximately 1000 words? If your beautiful plot could be condensed, wouldn’t you have condensed it in the first place?
I’m not going to participate in NaNoWriMo this year.
It was a difficult decision but I just finished a book and I’m on the cusp of finishing another non-creative project, plus there’s day job stuff and the holidays. I want to write in November–I want to write a lot in November–but NaNoWriMo would be unhelpful pressure.
In the two years I’ve done it, I’ve never won. I wrote about 30,000 words the first year I participated and just shy of 35,000 words last year, but I owe NaNoWriMo a great deal, including my entire career as a creative writer. I’d started the odd fictional thing before, but I’d never finished anything longer than a short story.
To inspire those who may be NaNoWriMo-ing, or considering it, here’s the opening of the book I started exactly two years ago today. There is so much here that’s bad. It’s fueled by insta-lust and relies on two strangers quoting Wallace Stevens to each other–which is one nerdy fantasy. And those are only the beginning of reasons this novel will never see the world outside of my hard drive.
Reading this reminds me how far I’ve come and how far I have to go. So get writing!
So I lied when I listed my favorite words. You’re shocked, I know. But I left two off. My two favorite words are “the end.” Only when used together of course. They don’t much for me separately. But as a pair they are magic.
I spent NaNoWriMo last year writing a book that I’ve been calling The Easy Part (the title is going to change; stay tuned). Then I sold that book to Carina. I realize you’re probably not supposed to say this but it was a fairly straightforward book to write. I understood Millie and Parker so well. I understood the conflict between them. I understood so many of the major scenes. The book feels like a movie in my head, one that I needed to figure out how to pour onto the page.
That isn’t to say I always achieved what I wanted to in terms of the writing. Oh no. It fails in ways too various and sundry to list here. And revising that book was difficult and circular and I’m not half-certain I did it well. But my main concern in writing the first draft was always, “Am I achieving my vision?” Not “what happens next?” or “is that what he would do?” The problem, in other words, was one of translation.
This spring, I started the sequel to The Easy Part, which features two minor characters from it. I felt strongly that they should be together. But when I told anyone about it, the response was always, “Really?” Adamant, I strode out…only to get stuck in the mire.
This was not an easy book to write. Writing on a deadline was scary. Writing with a more limited sense of audience was scarier. Writing and revising at the same time was the scariest. But yesterday, I typed “the end.” Today I skimmed through it and finally felt the words. And at some point next year (or whenever it releases), you’ll be able to read through the crazy, scandalous, opposites-attract story. Please come back then and let me know how I did.
Emma Barry 