Wednesday, January 25

A debate on two words

A reader recently recounted a debate he and a roommate had while reading Chronicle of Angels and Men


The Circuit Angel Chronicles
You know -- this thing.

As the story went, he had just taken a break from reading, setting the book down on the coffee table. Some time later his roommate picked up the novel and flipped through it. He began reading when he came across a certain phrase which gave him pause. He turned to his roommate and asked what the phrase meant, but upon hearing his roommate's attempted explanation, he immediately rejected it. The two-word phrase (which I'll reveal momentarily) then sparked an hour-long debate between the two as to just what the phrase meant and frankly, if it made any sense at all. And after going back and forth multiple times and even awaying to the internets for research, the two finally resolved the argument by agreeing to disagree.


So just what was it that triggered this hour-long back and forth rough and tumble? Well, it was two words: proofless existence.


When the reader revealed to me the words which had brought him and his roommate to such debate, my eyes lit up. I knew exactly the excerpt he was talking about (But I suppose I should have -- It is my book, after all. And I have read it now going on no-doubt 30+ times from the editing period.) But to give you the full context of phrase, here's the excerpt where it appears: 


"And so naturally I knew of no better way to enrage him than to reject his teachings, vigorously and beginning with the concept of God.  In truth, my rejection of his belief system was not just my repayment for his lack of parenting.  Though it may have begun that way, very soon I had actually come to believe his credence to be little more than baseless theorem and superstitious conjecture.  To me, God did not exist.  Moreover, the more we butted heads over my refusal to accept his proofless existence, the more I lost respect not only for him but for anyone pledged to his same methods of thought."
          Chapter One - Godless, Chronicle of Angels and Men (COAAM)

To me the phrase made perfect sense, as it did to the reader recounting the tale. (I might be just ever so biased...) Perhaps it makes perfect sense to you too. But then, if there's anything creating work for public consumption has taught me, it's that there are certain aspects of writing I take for granted. That seemed to be the case with the above passage anyways. And to be honest, I never really stopped to specifically deconstruct the meaning of just what "proofless existence" might mean to someone else.


To supply the counterpoint the reader's roommate was advocating, proofless existence as a phrase was an oxymoron. You know, one of those figures of speech which seem contradictory in nature, like cruel kindness or military intelligence...



...Or this guy.
For something to exist, there had to be proof of its existence. And if there was proof of something -- not just evidence, but actual proof -- then it had to exist, right? It didn't mean anything, he said.

Hmm. I hadn't thought about it that way. I mean, the phrase certainly meant something to me, but then anything we do is colored either consciously or subconsciously by our own experiences, our own perspectives, and our own biases, particularly when it comes to writing. In writing COAAM I in part sought to explore the meaning of what is God and how our definitions of religion and spirituality vary by culture, ethics, morality, etc. But in this phrase alone perhaps was built in an assumed baseline definition of God -- that any who would believe in a supernatural being such as God would not need proof, that is, that faith alone would be a sufficient substitute for proof.


Well, that was my thought behind it, but maybe the phrase does mean different things to different people. Or maybe just nothing at all! But I like to think there's room for debate. ~Tet

Thursday, January 19

On editing and the six million dollar man

"No passion in the world is equal to the passion to alter someone else's draft." - H.G. Wells


Perhaps an equally apt addendum to this quote would be "I would rather cut off my own finger than edit anything I ever wrote for another person's eyes." Now this colorful little addition... is not in any way an old saying (at least not to my knowledge) as evidenced by the fact that I made it up not more than two minutes ago. But ask any writer, and I'm sure he or she would gladly echo the same sentiment.


I certainly would.


I'm still in the thick of editing my second novel, and it is a hell - perhaps the level that Dante missed. Editing is an essential part of writing, of course, particularly when writing for an audience. In fact, by the time this very post goes up, I will have myself edited it at least half a dozen times. (I've edited it twice already.) It's very much a slash and burn process. In reality, nobody's first draft ever goes to publishing, regardless of the author. Why? Because writing is an arduous process. And laborious. It's writing and rewriting and phrasing and rephrasing. Cutting, tearing, breaking, shaking, gluing, reusing... Editing, as a process, is continuous destruction and construction: breaking down all the elements of your story and rebuilding them better, stronger, faster... (Bonus points to anyone who catches the reference.)


We can rebuild him...

I've been writing for what seems like forever, mostly for myself and for my art. And so in writing my first novel I thought I was familiar with the deconstruction/reconstruction process that is editing. Boy, was I wrong.


See, editing is so much more than running spellcheck and avoiding dangling participles. It's checking for continuity errors with the plot, the timeline, and characters. It's examining scenes in and out of context, checking to see what works and what doesn't. It's ensuring emotions are consistent, characters are believable, and all in all that the reader actually grasps whatever story or message the author is so clumsily attempting to convey. And it's about finally finishing your ten chapter manuscript only to do a final read through and realize four chapters just don't work... oh wait, that's me! (Oh, the humanity!)


Editing is letting go and giving in and giving up and finally getting over it. You'll write and rewrite and attempt to salvage many an unsalvageable passage until finally the better part of common sense kicks in, and you just fling that phrase into the round file where it belongs.


Now also housing broken dreams, college diplomas,
and that raise your boss promised three months ago...

But that's the process. It's a grueling experiment by far, but then most every story worth telling is. If writing is about putting an author's thoughts to paper, editing is about trying to capture those thoughts unknown even to the author. As you can expect, that part's not easy!


So embrace this process! It's unavoidable for any writer worth his weight in ink, electronic or otherwise. (And, P.S., don't forget to run spellcheck! Seriously!) ~Tet

Thursday, January 12

My travel corner

This corner of my dresser may look like clutter to the layman, but it's actually my small collection of travel trophies.

San Diego, Buenos Aires, Harajuku, Kamakura, etc. are all represented.
Though let's just ignore the lip gloss sitting there from my local Walgreen's.

2012: A year in mistakes

Yes, that's 2012. Not 2011. In 2011, all was perfect. Yup! No mistakes here.

But in 2012, I plan to make mistakes. Huge mistakes. Gargantuan ones (well, maybe not gargantuan...). But in 2012, my goal is the test the resilience of human dignity and flexibility.

Or something like that.

Actually, I have no idea what I want to do with my life. If you knew my age, that might sound like a silly thing to say, but it's true. At one time I wanted to be a doctor. So I started in college as a medical student. Then I became an art student, then a language student. Since graduating college, I've been a freelance artist, a manager, an illustrator, an author. Phew. I know variety is the spice of life, or so they say, but whoever this "they" is has probably never heard the saying "Everything in moderation."

But who knows really? I mean for myself, each of these changes -- "course corrections," I like to call them -- I think has made me just a little happier. Would I have been satisfied with life had I stayed in medicine? Perhaps. (My bank account certainly would have been.) But the change, as terrifying as it was at the time, was necessary -- both for my happiness and for sanity's sake. (Organic Chem was a beast...)

There was a really amazing quote from Neil Gaiman earlier this year (or maybe late last year?) that began:

"I hope that in this year to come, you make mistakes." 

If you don't know Neil Gaiman, he's famous for a myriad of things but possibly most recognizable as the author of The Sandman graphic novel series. He also wrote The Wolves in the Walls, an amazing children's book, by the way. If you haven't seen it, check it out. The art is mind-blowing. (Written by Gaiman, illustrated by Dave McKean). But I believe what Gaiman is talking about is what we're all always afraid of, which is change.

Not that sort of change.

Of course, we're afraid of change. Change is the unknown, that mysterious fog which clouds our vision of the future. And people fear the future. Well, what we really fear is the unknown future. We as humans acclimate ourselves to the status quo for a reason -- for consistency, for complacency. With one, comes the other. And with both, we feel we don't have to fear tomorrow, because tomorrow is likely to be just like yesterday. We don't need anyone or anything cutting in to reshuffle the cards or shake  up the snowglobe, so to speak.

But "Change is good," right? I know I've heard that one before, and it's half-right. Change is good sometimes. Change is bad sometimes. But we can't allow ourselves to become afraid of change, because just as fear of change is human nature, change is nature. That is, it's natural. And naturally, we all have within us the capacity to deal with it, to accept it, and to make the best of it.

In fact, maybe we should stop basing our life decisions on unattributable platitudes anyways and just make up our own damn minds.

Now this kind of change is VERY good.

We should want change. Change challenges us, shows us at our best, and shows us at our worst. It invigorates us. But what's important is that change shows us us. We learn so much about ourselves through it. Two years ago I took a trip to Argentina. It was my first real trip out of the country, and for the weeks leading up, I had so many people telling me to be careful of this and to maybe not do that until I had just about worked myself up to not going. And I could have not gone and just maintained the status quo. But thankfully I didn't let anxiety get the better of me and just took the plunge, brushing up on my Spanish during the seventeen-hour plane ride. It was an amazing experience. Not always good, but amazing. And I learned that really, I liked not just traveling overseas, but the whole fish out of water element of it. It gave me the confidence to finally take that trip to Japan later that year, and believe you me, I stuck out like a sore thumb there. But it was and remains the best experience of my life thus far.

So I guess I gained a bit out of the whole venture. And of course, I made mistakes -- in Japan ended up lost in a residential area of Roppongi for half a day, in Argentina I ordered a gigantic T-bone steak when I just wanted chicken -- but I didn't let that stop me, and I learned something new about myself in the process. And isn't that sort of what this whole thing called Life is all about? Learning and growing and changing and re-changing. And just...

...Refusing to stand still.

So now it's 2012. I still have no idea what I want to do with my life, but... I think that's okay. It is okay. It's okay for you too. Right now I'm a writer. Tomorrow I'll start a rock band. Maybe one day I'll be a doctor. Who really knows? ~Tet


"I hope that in this year to come, you make mistakes.


Because if you are making mistakes, then you are making new things, trying new things, learning, living, pushing yourself, changing yourself, changing your world. You’re doing things you’ve never done before, and more importantly, you’re Doing Something.


So that’s my wish for you, and all of us, and my wish for myself. Make New Mistakes. Make glorious, amazing mistakes. Make mistakes nobody’s ever made before. Don’t freeze, don’t stop, don’t worry that it isn’t good enough, or it isn’t perfect, whatever it is: art, or love, or work or family or life.


Whatever it is you’re scared of doing, Do it.


Make your mistakes, next year and forever."

     -Neil Gaiman

Tuesday, January 3

A few words to ring in the new year

I technically wrote this poem about six months ago, but I just came across it again. I kinda dig it, so thought I'd share. ~Tet


of days and lands laid waste

"...of days and lands laid waste"
the girl said, as she bustled to her room
she knew it in her fingertips
rushed it through her eyes, her lips
she was the queen of all she saw
and the king of all she knew
she was the quintessential ta
of the infinitesimal roo

she sat upon her queenly throne
peering down at the universe below
of ruined lands and waste-maid suns
and tugged and traveled lives of men

such a little child, a little girl
she tugged her hair and twirled her gown
but little did she know, little she knew
her whispered moods rushed through the town

and when she smiled she said of you
come to my arms, come to my play
and twirl we all all through the stars
unstabled miles and miles of day

unfurled and open, come what may
and soar we'll through the milky way
and touch the saturned stars

“…of lands laid waste and ruin”
Said the girl with eyes of men
Tattered tresses on her skirts
And blouses washed in washless dirt
She trippled through the universe
And gazed with eyes of men

And there she sat, her tuckled throne
Of muck and sand and wind-wrought stone
It crooked built by man alone
She peered down from her tower

And with her eyes and with her teeth
She tore apart the heavens reef
And plunged her girlish fingers in
And caught a sel-fish by the fin
And whipped it to and whipped it fro
It curled and danced upon the air
Away from lover’s sweet below
Away from home and sweet below
It wept and she watched and wondered now
And dropped his finless back into
The heaven scent of deepest blue

And crawled she back onto her throne
Of muck and sand and fishy bones
Her universe now in demise
With splitted hairs and darkened eyes
She straightened more her tullied dress
And stretched her legs and curled her chest
she sat upon her throne of one
with sadness in her cheeks

she wondered her what to belong
with sadness in her cheek

6.17.11