Shows like “Cheers” and “Family Ties” were staples in my home. I grew up with their characters. I formed opinions based on their messages. I learned humor from their punch lines (which, I’m afraid, is still painfully obvious). Now, thanks to Netflix and channels like the Hub, it feels great to relive my early years with Alex P. Keaton, Norm, and that dumb airplane mechanic from Wings.
Recently, Netflix added yet another historic title to its list of instantly viewable titles, the 1998 series Sports Night. I should point out here that for this show the word “historic” means mid 20′s for me. Although I knew nothing about sports, I loved this show. It’s pacing and its humor were very different than anything else. It was way ahead of its time. And I have to admit, I kind of had a thing for Felicity Huffman. But that’s another post for another time . . . or not.
Sadly, the show ended when its writer Aaron Sorkin decided to concentrate on some other show that would probably never be a hit. What was it? Oh, that’s right, “The West Wing”. Cable tried to pick up “Sports Night,” but all the deals included Sorkin as a writer, which he declined.
But now, thanks to those really nice people at Netflix (who are still promising to bring me instant Mad Men in July), I can now watch all the “Sports Night” I want. And I will, thank you very much.
read more
The folks at fictionwriting.about.com continue to issue their monthly writing challenges. In November, the challenge was to pick one of our favorite classics, observe the initial setting, then reset the scene. The trick was to consider a drastically different setting and see how it changed our characters. My submission with short preface is below . . .
In chapter one of Huckleberry Finn, Twain paints his setting less through description and more through inner dialogue and conflict. But what we principally understand is that Huck’s current setting is NOT where he wants to be. We learn that he and Tom are two suddenly-rich kids rebelling against a life they did not want. We are given one brief section where Huck describes the scene outside his window, a setting he truly desires. As he ventures out into this setting (in response to Tom’s call) he experiences a very bad omen and worries what will happen next.
I tried out a very different setting, making necessary adjustments for certain characters and events. But I also tried to mirror the chapter as closely as possible.
Adjusting
The name is Huckleberry. And unless you process parking tickets for the Department of Motor Vehicles, you’ve probably never heard of me. You may know my friend, Tom, especially if you’re female. But you’re more likely to have seen our commercials. You know the ones for Clemens Jewelers? “Gold. Make her heart bling!” Yep. That was our line. It was the single largest campaign in Thatcher Advertising’s history. Tom and I signed it, shaped it, and turned it into a household phenomenon. It’s what we do. We’re the best, and I don’t lie about things like that. Well, mostly I don’t. I AM in advertising.
We banked some serious cash on the Clemens account. Back in the day, we would have celebrated by renting a yacht, heading south, and blowing the whole thing on margaritas, senoritas, and any other kind of “itas” that looked like fun. But those days are history since we both decided to act like adults (for once) and put a little bling on the ring fingers of two special ladies. Now, we spend each day staring into our deep fried lunches, counting the days until our lives will change forever, and trying to remember exactly what we were thinking.
Not that I’m unhappy. It’s just a matter of . . . adjusting. I fell in love with Wendy Douglas the first time I saw her. Well, it was actually the second time. I was drunk the first time, and I don’t remember much about that. But since that second time, I was smitten. Within months, she had a ring, and I had a future. And that’s when the problems started. Apparently, beer is not only habit forming – shock – but also full of carbohydrates. And who wants a fat husband? This explains why all of my favorite fried foods are also now contraband. Cigarettes are disgusting carcinogens that I’m no longer allowed to have – even in my own apartment. And today I find out she’s plotting to buy a minivan which she no doubt hopes to drive to a quaint little suburban prison cell with brick on all four sides. This is of course where she’ll serve me and our two point five children wheat-grass and acai berries every night for dinner. Like I said, I’m adjusting.
And to make matters worse, she has this sister. What a mistake her parents made when they conceived that human being. The woman hates me. And the feeling is mutual.
Thank God I have the city. It’s the one place I still understand. The smell of hot dog stands, the symphony of noisy cars, the pulse of millions of people pounding the pavement, it’s like a drug. When Wendy and her Sister from the Crypt start digging my grave, this is where I find peace.
I swivel around in the chair and grab my trusty Nurf basketball. Seven years I’ve been in this office. Seven years I’ve been getting nothing but net from the tiny hoop behind my door. Just when I think maybe I’m losing it, maybe the edge is getting dull, I put up two points and smile, because I know that everything’s gonna be alright.
Today, I could use some reassurance. So I aim, I shoot, I . . . miss? Are you kidding me? The ball rebounds off the door and rolls over to my feet. But I barely notice. I just stare at a net I didn’t even reach. This is bad, really bad. I never miss. I know some people don’t believe in omens and superstition. But this can’t be good. I’m less than thirty days away from the rest of my life as Ward Clever and I MISS? I light a cigarette and sit still like death, contemplating the potential for catastrophe.
“Mr. Finn?” The intercom beckons. “Mr. Sawyer is here to see you.” I don’t answer. “Mr. Finn?” Finally, the voice brings me back to Earth.
“Oh, hey Becky. Yeah, sure. Send him in.”
The door swings open, concealing the empty hoop behind it. But I still stare at it. Tom looks at me, then to the door, then back at me.
“Dude, you look like you just saw a ghost.” Tom closes the door behind him. The hoop returns. “Hey, snap out of it. We’ve got just a few weeks left to live the rest of our lives. So check it out.” Tom drops a stack of paper on my desk. “I’ve been doing a little research online. Man, have I got a plan for you.”
read more
A really short story, actually more of a soliloquy, this is just a brief look at the silly justifications each of us make about our fears and shortcomings. How often do we pick that one thing about ourselves that we hate and pin all our failures on it? We say, “If I could just change this one thing, everything else would be different.”
Well, meet Purvis, the guy who’s name says it all.
What’s In A Name
This place is pretty well packed tonight. The lights are low, and the music is loud, which is good. Loud music means less talking. Talking is bad, because it requires introductions. And introductions mean I have to say it. “Hi, my name is Purvis.”
Yep, Purvis. I know what you’re thinking. “What kind of name is that?” I know, right? The first thing people use to size you up, the way they remember you, the key to the very door into your soul, and my parents choose Purvis. Really?
I guess I could understand it if I were named for some legendary ancestor like a General Purvis Augustus, leader of Allied Forces on some beach in Normandy. Or maybe a Reverend Purvis Leonidas, fearless missionary taking God to naked natives up and down the Amazon. But alas, there are no such heroes in my family tree.
I used to wonder if maybe I was named for that FBI guy who nabbed Dillinger. Turns out Purvis was actually the name of the gardener who worked for my grandmother. He sculpted topiaries of Bible characters. Apparently, his juniper Jesus was so lifelike that people would come from miles around to pray to it. And here I am, a testament to his horticultural moxy.
Hey, there’s that group of girls from HR down the hall. They already know my name, I think. I could just skip the whole introduction part. Oh wait. There’s those guys from Sales. OK, never mind. I’ll let them have a chance. They probably all have really cool names anyway. Some of them probably even have great nicknames too. I always envied guys with great nicknames. My friend Nathan Canasta played football. His number was 50. So “Five Oh” became his name for the rest of high school. Richard Barefoot was Native American, the only Native American we knew. So we called him “Chief.”
So why couldn’t I get one of those names? I was cool. Right? I knew things. I did stuff. But nothing ever stuck. I used to write names on my notebooks to try them out. I wrote “Big Show” and then “Full House,” but I’m just over five feet tall and 120 pounds with my Sunday shoes on. I also considered “Lefty” and “John Deere,” but I’m right handed, and I’ve never actually seen a tractor in real life. In the end, I’m just a tragically vanilla, homogeneous human being with absolutely no distinguishing characteristics save one . . . the name “Purvis.”
Look who just sat down at the other end of the bar. That’s the girl I saw last week, the one with the curly hair. I can’t tell in here, but I think she might be hot. Then again, it’s really dark. I might chance it and walk over. But what would I say?
“Excuse me, would you like some nuts?” No, that won’t work.
“From over there you looked pretty, so I just wanted to come over and make sure you weren’t really ugly close up.” No, better let that one go too.
If I only had a name like Fred or Ralph or something. Then I could just say “Hi, I’m Fred or Ralph or something.”
I guess I could use my middle name, Arthur. Or maybe just Art. But then again, art is what you hang on a wall or make in preschool with macaroni and Elmer’s Glue. And I certainly can’t shorten my first name. “Purv.” Nope, I don’t think so. One time I considered combining a short version of my first and middle names. But then I thought it through. “Purv Art.” Are you kidding me? Mom, Dad, how much do you hate me?
“What’ll it be tonight, kid?” That’s the bartender. I think his name is Stan, or maybe Dan.
“O’Dules.”
“Right.”
Dan’s a nice guy. He works a lot. Always here when I come in.
“Hey Dan, you got a nickname?”
“Yeah. It’s Stan.”
“Oh, right. Sorry.”
Hey, when did Jackson come in? “Hey! Jackson, my man! What’s up? Huh? Oh, yeah. Sure. Well, I’ll just be over here. Keep it real, man.”
Jackson runs the sandwich cart on the corner by the office. Now Jackson, that’s a real name. Like “action,” only Jackson. That guy’s gonna go places with a name like that.
But not me. I’m just gonna sit here at this bar and watch all these well-named individuals go about their happy lives while I waste away in the intoxicating wash of Near Beer. Just me, the Purv-meister. The Purvinator. Potent. Powerful. Purvilicious.
I’ve got to get a new name.
read more
The saga of Lisbeth Salander continues in the second volume of the Millennium Trilogy, The Girl Who Played With Fire. Once again, I enlisted the services of Audible and listened to the 20+ hours of the unabridged audio book before watching the Swedish version of the cinematic sequel to The Girl With the Dragon Tatoo.
If you frequently listen to audio books, you no doubt appreciate how critical the narrator can be to your experience. Reference Jim Dale, the actor who so brilliantly narrated the Peter and the Starcatchers series for Ridley Pearson and Dave Barry. This guy was amazing. He had (for me) as much to do with my enjoyment of these books (all 4 of them) as did the authors.
The same could be said for Simon Vance, narrator of The Girl Who Played with Fire. I strongly urge you to listen to these novels, even if you prefer a quiet sitting with the written word. His ability to capture the essence of each character and seamlessly weave back and forth across gender, education, age, dialect, and even speech impediment is truly entertaining.
And then there’s the book itself. I have NO idea why I’ve been sucked into this series like I have. Aside from my comments regarding the first book, I honestly have no real investment in the subject matter, the author, or the works themselves. At least, I didn’t when I began. But now, I’m hooked. I will be with this neurotic, misanthropic heroine until the bitter end of book three, which sadly is the end given the author’s untimely demise.
So what is it about this character, Lisbeth Salandar, that I find so intriguing? Good question. To tell you the truth, I’m still not sure. She’s tenacious. She has a photographic memory, and she’s a brilliant computer hacker. I like all that. I once took a strengths assessment that labelled me a “maximizer,” which basically means I look for and am attracted to the strengths in others. Maybe that’s why I like this girl.
On the flip side, she’s rude, self-serving, dresses like a vampire, and is completely anti-social. She shuns those who love her, lives strictly within her own rules of social justice, and administers this justice without regard to law or any one else’s opinion. This justice is also often very violent.
But if you believe that we are not accountable for our faults when they’re the result of some injustice committed against us, then she is as blameless as anyone. She has been betrayed, abused, violated, abandoned, deceived, forgotten, dismissed, and insulted. And this was all before the age of 13. It gets worse from there.
So perhaps I’m rooting for the underdog. Perhaps I’m waiting for this misfit of society to turn her circumstances around and live a “normal” life, whatever that means for her. Or perhaps I’m hoping that she will prove for me that there is justice in an unjust world, even if that world is fictional.
Either way, you go, Lisbeth! Just do whatever it is you’re gonna do, ’cause after a third 20+ hour novel, I should probably return to reality and actually do stuff.
read more
I doubt anyone has ever done this, but I’m pretty sure you could draw a line from geek to nerd to freak as a continuum of increasing intelligence and decreasing social aptitude. Me? I’m good with people.
And so it is my interest in – not my understanding of – most things tech that keeps me in the geek column. This is why I listened when Leo Laporte of This Week in Tech recommended the Millennium Trilogy by Steig Larsson as a great read for geeks who like a good story. He also bragged on the incredible narration of Simon Vance in the audiobook release. Well, twist my arm.
So when my monthly Audible credit rolled around, I dove into the world of the Swedish underground with book one, The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo. At the same time, I discovered the Swedish film adaptation available on Netflix for instant viewing. Normally I would read the book first, then catch the movie. In this case, I’m glad I broke protocol.
The movie was excellent. The casting was spot on in my opinion having now completed the novel. The story was followed with fidelity on everything critical to the plot. There were a few variations, but that kept it interesting for me.
The plot and sub plots get a little complicated only because they take a long time to develop as one story. The movie condenses this of course. So having seen the movie helped me keep it all straight. (Remember, I’m good with people.)
Story aside, the book was interesting for a number of reasons. I’m one of those dumb Americans who thinks the whole world is just like me. So it was intriguing to watch the Swedish (perhaps simply European) way of life become a character. Dialogue (even post-translation) as well as attitudes about social structure, sex, and professional ethics, all had a distinctly different flavor than a book by Patterson, Turrow, or Clancey.
Also interesting to me was the picture of Stockholm with this seedy underbelly of corruption and crime. Not once did anyone yodel from a mountaintop. No one even yelled “ricola!”
But I can see why these novels are so popular. I’m interested to see what happens to the American film adaptation, rumored for a 2012 release. Early indications peg Natalie Portman for the lead, with the typical leading guys on the short list too (Pitt, Clooney, yada, yada).
Next up for me is The Girl Who Played With Fire. Can’t wait.
NB: These books center on characters with pretty liberal morals. Scenes are graphic and situations can be uncomfortable. Just saying, don’t buy it for your 12 year old daughter.
read more
Honestly, I’ve never been much of a reader. I’m more of a start, get distracted, lose interest kind of guy. But I did just finish reading my first complete eBook. (No, it wasn’t Winnie the Pooh.) And I’m not alone. Amazon now tells us that they’re selling more eBooks than regular books. Author’s Guild President, Scott Turow (Presumed Innocent, Burden of Proof, et al), is worried what eBooks will do to piracy and writers’ royalties, and eBook makers are slashing their prices left and right. So what’s the big deal about eReading? Seems like yet another bleeding edge novelty that frankly isn’t all that new anyway.
So, I gave it a shot . . . a really good shot. I read an entire novel, cover to cover (so to speak). More about the actual book later. But more relevant to this post are the observations I took from this experience. As I read this novel on an iPhone 4 using the iBooks app, I noted the following.
First, the good.
1. Portability.
I’m frequently finding myself with 5-10 minutes to kill during the day as I wait on something or someone. I call it “gap time.” I have a routine to deal with such productivity synapses. Email, Drudge, blogs. But sometimes I prefer to fill my gap time with something a little less heavy, like knocking out a quick chapter of the latest Michael Crichton novel.
Carrying around one or two thick books on the off change you might catch a few pages seems a bit cumbersome. So whether you’re using a iPhone, iPad, Kindle, Nook, or any of the many other eBook readers on the market, there is something to be said for having your library in your pocket. Just launch the app and you’re instantly right where you left off. Viola! Five care-free minutes in some far away fictional world before being wrestled back to the land of the living. And at a footprint of 2-3 MB per book, your pocket-sized bookshelf could be roughly the size of a small municipal library.
2. Environment.
Let’s face it. Size matters, especially when it comes to text on a page. Use an eBook and control not only the size, but also the font. (Even margins and text color are fair game on some eReaders like Stanza for the iPhone). Do you prefer stark white pages or that old crinkly paper look? No worries. Got you covered there too.
Prefer reading in a dark room by a dim light? Maybe you’re sitting in a doctor’s office being hammered by harsh fluorescents. Adjust the brightness, and you’re good to go. Lastly (although I could go on), pop in your headphones, fire up the Ambient music channel on Pandora, and you’ve got music to read by. I won’t mention how nice it is to “turn the pages” on the beautifully designed iBooks app. But we could talk about that too.
3. Connectivity and Mark Up
I’m not sure why an author would insist on using a word like “verisimilitude,” but let’s say he did. And let’s say you, like me, had no idea what that word meant. Simply touch the word, read the definition, then continue with your book. “Oh, so that’s what the author is saying.”
Or maybe the author sparks a question for you, one that you’re certain the Internet could easily answer. Again, touch the word, tap “search,” and just as easily head back to your book. Now you’ve gone from reading to actually researching. And you haven’t even put down your device.
Thanks to Mortimer J. Adler, I’ve gotten quite used to marking up my books as a form of reading. So I was a little reluctant to adopt eReading, which seems in large part to limit my ability to employ this new habit. That’s why I limit my eReading largely to fiction and periodicals. But even then I’m not without means to annotate. I can add highlights (in a variety of colors) and annotate those highlights as well. As of the writing of this post, iBooks doesn’t allow for export of these notes, but I’m hopeful this will be a part of some future update.
4. Instant Gratification
Ah, my favorite vice. I want it, and I want it now. Hear or read about a new book you want to check out? Fire up iBooks, touch “Store” and download the first chapter . . . for free! It’s like having Barnes and Noble with you all the time – second only to having Bartles and James with you all the time, assuming you’re so inclined. (Oh, wait! Barnes and Noble has an app too!) I have now purchased two eBooks after downloading the first chapter. Others I simply delete from the library then move on.
Now, the not so good.
1. Screen Vs. Paper
Studies seem to indicate that we read faster on paper than on the screen. Despite all the gadgets, systems, and technology designed to minimize our 
dependence on paper, we keep coming back to it. We can hold it, touch it, smell it, display it on a shelf. It makes us happy. And I’m not giving it up anytime soon.
2. Size
Again with the size thing. But can I just say that I really wish I had an iPad? I just can’t pretend that reading an entire novel on a 4.5 x 2.31″ iPhone screen wasn’t at times fatiguing. My hands suffered a little more than my eyes. But it wasn’t as bad as I imagined. I got used to it. On several occasions near the end of the novel, I sat for 30 minutes or more reading with no real taxation on my eyes, neck, or hands. Even still, I must say that a larger screen would have made the experiment more bliss and less bother.
3. Bookshelf Envy
Just because the whole world is on Facebook doesn’t mean we’re not still primarily brick and mortar consumers. We tend to feel the need for some physical representation of the money we spend and the knowledge we gain. If I buy a book and read it, I want to hold it. I want to see it. Shoot, I want YOU to see it. In that light, eBooks seem so ethereal, so distant, so . . . e.
Luckily we have websites like Shelfari, which I use to not only remind myself of books I’ve read, but to serve as a launching pad for discussion or recommendation.
Not Just For Books
Magazines
I also recently downloaded a handful of PDF magazines to my iPhone. I’m thoroughly impressed with how well iBooks handles these large, highly graphic files. Zooming in on a page is as easy as double-tapping. Unlike other PDF viewer apps for the iPhone, iBooks zooms directly to the area you choose, not to the center leaving you to move the page around to find your spot.
I also tried Zinio, an app designed to allow you to purchase and read magazines. I was a little disappointed by the limited selection of titles, although I understand the selection is greater on an iPad. And after using iBooks to read PDF magazines, I have to admit that I’d much rather see iTunes begin selling these through the iBooks store. No word on this yet. But some “unrelated” news stories are making me go hmmmm.
RSS Feeds
I’m also a big fan of RSS. I love that I can grab the latest posts from any blog and most major websites, organize them, and read them right on my phone, or anytime I’m on the web. I currently subscribe to over 30 feeds ranging from College Football sites, to iPhone news, to my friends’ blogs. It’s a great way to custom-tailor my daily intake of news and information and keep it synced wherever I am. I can also easily share what I read with Twitter, Facebook, and email. Or I can use a great service like ReadItLater or InstaPaper to save it offline and spend more time with it later. For the record, I use MobileRSS to handle RSS feeds on my iPhone, although there are other other good options like Reeder. On the web, it’s Google Reader all the way.
In Conclusion
When I began this process of evaluation, I was excited the way we get excited by anything new. But now, on the other side, I’m excited because this works. It really works. I’m reading more, I’m learning more, and it doesn’t feel like a burden. I truly believe there is a future for me and eReading. The good news is that most analysts seem to agree. Let’s hope this continues leading to cheaper (and better) devices, greater title availability, and new technology that makes it a little easier to walk away from those tired old tomes of the past.
Are you reading eBooks? If so, what are your thoughts? Obviously I didn’t cover every app or every device. So if you have a favorite, share that too.
read more
Sadly, the show ended when its writer Aaron Sorkin decided to concentrate on some other show that would probably never be a hit. What was it? Oh, that’s right, “The West Wing”. Cable tried to pick up “Sports Night,” but all the deals included Sorkin as a writer, which he declined.