A version of this post originally appeared on my Listly account in 2016. Is Listly still a thing?
Texas and Norway may seem at odds in many ways. Weather, language, cuisine, are all on opposite ends of the spectrum. But if you do a little digging, you'll find they have more in common than you might think.
The two cultures blend well, once you think about it.
They're both instantly recognizable in their native costumes.
Their blue flowers put on quite a show in the springtime.
Both cultures enjoy an alternative to sliced bread.
Wherever the sun is shining, that's where they'll be.
The more flags, the better.
They both set aside one day of the week specifically for eating tacos.
They do love their caffeine.
An issue pondered by many in both countries: 'How will I spend my oil money?'
If you're on board with the concept of Texwegians, I hope you'll check out my book, The Dala Horse. Available in paperback, e-book, and audio formats from Amazon.
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Greetings and happy holidays to all! Last week, I did a macro analysis of the 1988 movie Scrooged, applying the 5 Commandments to the entire story arc. This time, I'm applying them to a single five minute scene: the Turning Point of the Ending Payoff.
In this scene, the Ebenezer Scrooge character known as Frank Cross is visited by the last of three ghosts who are attempting to show him the error of his selfish ways. One, in the form of an insolent cab driver, has shown him incidents from his own past that have shaped who he is today. A second ghost, an impudent and slightly deranged fairy, showed him situations from his present that he is unaware of, and that are the direct result of his thoughtless actions.
But this third ghost, yikes.
The Ghost of Christmas Future looms menacingly, garbed in a wardrobe from Grim Reapers R Us. Anguished souls are held captive beneath the folds of his flowing black robes. He has some less-than-glad tidings for our boy Frank. First, he shows Frank the fate of Frank's assistant's disabled young son, locked in a padded room presumably because Frank's demands on the boy's mother have reduced the amount of time she is able to spend with him. Frank is strangely silent, but appears taken aback.
Next, the ghost shows him a ladies lunch event that includes his old flame, Claire. In their youth, when they were young and in love, Claire was the soul of kindness and generosity. But in this vision, she has become callous; hardened. Frank is dismayed by the change in her, especially when she quotes Frank to her lunch friends and attributes her change in attitude to some advice he gave her long ago.
As an aside, whoever did Karen Allen's makeup in this scene did an excellent job of communicating 'harsh' with her look, especially as it contrasts with her fresh-faced earnestness in the rest of the film.
As hurtful as Claire's confession seems, it's the final vision that in my opinion is the turning point in this scene. The ghost brings Frank to a room we soon learn is a crematorium. The coffin about to enter the flames has Frank's name on it. Only two mourners are in attendance: Frank's brother James and James' wife. He soon finds himself trapped inside the coffin. As the flames lick at his expensive shoes, Frank has a realization that he doesn't want to die just yet; that he wants time to repent and do right. This realization leads Frank to his Crisis, Climax, and Resolution in fairly short order.
Coming up with a micro analysis for this movie was a challenge for me for a couple of reasons. One was more about logistics. I needed a scene that aligned with the 5 Commandments scenes I had identified in last week's post that was also available in a video snippet so I could post it for you here. As a last resort I would've just described the scene to you, but I like it better if you can have something to watch. Another challenge was more about the process of applying the 5 C's in micro in these scenes. For some reason, I have more trouble with the micro, or beats, I suppose, than with analyzing the big picture - especially when the components pile on to each other relatively quickly, as I feel they do in this scene.
Do you agree about these 5 C's? Is there another scene that illustrates them more clearly in micro? I look forward to your input.
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'Tis the season, so it should come as no surprise that I chose a holiday theme this month. My taste in holiday movies runs a little dark, so don't expect any Hallmark films here. It says a lot about me that last Christmas the hubs and I treated ourselves to a holiday screening of Die Hard at the fabulous Nickelodeon Theater in Columbia, SC. But that one's been done by the Story Grid folks. I've chosen another favorite: Scrooged, the 1988 remake of Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol, starring Bill Murray.
If you don't feel like clicking away to my previous post to see what this Story Grid 5 Commandments stuff is all about, you can get the gist by reading the infographic on the 5 Commandments below.
Gentle reminder there are no right or wrong answers in this process. I encourage you to join the discussion by leaving your opinions in the comments - especially if you disagree! Heck, I even disagree with myself sometimes when I'm poring over this stuff.
To recap the film: since it's one of many remakes of the beloved classic, you are probably familiar with the basics, even if you haven't seen the film. We have the Scrooge character in the form of modern-day television bigwig Frank Cross, played by Murray. We have the ghosts of Christmas past, present, and future. We have the failed relationship of his youth, and the deceased business partner, and the charming Tiny Tim-esque young boy.
Frank Cross is a selfish, competitive jerk fighting tooth and nail to claw his way to the top of the corporate ladder. He has insisted on airing a live production of A Christmas Carol on Christmas Eve, even though this means many will have to work on the holiday to get it done.
During this hectic evening, Cross runs into his boss. Nothing unusual about that, except the boss had recently died of a heart attack. The ghost boss warns Frank the job is not worth sacrificing the chance for meaningful relationships. He also says three more ghosts will visit him that evening. Frank assumes he is hallucinating due to stress about the job and the show, and ignores this bizarre event - until the next ghost shows up.
The classic Christmas Carol plot unfolds. Frank is visited by the Ghost of Christmas Past, who reminds him of a vaguely unhappy childhood; Christmas Present, who gives him insight into the lives of those close to him and how his actions affect them, and about which he has no clue until now; and Christmas Future, who scares the daylights out of him with the possibility of an unhappy end to a life filled with despair.
This final visitation convinces Frank he better get his act together. He does a complete 180 and to cement the deal, confesses his regrets to a viewing audience of thousands during the live production he has insisted occur on this night. No takebacks!
His heartfelt apologies help reunite him with his long lost love; initiate a closer relationship with his estranged brother; and even benefit the Tiny Tim character by inspiring him to speak aloud for the first time.
The cool thing about doing a remake of a classic is that you have a time-tested story structure with which to work. In this case, you even have three ghosts to align with the three act structure. I didn't have much trouble choosing my 5 C scenes this time. But I would love to hear if you have any alternatives, or if you think I've missed something.
Next time we'll do a micro of one of the scenes from Scrooged. In the meantime, if you haven't seen Scrooged, check it out. It's usually on TV somewhere this time of year.
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A version of this post originally appeared in 2015.
As National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) comes to a close, gird your loins for the usual flood of post mortem blog posts (like this one). You will see some of the same points made in many of them (like the ones following shortly). That's not to say they're not legitimate. They are - for first-time NaNo participants. They're dying to tell you how they learned how to crank out a respectable amount of words per day, whether they felt like it or not. I learned not to edit and just write, they'll say. But I think NaNo veterans will agree with me when I say these observations fall under the category of No News Here. Yes, I did learn those things the first time I did NaNo. My writing discipline improved as a result. But I hope like heck I'm not snared in a writer's version of Groundhog Day, limited to learning the same stuff over and over. I like to think I come away with something new each time I participate.
Something else in the No News Here category: I am not great when it comes to planning ahead. This year I had grand intentions of using my Scrivener app to have my new novel all outlined and plotted and charted and ready to go, and all I had to do was fill in the blanks scene by scene. But I fiddle-farted around until it was almost too late, and didn't finish my outline before November 1. This was not the end of the world, especially since I still don't know exactly how the story will wind up. Let's just say it's like motor oil: in a fluid state, very much subject to change.
Okay, so now you know what I didn't learn. Here's what I did learn.
As I mentioned, I became even more comfortable with Scrivener. I learned how to use the Label function for categorizing and the Corkboard for storyboarding. I used the split screen feature extensively, viewing my notes in one screen while composing in the other. I used the Inline Annotation feature to boost word count by letting notes to myself stay within the manuscript, but in such a way that is easy to spot and relocate when the time comes. I learned Scrivener has a Name Generator feature, which is pretty cool. Overall, I am really loving Scrivener. It's around $40, but they run a special during NaNo. I think I saw it was $25. Wish I had known this last year and I would've waited until November to buy it. I paid full price.
I have blogged previously about my Story Forge cards. I used the heck out of them this NaNo. Whenever I got stuck, out came the cards and I did a spread, usually a character backstory, which stimulated some very productive ruminations. The cards are $20 plus shipping, but they were worth every penny this NaNo.
Speaking of which, this year is the first time I really gave much thought to character backstories. Thanks to the marriage of my stream-of-consciousness ramblings with the ideas suggested by the Story Forge spreads, I now have fully-formed backgrounds supporting all of my characters that informs their actions in what I think is a believable way. I feel I know them better. And knowing them better suggests all sorts of interesting plot twists and shadings and nuance that I may not have otherwise.
I don't do NaNo with the expectation of having a near-perfect project by December 1, which I edit and publish by the end of the year (the same year). Instead, I expect to have at least 50,000 words of hot mess that is the massive, shapeless mound of mashed potatoes from which I will sculpt my Devil's Tower (Close Encounters fans will get this. Others, that's what Google is for). I estimate around half of my 50,000+ word hot mess (and yes, I did finish, first time ahead of schedule, note blue badge of courage proudly displayed at upper right) is stream-of-consciousness stuff: me talking to myself about the story; spit-balling; spelling out various scenarios; why they have potential; why this might work but that probably won't; the pros and cons of adding or changing characters; tinkering with the setting; and so forth. Most of this material will be shifted to Notes and Research and other support folders and mercifully will not show up verbatim in my novel. I don't consider this cheating, or filler, and here's why: it's time and word count spent focused on the project and has a direct and productive connection to the finished product. Since this is a YA story, I estimate I am 60-70% finished with the first draft. Not bad for only 30 days' worth of my time.
There is one more observation I have on NaNoWriMo: this is the first time I've participated that I don't feel drained and exhausted and completely turned off by the thought of returning to my project any time soon. I can't explain it. Maybe because I've converted to self-publishing, and I know publication is definitely going to happen. Maybe because Scrivener really makes the mechanics of writing and publishing a breeze. I really don't know why. But I'm really looking forward to seeing it through.
Note: I have no affiliation with any products mentioned here. I just enjoy using them.
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I went 60+ years without breaking a bone. But in one brief moment of inattention, both the streak and my right ankle went to pieces. I was on crutches for a couple of months after surgery and hobbled around in a boot for a few more weeks after that. So I had plenty of time sitting around to contemplate this unexpected turn of events. Plenty. Of. Time. It was definitely a learning experience; to wit:
Don't let that smile fool ya
Crutches aka Death Sticks are the devil's handiwork.
Crutches and bifocals are a match made in hell.
Crutches and stairs? Fugghedaboutit.
When on crutches due to injury, prepare a fun fictional answer for how the injury happened - especially important if the truth is boring, or makes you look like a fool. You will get asked again and again by well-meaning strangers. Skydiving and skateboarding come to mind. Level of risk should be proportional to your age (the higher your age, the higher the purported risk).
Crutches will give you a new and profound appreciation for handicap parking spots, accessibility ramps, and grab bars.
You will also get a newfound appreciation for good quality public facility design. For example: why are some handicap accessible stalls all the way at the end of the row, furthest from the entry?
Oh, and thanks for heavy doors with pull handles on public restrooms - NOT.
However, I must say crutches come in handy for pushing bathroom doors closed.
Had to go with the Cowboys Blue
Your quad in your healthy leg will get a workout. All those squats at the gym finally pay off. Also I think whomever invented yoga was probably on crutches before doing so.
Baby wipes are your friend. Bath tubs/showers are not. 'Nuff said.
Doesn't matter where you stash your crutches. When they start to fall over (and they will), they will fall in such a way to cause maximum havoc.
When well-meaning friends and family offer to help stash your crutches away, they will always be stashed out of your reach.
Well-meaning friends/family will try to 'help' you by holding onto your body or clothing for 'support'. Don't Let Them.
If you're on crutches, chances are pretty good you might also have a cast somewhere. Casts are your friend. Having your injury immobilized while it heals is a good thing.
While we're on the topic of casts: casts are now high tech, fast, non-messy, and come in fun colors like Cowboys blue, Barbie pink, GI Joe camo, unicorn rainbow vomit, etc. - go for it! Life's too short for a plain white cast.
One more about casts, then I promise I'll stop: having the plaster cast sawed off can def get the heart rate up. They swear the saw they use to do this will stop running before it cuts into your flesh . . .
The warning label on the prescription painkillers is more terrifying than your injury.
If your hair is longer than a couple of inches, either get a haircut or wear a ponytail or find a favorite hat. Hair falling into your eyes while you're on crutches is not your friend.
West Texas is no place for crutches unless you gain 20+ pounds for ballast.
Titanium is your friend for sure
Wear clothing with pockets. If no pockets are available, your bra/manssiere is a handy substitute. If you don't have pockets, you can toss a bag with a strap cross body, or tuck items into your waistband like a kangaroo. Do what you gotta do to keep your hands free because crutches. I confess I did use my neck and my teeth to hold stuff a couple of times. This is Not Recommended. One of the nurses recommended I try a backpack, the kind that comes with a belt to secure it around your waist and keep it stable back there. This is a good idea in theory, especially for folks who have to return to work or school while still on crutches. However, in practice, it is a PIA to get to the stuff in the backpack if you are on crutches.
Do not use pockets. Pockets are hazardous. They only really work well for small, light weight items like one tissue or a sticky note. Or if you're an actual kangaroo. If you overload side pockets, it throws off your balance. This is the same balance you have just worked for days if not weeks to get used to on crutches without factoring in the effect of improperly balanced loads in your pockets. And of course there is that tendency to overload the pockets so that you make fewer trips. This is a trap. Full side pockets interfere with the swing of the crutches. Just Say No. Also note the kangaroo pouch idea only works best with very tight fitting garments. Otherwise, with all the swinging and swaying motion of the crutches, the item could easily fall through your 'pouch' and trip you, or break, or both.
Worst chore on crutches so far: maybe not what you might think (bathroom trips). Bathroom trips are pretty heinous, but I'm gonna go ahead and go with making the bed. All that bending/stretching/ tugging is exhausting. Now you might ask, why on earth am I insisting on making the bed when I'm on crutches? I have no good answer. I'm not right in the head.
Stepping on the scales was a pleasant surprise after I got my cast off. Seeing my pitiful little chicken leg after getting the cast off was not. Losing weight is totally not worth losing muscle mass.
If your injury is on your lower leg like mine was (ankle), getting a 'Barbie foot' is a thing and to be avoided if at all possible. A properly fitted cast and professional physical therapy techniques can help you avoid this.
I really don't want to jinx you, but if you are on crutches, you will probably need to learn how to perform a controlled fall. Especially if you have young children, pets, or Legos in your living space.
Startles are bad for balance. Your practical joker neighbor is not your friend.
You might be wondering why there are no photos of me on crutches in this post. That's because I let it be known there was a fate worse than death in store for anyone who took unapproved photos of me during my recuperation. Death Sticks photos were not on the Approved list.
I still have the Death Sticks in the garage. Being on crutches for two months is not something I want to repeat. Ever. I should probably donate them, but I'm afraid as soon as I do, I'll need them again. I got the crutches because I wasn't watching where I was going. I'd like to say I learned my lesson, but I tripped over something yesterday, so, maybe not. I guess they better stay put.
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I am no different from many other bloggers in that you will see a variety of posts from me this month on the topic of the Kennedy assassination. And why not? Dramatic, compelling, mysterious, with significant political and historical ramifications - it pushes all my History Nerd buttons.
I also have a couple of extra buttons on this topic. I am a native Texan. Dallas is my hometown. I grew up in Oak Cliff, not far from many of the key events that unfolded that day.
We were not living in Dallas in 1963. After bouncing around the Milwaukee Braves farm system for a few years (Boise ID, Lawton OK), my dad decided professional baseball was not going to feed a family of four. We moved to Denver, where my maternal grandmother lived, and Dad got a real job. I was five when Kennedy was killed. I remember being highly annoyed that boring grownup news shows were interrupting Captain Kangaroo. Yes, I am embarrassed about that now, but that's my vivid recollection of that day.
Not long after that terrible day, my folks decided to move back to Dallas. Both had grown up there. They met in 7th grade, were high school sweethearts. The title of this post is not a cliche. After reading a great article in Slate magazine (which btw features my cousin Darwin Payne, author and retired SMU history prof), I realized several of that day's events were literally close to my childhood home as well as that of my parents, especially my mom.
This cheesy screen grab of Google Maps brings things into a little more focus. After Oswald left the grassy knoll, he returned to the community of Oak Cliff across the river from downtown Dallas. At the time of the assassination, he was renting a room in a boarding house on Beckley Avenue (purple pin). Beckley Ave. also happens to be the exit off I-30 one would use to get to the house I grew up in (pink pin). Much has changed over the last fifty years, but on my end of Beckley Avenue, it's still the home of Lone Star Donuts and Ripley Shirts.
Oswald's boarding house on Beckley was about a block from Lake Cliff Park. This park was the site of much enjoyable recreation in the 1950s. It had an enormous public swimming pool (long since filled in), which happened to be my mom's first job as a teenager. According to Mom, much adolescent hijinx occurred there. Part of me wants to know more. The other part has adopted a 'don't ask, don't tell' policy.
The Slate article also says Oswald walked a mile or so south on Beckley from the boarding house to near W. H. Adamson High School (aqua pin). This is the first I have heard of an Oswald connection to that school. That's where my folks fell in love. That's where my dad played basketball and baseball and earned a scholarship to Sul Ross State University. That's where they made some lifelong friends who still get together occasionally for some of that classic Tex Mex you just can't get anywhere outside of Texas. I don't know if school was in session that day. It would have been the Friday before Thanksgiving. The thought of an armed assassin strolling along the sidewalk near a school filled with students gives me the chills.
After passing Adamson, Oswald had his fateful encounter with Dallas police officer J,D. Tippitt at about 10th and Patton (green pin). Reading that really rocked my world. My mom grew up on Patton Street (yellow pin). As the eldest of six, she was married and out of the house in 1963, but some of the family still lived in her childhood home then. They lived a few blocks north of 10th Street, close enough to have possibly heard the shot that ended Officer Tippitt's life.
Oswald's last stop in Oak Cliff was an attempted escape through the Jefferson Blvd. retail district. He was captured in the Texas Theater (blue pin). I don't recall ever visiting it in my 20-odd years living in Oak Cliff. For many years after the shooting, it was considered uncouth as a Dallasite to show morbid interest in anything related to that event. The closest I have been to Dealey Plaza is driving home from downtown through the triple underpass. Never, ever, walked the grassy knoll or pointed with finger or camera lens at the sixth floor of the Texas School Book Depository. But as Oak Cliff residents, we certainly passed near or shopped at Jefferson Blvd. on an almost daily basis. It was home to many iconic Oak Cliff businesses, including Red Bryan's, the Charco Broiler, Skillerns Drug Store, and the Lamar & Smith Funeral Home (which I mention because the Smiths were our neighbors).
They say times have changed, that Dallas is no longer primarily known as 'the city that killed the President'. During this time of year when we are asked to pause and reflect on our blessings, that is certainly one of the many things for which I am thankful.
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I recently came into possession of my dear departed grandmother's cedar chest. Grandma (or 'grammaw' as we say in Texas) Veda passed away thirty years ago - wow, how can that be?? - and her cedar chest has been stored in the crawl space under my parents' home ever since. They downsized and asked me if I wanted it. I honestly had no memory of said chest, but it was obvious my folks felt it should stay in the family. No one local in the family wanted it, so I drove a thousand miles one-way to rescue it and bring it home with me.
The chest is nothing special from a decorative sense. It's a classic Lane model in a dark finish. The cedar lining has long since lost the battle with musty. I was told to sand the cedar to revive its scents-o-riffic powers, but this is an olfactory pipe dream. Febreze made a brave attempt, but musty it will remain.
The chest's main purpose in my house now is to serve as an intermediate level between floor and bed to help my aging Lab hop into bed with us every night. And yes, I have it covered to protect its lid from further injury from her doggy toenails.
So the chest in and of itself is nothing special furniture-wise. But it contained an interesting piece of my grandmother's life: one of her old purses; probably the last purse she ever used. Now this was something I could relate to! Like many grandmas before her, Granny Veda was infamous for her large purse. But she was a large woman, near 6 feet tall and flirting with 200 pounds from middle age forward, of sturdy Norwegian stock (a few generations back, but the genes run strong in her line), so she would look funny with a small purse!
It was jarring coming upon this purse, lying abandoned in the chest for so many years. First weird thing was the image of my dad discovering it, walking toward me awkwardly holding it at arm's length as if it were a three-day-old carp. I guess men of a certain generation still avoid being seen in contact with a woman's purse. What - do they really think we are going to think it is theirs? And of course this would mean they are gay. Very silly. Reminds me of the time the hubs and I were at some event and I asked him to watch my purse for me when I went to the restroom. I actually had to lay it at his feet, as he would not deign to touch it in public.
But I digress.
Second weird thing was its actual size. It was just an average size purse, nowhere near the Mary Poppins-size carpet bag I always envision when I think of granny purses. In fact, I have more than one purse that is substantially larger, so I am feeling some purse shame about that. Veda's was a bone colored vinyl handbag, the kind usually seen dangling from the crook of an elbow. Judging from its size compared to its contents, it is possible other contents had already been removed. For example, there was no wallet. Very fishy! Anyway, its remaining contents were every bit as 'Granny Veda' as I remembered and not a bit weird. They were as follows:
plastic sleeve containing several wallet-sized photos of various relatives including one of my dad (her son), one of his brother (also her son), one of my cousin (her other granddaughter), TWO of my brother (her only grandson), and exactly NONE of me 🙁
small cosmetic bag containing pressed powder (Avon 'Honey'), rouge (Westmore 'Jarol') and lipstick (Avon 'Coral'). What the heck is a 'Jarol'????
comb - a long, sturdy plastic number the likes of which are seldom seen now. And btw how many women carry COMBS in their purses anymore??
eyeglasses case including pearl inlay cat-eye eyeglasses - pretty cool!
#3 pencil - not a pen, a PENCIL. Not a #2, a #3. And Granny Veda was a school teacher back in the day, so she knew her pencils!
mini new testament , and I am talking mini - no more than 2 in x 2 in, paperback natch. Despite her Norwegian roots, Veda was raised Baptist. Big Billy Graham fan.
14 silver dollars commemorating the moon landing. Score!
Naturally this got me thinking about all kinds of things, not the least of which was: what do your purse/wallet contents say about you? In my case, not much, and maybe that says something about me after all: that I do not like to be burdened with a lot of stuff. Over the past couple of years I have gone to a very lightweight cross body oversized wallet, just big enough to handle my actual wallet, my cell phone, a pair of glasses if I am too lazy to put in my contacts; some business cards, and some lipstick. That's it. No photos of loved ones (they are on my phone now), no mini bibles (although I do have a sweet handwritten note from Granny Veda tucked into my wallet that provides similar inspiration), and most of my cash is represented by a plastic ATM card. Curious that my daily purse contents are eerily similar to the picked-over remains of Granny's long-abandoned handbag. Am I subconsciously preparing for my own demise? Or just wary of the trap a larger purse represents - its contents gradually expand to fill all existing spaces? Purses, like Nature itself, abhor a void.
Sobering to realize our eyeglasses may outlive us.
If I ever become a granny, I think my electronic gadgets will represent the Granny Purse to my future grandchildren. They will ooh and ahh over the ancient clunky phone model I refused to replace. They will find my music collection impossibly retro. They will wonder why I wasted so much space storing ridiculous mediocre-quality pix in the Photo Gallery. And just about then, they will wonder if they still make a charger for that ph-
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based on the Story Grid series of blog posts, books, and podcasts by Shawn Coyne and Tim Grahl.
Welcome back to my continuation of applying the Story Grid method of story structure analysis to one of my favorite stories: the 1997 sci-fi/action film Men in Black.
Last week's post applied the Story Grid's 5 Commandments to the entire, or global, story of the film. This week, I'm zooming in to the micro level and applying these same principles to a single scene.
The 5 Commandments are a handy tool to guide storytelling and help ensure you're writing a scene/story that works. Here's my introductory post on Story Grid principles. Or, you can get the gist by reading this post and the accompanying infographic.
The scene I've chosen for the micro analysis is also one of the global 5 Commandments scenes from last week's post: the Crisis, wherein the hero is presented with various options and must make a choice that determines the path of the rest of the story. Note that a scene can serve as one of the 5 C's at multiple levels: global, sequence, scene, and even beat.
A video is worth a million words, so check out the scene here:
So great, amirite? Still a classic, after all these years.
Before I get into the analysis, a word about process: previously, I mentioned that when I'm stumped on how to start applying these guideposts to a story, I start with the Climax and work backwards from there. I suggest this because often the Climax is the Wow! moment and is therefore easier to identify. However, in this scene, I think the Turning Point is the Wow! moment. In my former life in the tennis biz, this is where we would say that I'm coachable.
Anyway - here's my breakdown (and I'm stickin' to it - maybe):
And can I just say, there's such a great set-up in this scene to reinforce Will Smith's character's worldview. Will Smith's character, along with a few other guys, has just undergone a series of tests to see if they have "the right stuff", to borrow from another space-themed story, to join the Men in Black. We get the very clear sense that Smith's character, Edwards, is definitely a long shot for passing this test. All the other recruits are in some kind of military uniform. All are taking this process very seriously. Edwards is dressed much more casually and has a few awkward moments before they complete their evaluation and are ushered out. It's clear Edwards has been underwhelmed by the experience so far.
Inciting Incident: In addition to his long shot status, Edwards himself is certain this has been a huge waste of time. He's ready to get back to catching criminals in his real job at the NYPD. But as he's leaving with the others, Agent K intercepts him. They converse briefly. Edwards makes it clear he thinks they're all nuts, and he's not interested.
Turning Point/Progressive Complication: Agent K takes the news with equanimity and asks Edwards if he'd like any coffee. Edwards refuses, but waits patiently as K stops into the break room. Edwards overhears a casual conversation between K and whoever else is in the break room. He's a few steps behind K, so as he catches up so that he now has a clear view into the break room, what he sees there completely rocks his world. The conversation is occurring not between humans, as any reasonable person would assume, but between Agent K and a handful of worm-like creatures helping themselves to the coffee. These creatures are the furthest from anything remotely human-looking. There is no question they are alien in every sense of the term. And just like that, Edwards realizes everything Agent K has told him is likely 100% true, and everything Edwards used to know about life as a human being on planet Earth has just been completely upended.
Crisis: I've seen this movie dozens of times, but I still get a kick out of the look on Will Smith's face when he's trying to process just exactly what he's seeing with his own eyes. His Crisis: do I believe what I'm seeing, therefore validating everything Agent K has said and up until five seconds ago I thought was complete horse manure, or try to rationalize this as some kind of hallucination or elaborate parlor trick or con, and retain some semblance of my sanity?
Climax: We don't see Edwards make his decision until a few moments later, in a different setting. Spoiler alert: he joints the MiB and becomes Agent J.
Resolution: Agent J has a steep learning curve during his first day as an Man in Black. But he makes that suit look goooood.
Remember, my opinion is only that. You may have a completely different viewpoint on some of these. For example, one might argue the Progressive Complication is from Agent K's perspective, when he realizes Edwards is leaning away from joining their merry band, and decides he needs to do something to convince a valuable prospect to join the MiB.
I'd love to hear your thoughts on where the 5C's of this scene are - especially if you disagree with me!
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Recently I blogged about the Story Grid method of analyzing and understanding story structure. I plan on applying this method to some of my favorite books and films and posting them here about once a month. I'll do a macro first, and follow up by applying the same method to a single scene. My kids reminded me how much we all enjoy the original 1997 film Men In Black, so that's what I'm choosing to analyze this time.
If you don't feel like clicking away to my previous post to see what this is all about, you can get the gist by reading the infographic on the 5 Commandments below.
Gentle reminder there are no right or wrong answers in this process. I encourage you to join the discussion by leaving your opinions in the comments - especially if you disagree! Heck, I even disagree with myself sometimes when I'm poring over this stuff.
To recap the film: In pursuit of a rather unusual perpetrator, a New York City policemen discovers a secret world of law enforcement exists to protect Earth from extraterrestrial threats. Initially, Officer Edwards is skeptical. But when the secret group, known as the Men In Black, convince him that aliens are real, he decides saving the world is more important than anything he's got going on in his daily life. He and his mentor, Agent K, embark on a mission to track down the current alien threat and prevent the destruction of the planet.
The scenes I have settled on above were not my first choices. I usually like to identify the climax scene and work backwards from there. One might argue I sorta cheated with the very nebulous and general description of what I consider the climax of the film. My description basically includes every scene from the end of the beginning hook to the end of the film.
It was tempting to choose the literal climax scene of the film when Agents K and J defeat the hideous giant alien cockroach. And reverse-engineering the other three commandment scenes preceding the climax, one could also argue they happen later in the film, after Officer Edwards opts into the MiB. So for example the Inciting Incident might be when the alien crash-lands at the Maine farm; and the Turning Point/Complication could be when the MiB discover the cockroach alien has killed an important member of another alien species that could spark an intergalactic war.
But when I decided the Inciting Incident was when Officer Edwards runs down the alien perp, the other scenes were less dependent on the external story and moreso on his internal arc. That's my opinion, and I'm stickin' to it.
Oh, and if you haven't seen Men in Black, I strongly encourage you to check it out. It's filled with many storytelling gems ripe for ripping off/learning from. I'll discuss that more next time when I dissect a single scene for this exercise.
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Such dreary news lately, what with all the usual global warming and depressed economies and fighting and bombing and killing. The capper sent icy fingers clutching my heart:
There is a Velveeta shortage.
For you gourmands and food snobs out there, Velveeta is a cheese (like) product made by Kraft. Imagine a larger, softer, oranger stick of butter sold in the regular aisles (not dairy) of your local grocery. It is a popular ingredient in macaroni and cheese and cheese dips because it melts and blends so well. Apparently Kraft transitioned Velveeta-making to a new production facility recently, causing some production delays.
Sweet Mother of Pearl.
I understand this is mostly an East Coast problem. I will be checking my local grocer today, guaranteed. I haven't bought any Velveeta in ages, but just the thought of a shortage makes me want to dash to the store and arm-wrestle a grandma for the last box.
I haven't bought Velveeta in a while because let's just say it rarely makes any of those listicles featuring the healthy foods you should be eating. I was surprised to discover it actually does have some real cheese in it (cheddar, Monterrey Jack, and Swiss). Kraft has been making Velveeta for ages, but it really took off when they started promoting its use in mac n cheese. If you have ever made homemade mac n cheese, you know why. Making it with real cheese is problematic. Getting actual, real shredded cheddar cheese to melt and mix properly with the milk can be tricky, especially if you are a 'panster' like I am in the kitchen. I rarely have all the ingredients I need for any given dish and try to wing it. Last time I did this with mac n cheese, the cheese just wouldn't blend properly. My mac n cheese tasted okay, but looked more like mac n brain splatter. Yum!
I do have fond memories of Velveeta from childhood. My mom is the oldest of six. When I was a kid we had many family gatherings. Most featured my Aunt Billie's infamous cheese dip. It had two simple ingredients: Rotel tomatoes and Velveeta. She had a big brass fondue pot, the kind that requires a can of Sterno underneath to keep the contents warm. Cultivating a taste for that cheese dip was a sign of maturity. It may be my imagination (or my petrified middle-aged taste buds), but I swear the Rotel was hotter back then. A little of that cheesy goodness dipped with a tortilla chip could burn all the way down from tongue to tummy. If you could handle the heat, you were on your way to becoming an adult.
I love it, but I just can't eat Velveeta on a regular basis. They say it has real cheese in it, but when you open up that cardboard container and pry apart the foil liner to reveal what they lovingly call the 'loaf', 'real cheese' is not a phrase that comes to mind. I fear if I go back to the V, I will feel some pressure to consume even more unnaturally orange foods. What's next - a big plastic barrel of cheese balls in the pantry? Completely giving up and just standing over the sink squirting a can of Cheese Wiz into my mouth? Troubling as it is, maybe this shortage is for the best.
Note: I did come up with the title on my own; validated when I discovered NPR had the same idea. Two minds, but with a single thought!
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