It's All In An Ending

"Everything. Everyone. Everywhere. Ends."

-Six Feet Under

As I near closer to the end of my story, I can't help but feel the pressure. You know, THAT one. Tying it all together. Trying to leave the reader with a sense of happiness. I mean, they spent all that time with your words, don't you want them to be more than just a little bit glad that they've done as much? Out of everything in a story, the ending is what's carried with the reader or audience after all is said and done. At least that's how it is for me.

Whenever I feel pressured, I look to the masters. Artists who've ended their projects with style and aplomb to spare. What follows are examples of some of my favorite endings in various mediums (spoilers beware):

*The "Six Feet Under" Series Finale -- TV series can't be an easy thing to end, given the immense history and fan base they build, but this show did it right. Sweeping and elegant, the viewers can't help but feel a sense of elation and wonderment, which is miraculous considering it is a show about death.

*The Graveyard Book, by Neil Gaiman -- "Graceful" is a word that comes to mind when reading the final chapter of this celebrated novel. I'm a huge fan of this author already, but still I was floored at how well-written the ending to this story was. He really is a talent to be treasured.

*"The Shield" Series Finale -- I really didn't think the creators of the show would be able to pull it off. Each year, audiences clamored and gossiped (at least me and the people I watched it with did) with theories on what type of fate was in store for should-we-root-for-him-or-not badass Vic Mackey. Well, the creators were successful in crafting an appropriate ending. And trust me, you'll never in a million years predict what actually happens to Vic.

*"Space-Time For Springers" by Fritz Leiber -- One of my favorite short stories of all time. Google it sometime if you've never read it, it's marvelous. The sacrifice at the end is so poignant it's palpable.

* The "Cowboy Bebop" Series Finale -- If you haven't watched the entirety of this series, shame on you. Yes, it's an anime. Don't judge. Just watch it. The ending (and ending song) are brilliant.

And finally... my favorite ending:

*Survive Style 5+ -- Best. Ending. Ever. Best use of a Cake song too, I might add. Yes, it's a weird ending, but then again the entire movie is strange. It's also absolutely perfect. If you can watch it without smiling, I will be amazed. The fact that it hasn't been released on R1 DVD or blue ray is a crime. Also more pressing... when are director Gen Sekiguchi and screenwriter Taku Tada going to collaborate on another film?

My living space is now complete with a writing... erm, nook?

It's just as the title indicates: I now have a place to write in my apartment after so many years! What I'd been working on previously consisted of a metal folding chair, and my laptop resting upon a TV dinner tray stand. That's it. There wasn't room for much more in my old living space, which was about the size of a can of peas. Nevertheless, I managed a lot of writing on that set-up, so I can't knock it too badly.

My new apartment has some wiggle room, though, and that metal chair and low tray were infuriating some old back injuries. When my mom was in town for a few days, she helped me pick out some new furniture (she's much much better at that stuff than me, and actually has... what's it called? Oh yeah, good taste), and I am forever grateful. It's amazing how much difference comfort makes to my work output.

The new desk was a breeze to set up, which is saying something because I'm the least mechanically inclined person you've never heard of. I ordered it cheaply online, and thankfully all the bolts and screws I needed were included with the packaging. If they weren't, I could just picture myself at the hardware store: "Umm... I'm looking for a bolt, uh, thing. It looks kinda like, well, I don't even know how to describe it, but can I have one?"

So anyway, do you have any idea what this means??? I do. It means that I can now write from my apartment, sans back pain, whenever I'm home. Usually I would have to find a computer lab or office space to write from, but most of my ideas come late at night. Disregarding the usual distractions of writing at my living space, I'm extremely pleased with this development.

Granted, I like doing some writing outside of my apartment, which I've mentioned previously, but whenever I look over and see that desk there, it looks... inviting. Like it's daring me to finish what I'm working on.

And that's a dare I'll definitely take.

Yargh!

Missed my Christmas deadline, which I half expected. I figured if I set a crazy deadline, it would urge me to write faster, even if I didn't make the cut. The plan actually worked, since I figure I only have about 1/3rd of the novel left to write. I'm still frustrated with myself but not entirely upset.

Wrote some short stories, too. Did my very first story involving a superhero, which was a lot of fun (I always thought it would be wild to work on a comic one day). I also wrote a short horror bit, and then a few pages involving a break-up between two people. I have no idea what I'm going to do with all these short stories. I'm trying to figure out how to make some money off them if possible. Not the reason why I write, but it would still be nice to get some cash out of the deal, eh?

---

During a meeting with "The Artist" -- who is doing the cover art for Magic In Dogtown -- she offered to make me a personalized soup mug. I forget exactly how this was brought up, but our conversations are usually bizarre like that anyway, so it's no surprise. I was just recently told, however, that the mug has been completed! I have no idea what it looks like or how it's painted. When I brought it up to her, she just laughed mysteriously. Knowing her, that could mean anything. I wouldn't be surprised if I were presented with my gruesome demise depicted across the exterior each time I used it for a meal. If it does, I will find a way to make sure it's on permanent display in my apartment somehow.

It would be external motivation, for sure.

My 2009 List

Happy New Year everyone. I'm sure you've been seeing a lot of "best of" and "worst of" lists for the year just passed. In most cases I would follow suit and list my favorite books and movies I've seen from this year.

Who wants more of that, though?

Instead, I thought I would take the time to reveal my admiration for a cool art form: the movie trailer.

Yes, film trailers are works of art. Done right, they can build excitement for an upcoming film, give audiences a taste of what to expect... yet not reveal crucial parts of the movie. The last bit is where most trailers fail. Don't you hate it when you feel like you've seen the entire movie after watching a preview? I certainly do.

So, to show my appreciation for the talented artists who put together these mini gems, I'm posting some of my favorite trailers from 2009. They excite. They rock. But most importantly, they DON'T GIVE AWAY THE WHOLE DAMN MOVIE.

The Third Terminator Salvation Trailer: Say what you want about the movie, but you have to admit the trailer is simply fantastic. I practically grew up on Terminator 2, and wasn't necessarily excited about a movie in the franchise that didn't involve Cameron or Schwarzenneger. This trailer changed that.

Where The Wild Things Are: It certainly is beautiful to watch. Some people told me watching it made them cry (yes, really). Others told me that they actually liked it better than the movie. Whichever way you put it, you really can't deny how marvelous this preview really is.

Inception: With a movie cloaked in so much secrecy (seriously, does anyone even know any general details about the plot?), how can an effective trailer be made without giving away, well, anything? This trailer managed it somehow. Looks awesome.

Up In The Air: People started talking Oscar potential even before the movie was released. Some would say buzz from festivals and pre-screenings are to blame. I suspect, though, that this graceful trailer might've had something to do with it as well.

... And, for my favorite movie trailer of 2009:

Babies: Try to watch this preview without smiling. Bet ya can't.

Interesting...

I've mentioned before how adaptations fascinate me. I just read this blog entry today that offered some insight into the book-to-screen adaptation of Up In The Air. I haven't had the chance to see the movie yet, but the blog entry implies that the screenwriters explored the world the novel set up, rather than transcribe the story beat for beat. That kind of adaptation is more interesting to me, because if I wanted to know the exact plot of the book... I'd just read it. Instead, I'd rather observe how the story can transform through the collaborative process of film making. Judging from the early Oscar buzz I've been hearing for the movie the past few months, it sounds like it paid off in this case.

Does anyone know how much of a part author Walter Kirn, who wrote the novel the film is based on, had in the adaptation?

In Vain

This post is dedicated to someone whose name rhymes with feather.

---

When I was home for Thanksgiving, my cousin, the co-author of "The Pairing List" shot me a look that indicated he had a story to tell. The look did not lie.

Him: So... did Grandma call you about our short story?

Me: What? No.

Him: She hasn't said anything about it to you?

Me: Nope.

Him: Well, she called me about it.

Me: Really? This ought to be interesting. Did she like it?

Him: Didn't say. Mainly she just scolded me for using the Lord's name in vain.

Me: (bursts into laughter) THAT'S THE GREATEST THING I'VE EVER HEARD!

Later, upon telling someone whose opinion I highly regard about it over dinner, she inquired as to exactly how I had broken the third commandment.

"I think we used the words 'Jesus Christ' as a curse, but I'm not sure," I answered. (I later did a word search of the document, and found that we used "Jesus", but not "Jesus Christ" in its entirety.)

She pulled her hands up to her face and gasped as if she had been slapped, exclaiming: "COREY! That's the worst one!"

When I laughed at this, she told me she hoped my Grandma kicked my ass for what I wrote. Upon picturing this particular event occurring, I cracked up even more. Little did I know that even though my Grandma wouldn't beat me up over the ordeal, my ass would be handed to me regardless.

The next day at work, I was still amused by the whole situation and too busy clapping myself on the back for being a jackass to notice that powerful forces were preparing to teach me a lesson. Not two hours later, a terrible allergy attack descended upon me with terrible fury. My eyes burned and watered, my voice nearly disappeared completely, and I gained the specific and not-so-pleasant sensation of ants crawling under the flesh of my face.

When one of my coworkers walked into my office to tell me something, he nearly dropped the files he was carrying. "OH MY GOD!" he almost screamed. "What happened to you?"

I was too preoccupied with my own misery to appreciate the irony of this.

For the next few days, anyone I encountered avoided me as if I were a leper or plague victim, despite my insisting that allergies are not contagious. I looked awful, though. I was a watery, itchy, sneezy, voiceless mess.

"Dude, you seriously need to medicate. Like, now. Go and take drugs," a friend ordered me one night.

A few days later, I asked the girl who thought my grandmother should kick my ass if she thought The Powers That Be were punishing me for my writerly sin.

"Oh definitely," she said without hesitation.

"Awesome," I managed to croak out, immediately brightening. I was thrilled that forces beyond my understanding thought the issue important enough to weigh in and deliver judgement. When you're a fledgling writer, you'll take any feedback you can get your hands on, even if it's from a wrathful deity bent on teaching you a lesson.

Apparently it was decided that the lesson hadn't been ground into my psyche enough, because the next day I suffered, on top of my allergies, a pretty hefty migraine. My coordination and vision were shot, and my shaking hands made even a task like tying my shoes into an epic process. It stayed with me through the day, and I still feel echoes of it even as I type this.

So did I learn my lesson? Would I, if given the chance to go back in time, write the Lord's name in vain again in that story?

... You bet your ass I would.

While I may now know the cost of doing so, the characters I write have not shared my experiences with me. They'll think, look, sound, and talk differently than I do. Who am I to edit what comes out of their mouths, to pare down what they think and color it with my own thoughts and beliefs? I believe my cousin responded to my grandma with a response similar to this.

To all the aspiring authors out there: don't suffocate your characters with... well... you. Give them the freedom to breathe and talk the way they want to. Trust their voices, and let them be heard. Who knows? Maybe one day it'll mean the difference between a published manuscript and something you file away in a dusty drawer.

Just... y'know... be prepared to defend and explain your characters' thoughts and actions with the dignity and maturity my cousin used when responding to my grandma's complaints, rather than the jackass methods I utilized in response to inquiring minds. Believe me on that one.

What I've been up to

I've been cussed at several times for my lack of updating the past month. "What've you been up to?" is the most common question I get.

Writing, man. I've been damn near writing my nuts off.

On top of chugging along on Magic in Dogtown, I completed another short story the other week, and will most likely do another one before Christmas.

I'm trying to maintain my Christmas deadline for finishing Dogtown, but that's looking more and more impossible the more I write of it. Time is flying by too quickly. I feel it weighing down on me, and each day I look in the mirror, I notice how shockingly white my hair is getting.

Still, I'll try. I'm writing as fast as I can. It's definitely been one hell of a ride so far. Thanks go to those who have stuck with me through the entire thing. You know who you are. I appreciate it.

-Corey-