Superior Spider-Man...? (aka Spidey dies... sort of... again)

Ok,  you've known him to be Amazing, you've known him to be Spectacular... well know he's about to be Superior.

Marvel, thanks to issue number seven hundred (700) is going to change the way Spider-Man is...  literally.

(spoilers)

So -- I haven't been following Amazing Spider-Man for a while, but I guess he's going to duke it out with Doctor Octopus in this episode -- and Spider-Man is going to forcibly transfer Doctor Octopus's mind into that of Peter Parker.

So, Doctor Octopus will sort of merge with Peter Parker.  He'll still have Peter Parker's sensibilities in a way, his morality -- but if you know Doc Ock -- he's got quite an ego -- hence the... Superior Spider-Man.

Here's a link to an article.  And another one here.

So, will his buddies figure out that Peter Parker isn't the real Peter Parker?

Is this permanent.... as permanent as any shift in comic books can be?  I guess the writer, Dan Slott, is getting death threats?

Jeeze, people.

How do I feel about this?  I dunno, sure.  Bring it on.  They'll probably REALLY mess with the Is Spider-Man a Hero or a menace type theme here.  To quote Sean Connery in the Hunt for Red October, "A little revolution is a good thing, every now and then."

I dunno, if I were Peter Parker, I don't know how I'd feel about Doc Ock hanging with my girl.  (Is he still with Mary Jane... or did that continuity get wiped out too)

Pomodoro/Egg Timer

A lot of times I sit down to write and I don't know what I'm doing.  I can't see the whole thing and I'm not inspired.  I hate the damn thing.  I have to watch the kid kind of thing, and I'd rather be doing something else.  But, it's your kid (metaphorical, creative kid) and you can't just ignore the thing.  You could, but then the kid would grow up with issues.

So, you don't over think it.  Don't try and do too much.  Just do 25 minutes.  Just spend 25 minutes with the kid and see what happens.  No expectations.  No nothing.  You spend 25 minutes, you win.  You don't have to FIGURE OUT the scene, you don't have to WIN A PULITZER PRIZE, you just spend 25 minutes.  That kind of stupid, simple, achievable goal - is the thing that gets me from one word to the next.  You just have to do that... I mean, if I can't do that... I'm stupid.  I'm a sucker.  I can't find 25 minutes...?  Come on, you know how many lackluster, non-productive things I could list that I have done -- that take MINIMALLY 25 minutes?

Ok.

I'm not the only one who feels this way.  Chuck Palahniuk has his "egg timer" method.  I don't have an egg timer.  I have a little pomodoro app on my computer.  So -- there you go :)

Two years ago, when I wrote the first of these essays it was about my “egg timer method” of writing.  You never saw that essay, but here’s the method:  When you don’t want to write, set an egg timer for one hour (or half hour) and sit down to write until the timer rings.  If you still hate writing, you’re free in an hour.  But usually, by the time that alarm rings, you’ll be so involved in your work, enjoying it so much, you’ll keep going.  Instead of an egg timer, you can put a load of clothes in the washer or dryer and use them to time your work.  Alternating the thoughtful task of writing with the mindless work of laundry or dish washing will give you the breaks you need for new ideas and insights to occur.  If you don’t know what comes next in the story…  clean your toilet.  Change the bed sheets.  For Christ sakes, dust the computer.  A better idea will come.

Thanks Chuck!  (more on Chuck P. here: http://chuckpalahniuk.net/workshop/essays/chuck-palahniuk)

So, get out there and toss the ball around with your creative kid.  There's not that much that's good on TV -- it's just 25 minutes :)

Writing about what upsets you...

So, I'm a member of this site called www.litreactor.com.  It used to be the Chuck Palahniuk fan club site -- but now it's morphed into something a little more general about writing, workshops.  You can submit your work, review others -- take online classes - and read essays by people... a bunch of them by Mr. Palahniuk himself.

(for those who don't know, Chuck Palahniuk is the guy who wrote Fight Club... a bunch of other stuff too, but Fight Club is the one that put him on the map)

In one of his essays he talks about a bunch of tips for writers.  Today I'm talking about number twelve:

Number Twelve:

Write about the issues that really upset you.  Those are the only things worth writing about.  In his course, called “Dangerous Writing,” Tom Spanbauer stresses that life is too precious to spend it writing tame, conventional stories to which you have no personal attachment.  There are so many things that Tom talked about but that I only half remember:  the art of “manumission,” which I can’t spell, but I understood to mean the care you use in moving a reader through the moments of a story.    And “sous conversation,” which I took to mean the hidden, buried message within the obvious story.  Because I’m not comfortable describing topics I only half-understand, Tom’s agreed to write a book about his workshop and the ideas he teaches.  The working title is “A Hole In The Heart,” and he plans to have a draft ready by June 2006, with a publishing date set in early 2007. 

Show, don't tell -- on introductions

“Don't say the old lady screamed. Bring her on and let her scream.”  ― Mark Twain

How are you introducing your character?  You know - the first time we see him or her?  What is she doing?  Can you accomplish more in that one scene?  What are they arguing about - what are they doing -- what are they IN THE MIDDLE OF.

Remember William Goldman?  Start Late.  Get out early.  Start a scene as late as possible, get out of it as soon as possible.

So, when you introduce your hero -- what character revealing thing are they doing?  Layer it up.  What character revealing piece of clothing, argument, action, everything - try and cram as much as you can in there.  Make every scene, every moment a thick, juicy bit of a dramatic moment.  Remember... this isn't real life.  It's a movie.  Movies, like love stories, go tell stories of the ordinary -- in a nice casing of the extraordinary.

Show, don't tell.