is a blog by Brendan
In some genres there’s never really a question of whether the protagonist will get what she wants. Stories are often about emotional fulfillment, after all, so when you start watching (say) a romantic comedy, you’re not really wondering whether they’ll end up together. You’re wondering what it will cost.
I asked myself: What does it cost?
Wanna see how?
An Anacrusis Exclusive
Starting Monday
The division between “bland attempt at humor” and “disturbing suggestion of existential despair” is not always strong in Beetle Bailey.
I like Netflix a lot, and Maria and I have used it to power through almost four seasons of CSI in a matter of weeks. I suppose now I should start renting some “movies” with it, although, man, there’s a lot of Next Generation and Six Feet Under sitting in my “Q.”
I have three Netflix “friends” registered: Ken Moore, David Clark and Garrett Sparks. Today, bored, I was scrolling through the Netflix Top 100 when I noticed that almost every single one of them had a little purple person icon next to it.
Between the three of them, they had watched ninety-seven of the all-time most-rented Netflix movies.
Come, Internet, see for yourself. From here, you will witness the final destruction of the trilogy.
You want this, don’t you? The hate is swelling in you now. Take your keyboard. Use it. I am unarmed. Strike me down with it! Give in to your anger. With each passing moment you make yourself more my servant.
It is unavoidable. It is your destiny.
Oh no, my young Internet! You will find it is you who are mistaken, about a great many things.
The new movie… will suck.
Good, I can feel your anger. I am unarmed. Take your weapon. Strike me down with all of your hatred and your journey towards the Dark Side will be complete!
I keep meaning to talk about Vocabulary Notebook! Why haven’t I talked about Vocabulary Notebook yet! Ack!
So basically Jeiel (and, sometimes, his cousin Mia) checks the Word-of-the-Day lists at MW or NYT or wherever and finds a cool word, and writes a story using it. I think this is a fantastic illustration of an inspiring constraint–he starts every story with a limitation and the seed of an idea, and they’re different every time.
Jeiel’s stated that VN was inspired by Anacrusis, which is very flattering (and is how I found the site in the first place). This isn’t a sneaky back-pat loop, though; the stories he writes are good, and they’re getting better.
I’ve written about talking on the phone to Sumana before, but now you can experience it vicariously yourself: her interview with Diana Abu-Jaber resembles my own conversations with her. Ms. Abu-Jaber is much quicker on her feet than I, of course–even the moment when she belatedly realizes that she and Sumana have met before is graceful. (Oh, spoilers!)
I would have said “priceless” for “graceful” there, but Mastercard has ruined that word forever. I wish they’d make that campaign die, but this is unlikely as long as I keep pouring money into them.
Sumana also has a brand-new permalink to her column, MC Masala. It is an excellent column!
My brother graduated! From college! CONGRATULATIONS, IAN!
David Flora steps up with a terzanelle of his own–ignoring word count, but with fantastic use of full-line rhyme as a substitute for repetition and slick iambic pentameter (in which terzanelles are really supposed to be).
Fixed-format poetry was just one more subgenre of constrained writing, which is probably why I find old forms so much more interesting than those of modern and postmodern poetry. Constraints like the terzanelle provide so much opportunity for innovation, as Holly and Flora have just demonstrated. I still think the best explanation of the value therein comes from Constrained.org’s FAQ:
“Constraints set additional challenges to the writer. Writing to a constraint is like solving a puzzle. Graceful solutions have a pleasing feel – like watching the moves of a chess master – on top of their value as stories.”
I’m always delighted to rediscover that my friends are masterful, in some way or many.
In other Anacrusis-tangent news, I’m happy to report that Holly threw my gauntlet right back in my face and did, in fact, prove me wrong. I reprint her story-poem here, with her permission, to keep it from getting lost to the winds of LJ-feed comment rot:
The Burger King is fat with youth,
With adolescent pageantry,
With shining eyes revealing truth.He’s fifty-two; unagingly
He lounges over golden thrones
With adolescent pageantry.Unwrinkled cheeks, uncreaking bones;
But nothing sinster to dread.
He lounges over golden thrones.No bloody baths, no gingerbread.
He chargrills souls to golden brown
But nothing sinister to dread.Adorned with shining paper crown
His sceptre’s high; his forehead clear;
He chargrills souls to golden brownAnd swallows them with ginger beer.
The Burger King is fat with youth,
His sceptre’s high, his forehead clear
With shining eyes revealing truth.