Life as a NaNo Rebel

The Twirl and Swirl of Letters, Thesis Updates

So, November is upon us. And with the falling leaves, brisk wind and blue skies here in Boston comes the season of flying papers, dead highlighters and balding college students. Why balding? We rip our hair out trying to stay sane.

Two years ago I participated in NaNoWriMo for the first time and won. I wrote a rather disappointing novel, but I wrote one. The experience showed me that I can write a novel, that it is possible to finish one if I have the proper motivation.

Last year, I knew I wouldn’t have the time to truly participate, so I wrote a short story and called it a day.

This year, it happened to fall that I have three major papers to work on over the month of November. They aren’t due until December, but I figured, why not use NaNo to rebel?

I’m doubling rebelling, as I started writing these early.

And will I reach a total of 50,000 words? I don’t know. Probably not. All I care is that these essays get completed well. And if I’m writing them, might as well take advantage of the little word count chart, eh?

Best of luck to all NaNo-ers, Traditional or Rebels!

Claustrophobic Vision: The Omen

General Geekiness

Continuing with my classic horror viewing, on Friday night I watched the 1976 version of The Omen.

As the use of silence in The Exorcist struck me, The Omen‘s defining feature was the claustrophobic nature of the shots. The director uses close ups in the best possible way, focusing on the actors’ eyes. We see shots of Mrs Baylock’s eyes filling the screen frequently, and of Thorn’s as well. The extremely tight shots create feelings of intimacy and heightened awareness, along with adding to the creeping despair.

There is also a building feeling of dread to the movie. The film’s tension rises slowly, increasing with the dawning realization of what is actually going on. By the film’s climax, I was shaking, looking to my friend and whispering “I’m scared.”

Richard Donner, the director, did a fantastic job of disorienting the viewer. At times, particularly the scene in the Italian graveyard, the viewer is distanced from the characters. We take on a bird’s eye view, on the same level as the Rottweilers. At points, we cannot see the dogs, but we hear them shuffling around us.

The Rottweiler that guarded Damien was incredibly disturbing. Part of the film’s strength lies in how it makes the ordinary extraordinarily frightening. The dog walks through the house in the film’s climax…we can hear it, we can see it, but there’s something about it that frightens us tremendously.

 

Happy Halloween everyone!

Silence. Fearful, Hollow Silence: Sonic Atmosphere in The Exorcist

The Twirl and Swirl of Letters

This weekend, I watched the 1973 movie The Exorcist for the first time.

One thing that struck me about the film was the use of silence, the creeping, ever present lack of background accompaniment. The theme played twice (to my recollection), once when Chris is walking past the row of houses when returning from the set, and at the very end of the film.

The lack of an instrumental soundtrack adds to the encroaching foreboding persistent throughout the entire film. I found the quiet, the still, the calm, when contrasted with Regan’s wild, possessed moments, disturbing. It was the sense of waiting, of the knowledge of something darker just around the corner, that the silence portrayed so well.

The scene that struck me most was not one of horror, but one of desperate contemplation. It is the scene where Father Merrin and Father Karras are seated on the stairs, resting after the first round against the demon.  As they sit, deep within their own thoughts, worries and fears, the silence envelopes them. The viewer, who, like the two priests, has just been through the harrowing first part of the exorcism, rests, like them. The silence that surrounds the priests surrounds the viewer as well, a perfect mirror.

Just earlier that day, I was listening to one of the music channels. On the bottom of the page, the phrase “Choose Your Mood, On Music Choice” appeared. This seemingly innocuous phrase made my mind run.

The Exorcist does a good job of effecting one’s mood, even with the minimal soundtrack. The silence that permeates throughout the film gives a sense of alienation, heightened isolation.

The visuals, too, add a stark quality to the film that mirrors the lack of sound. The colors are muted. The set decoration is largely minimal. Much of the action surrounding Regan takes place in either hospitals or in her frighteningly Spartan room. Even the basement, often a site of clutter for many families, is eerily bare.

As a writer, this stark, empty, disconcerting quiet had me thinking about creating atmosphere in my writing. How would I go about conveying that encroaching, crushing quiet? My thought is minimal dialogue, short sentences, descriptive ones. Something to explore!

Note on the title: It sounds painfully academic. I’ve been doing research for my two theses–one is on The Prisoner, which has been somewhat documented here. The other is about Psycho and that’s the first mention of it.

Of stuffed birds, peep holes/cricket bats, pints, pubs, and Jags/ deconstructing brains

The Twirl and Swirl of Letters

Inspired by the Fix It or Deal post ‘zombie, zombie, burning bright’, I decided to write some of my own horror movie and zombie inspired haikus for Halloween!

 

Psycho:

Drip, drip, shower drain
Pretty girl, carving knife, scream
Blood, Mother, blood, blood!

Shaun of the Dead:

Pete is a zombie
Let’s go to the Winchester
Don’t say the zed word!

Philosopher zombies:
Vacant dead gaze
Shuffling gait. Drooling mouths sigh
What does undeath mean?

I’m rather proud of my Psycho haiku.

Haikus are fun to write. There’s something about there being very little space to compose a poem to grab the best words, best lines, twists of phrase. I prefer (when I even attempt to write poetry) to follow a form. I find free verse a little too free. For me, creativity (in poetry) rises out of restrictions.

There’s a bonus haiku in the title.

30 Days of Writing: Finally over.

General Geekiness

Final question! Tag someone! And tell us what you like about that person as a writer and/or about one of his/her characters!

I like lots of writers for lots of different reasons.

But I’m not going to make anyone else do this.

Instead, I’ll go back to working on my structuralism essay, contemplating theories for my Prisoner essay, and pray that my Psycho DVD arrives soon for the other, actually important thesis.

30 Days of Writing: Day Twenty-nine

The Twirl and Swirl of Letters

How often do you think about writing? Ever come across something IRL that reminds you of your story/characters?

I think about writing nearly all the time. I could be watching a movie and think of a turn of phrase, a description, something to get me thinking. I always am. I keep a journal beside my bed, in case I have an idea while sleeping.

In the movie viewing, a couple of nights ago I saw Doctor Zhivago for the first time. I was completely engrossed in the film, but during the scenes at Varynkino, I found myself entranced by the windows coated in frost. How to describe them? I wondered, before the words “fractured ice” came to mind.

I love plots, symbols, ideas, above all, characters. I observe, I report, I create.

Do things in real life remind me of my work?

Yes, yes, a thousand times, yes.

People on the street will have my characters’ faces (including one fellow in Edinburgh who not only looked like my character, he played the violin, too). Friends will say things that remind me of my characters, so I write them down for future use. Instances (such as my family going for a swim in the Marriott fountain because the pool was closed post wedding) will end up in stories, too…