District 9

The first thing I'd say about District 9 is that it is not a film solely for sci-fi fans. It is, however, a welcome return to intelligent sci-fi for those who have been waiting and waiting. It's about ideas and ethics and I don't seem to remember weighty issues going through my mind after Transformers 2.

Most people who did their homework know that this is Neil Blomkamp's directorial debut (after a film adaptation of the Halo franchise, partnered with Peter Jackson, fell through). It's frequently mentioned that Blomkamp was born in South Africa. The kind of horrific settlement actually used for South African racial segregation, prior to apartheid's 1994 end, was used as the set for District 9. It's sobering when you realize the indignation you feel about aliens being so cruelly housed was a human reality for so long. Blomkamp has said the comparisions are inevitable, but he didn't want to hit the audience over the head with it. It's still an unavoidable link.

The movie begins as a documentary and immediately introduces the main character, Wikus van de Merwe, a debut performance by Sharito Copley. For two decades, an alien mothership has stalled over Johannesburg, South Africa and over a million aliens have been rescued and settled in District 9. The small, filthy shacks, with piles of trash everywhere, make up their new homeland. But, humans have become tired of the aliens, who have become scapegoats for any number of problems. Wikus' high profile assignment is to relocate the aliens to a new settlement, District 10, which will be worse than their current environment.

The transformation, both literal and figurative, of Wikus is simply mesmerizing. By the end, we're left wondering if one needs to lose their human nature to become humane. And to wonder what "humane" really means. At the end of a summer so full of empty spectacles, District 9 is a film of weight and meaning. Go there.

It's What I Do

When I initially mention to someone that I homeschool my son, I always wait to watch for a visible reaction. I wonder if their thoughts are what mine were when I first heard about "homeschooling": horror. How can sane parents remove their children from the daily norm of all their peers? Why would they do such a thing? What about socialization?

Well, in our case, it had never been the plan. Our son has always been very bright. Early on, it was clear he had some auditory focusing issues that made it extremely difficult to absorb information in a traditional classroom setting. We were told at Vanderbilt University, where--okay, I'm going to brag for a moment-- he became part of the Einstein Syndrome database, that the best recommendation would be to homeschool our son. And, if like most parents, you're determined to do what's best for your child, you step up to the plate. You just do it.

So, it had never been the plan, but it turned out to be a decision we've never regretted. Of course, there are moments that are less than thrilling, such as revisiting algebra and defining the differences between a noun in apposition vs. an objective complement or cognate object. Diagramming sentences. The words, "When will I ever have to use this?" have come back to haunt me.

Still, as any homeschooling parent knows, you suddenly have so much creativity in what you can add to your child's curriculum. Model of the Colosseum made with real stone? Check. Painting hieroglyphics to communicate messages? Check. Film a documentary about your neighborhood? Coming up. The discovery that travel is much cheaper when traditional schools are in session has allowed us to explore modern art at MoMA in NYC, science at Philadelphia's Franklin Institute and history at Independence Hall, collections at the Smithsonian in Washington, D.C., the Children's Museum in Seattle, Old Town San Diego. The list goes on. It's a different kind of education, and a wonderful one. (To assure some readers, our son has taken TaeKwonDo lessons three times a week for over six years now and participates in a weekly Co-Op, along with other gatherings. He does actually have friends his age.)

So, for those who wondered, that's how I spend my days. Now that my son has more independent work, I'm starting to dip my toes into writing projects again. I did get published in The New Yorker a couple of years ago. It was a letter in defense of homeschooling. (Really, we don't all cut our own hair and use a Bible and dictionary as our curriculum.) More challenging projects are calling. I've learned that the days, months, and years go by more quickly than I'd like. But, for now, the priority has to be on my son's education with my writing being squeezed in where I can find space, a spare fifteen minutes here and there. And who knows? Maybe a clearer sense of cognate objects will help my final draft.

When Low Tech Knocks Out Writer's Block

Just over two years ago, family history--previously unknown due to my mother's adoption-- begin revealing itself in my life in a way that begs eventual book or screenplay treatment. I have a growing group of stacked files and notes. As new discoveries are uncovered, there are multiple twists and turns that have not yet ended. Some paths may be red herrings...maybe not. But, one thing is certain: it's complicated.

One of the complications is the fact that several people in the story are extremely well-known, even though dead now for decades. Of course, they also make parts of the plot especially fascinating. I've been advised that I can use them, the famous and infamous alike, as long as I call whatever I write fiction. Even if it's entirely true, the fiction label is mandatory to avoid potential lawsuits from descendants. Fine. But, more complex now.

So, for just over two years, I've been diligently researching, faithfully adding notes to my files, but just as diligently avoiding the first step towards actually writing it all out. I was completely overwhelmed trying to figure out the starting point, especially when the end has not yet been determined. Of course, if it's fiction, I can just make that part up. But I don't want to. You see the problem? I've looked at First Draft and other software programs, wondering which are truly useful and which may be so formulaic I wouldn't use them. And then, I happened to see a link on Twitter.

I can't even explain how it is that my twitter circle is so highly populated with people in the film industry, it just is. And, a few weeks ago, a Los Angeles filmmaker, Angelo Bell (thank you again, Angelo!), posted a link to the lowest tech method imaginable for outlining your screenplay: 50 index cards. The site explained exactly how to set up the cards, from plotline to the protagonist's inner and outer journey, all the way through to the final scene. Too easy? No. Not if you really approach it with creativity and thought. And, bonus for me, it's completely portable, so I can work on the cards anywhere, anytime.

So, after years of nail-biting and researching software, I'm carrying around a pack of 50 index cards, held together by a rubber band. I'm one-third of the way through already.