Tuesday, December 29, 2009

Pandora and Beckoning Worlds



As a child, I had a picture book with a particularly intriguing illustration. It showed a ring of fairies in the moonlight, each one with a different expression. Beneath a sky of brilliant violet and indigo, the ground looked coated with soft, green moss. There was something about it that looked so wonderful and magical that I was certain it was mysteriously real. Several times, I'd secretly stay awake until midnight. Suddenly opening the bookmarked page, I was convinced I'd catch at least one of the fairies moving or looking startled at my discovery of their world. I'm sure I won't ruin any suspense by saying that I was unsuccessful every time.

But that feeling, that hope of being able to experience another world felt very real when watching James Cameron's Avatar in 3D. I may be one of the few people who could have been satisfied if the film had eliminated the spectacular battle scenes in favor of a deeper exploration into the Na'Vi culture and a kind of travelogue across the planet. There were times when Pandora's color palette was so much like that old illustration that I had to smile. I loved that the Na'Vi shared the Native American tradition of offering a prayer of gratitude for the animal they'd just killed for their own sustenance. And there was a continued theme of connectivity of the people to the land, to the animals. This was literally played out when the Na'Vi would attach the end of their long braids to the end of an animal's tail and the two would move as one. So much begged further detail...the Tree of Life, the Hanging Islands, the many unnamed elements that kept my eyes on the screen at all times.

I realize that this sounds, especially to those who haven't seen the film, all very cliche in a kind of hippy-chic way. Honestly, I don't wear patchouli and I do shave my legs. I suppose since the film's setting is literally on a different planet, the ideas of harmony with nature and mutual respect seemed fresh and interesting. That in itself is an intruguing accomplishment.

If James Cameron's only goal had been to create a film that was a masterpiece of storytelling, I think he fell short. But, his goal of offering audiences an invitation to another planet that was unlike anything they'd experienced before, I have to applaud his success. And, thank the incredible artists who worked on the project, bringing me to the very edge of a new world.

Monday, December 7, 2009

NaNoWriMo aka Where I've Been Lately




During the last week of October, a friend of mine--whom I'll call "Donna", since that's her name---reminded me that on November 1st, the annual NaNoWriMo event would begin. She told me about it last year as well, when I handily brushed it off as insanity. This year, the challenge seemed intriguing.


What NaNoWriMo stands for is National Novel Writing Month. Since it's global, I'm not sure why it's not called International Novel Writing Month, but that's not up to me. Beginning at 12:00 a.m. on November 1st, registered participants may begin writing a novel. By 11:59 p.m. on November 30th, the (minimum) 50,000 word, 175 pages novel must be complete. How daunting is that? Of course, they try to reassure you that you need only produce the first draft and they encourage you to save all revisions and editing until after the first draft is finished. That makes the goal seem a tiny bit more reachable.


It seems the people behind NaNoWriMo, aka The Office of Letters and Light, know the Achilles' heel of most writers: procrastination. We all have fascinating plots, colorful characters, and witty dialogue in our minds. The problem is sitting down and writing it out. And that's a big problem if you want to get any traction as an author. So, NaNoWriMo, like an imagined stern headmaster, accepts no excuses. There are no deadline extensions available. The rules of the challenge are clear and few and even as I registered on their site, I wondered what in the world I'd gotten myself into.


Then, I upped the ante. Not only had I become an "Official Participant", but I actually went around telling people about it. I tweeted it on Twitter. I made updates about it on Facebook. I tried to make it as humiliating as possible for myself if I backed down from the challenge. Characteristically, I begin projects full of enthusiasm and productivity. And, at about the halfway point, I meander off in some vague other direction. This time, I gave myself daily goals that had to be met. The scenario that gave me cold sweats in the middle of the night was an image of myself at 11:30 p.m. on Nov. 30th with three chapters left to go. I promised myself, if nothing else, I would not play that role.


So, I kept at it. And friends and family, both in my physical world and my online world, encouraged me and cheered me on. My husband, always my staunchest supporter and advisor, became my writing coach. My son allowed me blocks of time to be alone with my laptop and never complained. My editor/cousin/soul sister in California insisted that I email her a new chapter every day. Most of my writing got done between 11:00 p.m. and 1:30 a.m., but I met each daily goal. No excuses. And, somewhere along the way, I realized I'd gone too far to turn back. I no longer had a choice in the matter.


And on Friday, November 27th, at just about 8:00 p.m., I wrote the last line of my novel, Blood Relations. I'd made the goal, met the challenge. And, as I suppose is the benefit of any project like NaNoWriMo, I learned something about myself. I can see a project through to completion. And that knowledge is a very valuable reward.