Simpsons (Diatribe of a Mad Housewife): Movies about Writing

I don’t have to introduce “The Simpsons” right? Okay. Good.

While Homer is being fired once again, Marge takes the kids to a corporate run bookstore where the books are only on the fourth floor according to Lisa (seems legit). Deciding not to watch Bart mock the PHD level employees, Marge goes to a book reading by one of her favorite romance authors.

She asks the author about writing, which I have to say is an interesting scene. First the woman brags about her degree in writing from Yale, but follows it up with encouragement that anyone could be a writer. Huh. She’s a nice collegiate. Marge asks, “If I write a novel, will they tell me when it comes out?”

“They should,” replies the baffled author.

And thus Marge makes Homer watch the kids while she starts a novel about a whaling town, the first chapter of which is entitled “Starts and Beginnings.” She writes a sentence then has a brownie break.

WAIT! Writing is supposed to come with brownie breaks! WHY HAS NO ONE TOLD ME THIS!!!!!!

At first, Marge writes about a 19th century family whose patriarch is a handsome, thoughtful whaler who looks like a fit Homer. Then Homer comes home and acts like . . . well, Homer. This inspires Marge to change the husband of the novel into a “brute” who is terrible at his job and makes out with the mermaid on the front of his ship. And the hero of the story is instead modeled after the kind and muscular neighbor Ned Flanders.

Image property of Fox . . or Disney I can’t keep up!

Marge finishes writing and “dares to push print” without even editing it first. This aggravates me. What a waste of a paper (unless edits are happening on the paper first then being typed into the word document). Of course, she doesn’t edit it, nor does the publishers because it’s pointed out that the main character’s name changes to Marge for a part of the story. She presents the suggestive romance novel to her 8 year old daughter for judgement (I know what I just typed, but it’s the Simpsons - okay!). Lisa is torn because she both jealous that her mother wrote a novel before she did and worries that it’s a little too critical of Homer. Still, she giver Marge words of encouragement and the book is published. Just. Like. That. Reality be damned!

Homer promises to read all 286 pages before the book is printed, but he never makes it beyond the first paragraph. Then, when everyone else reads it and realizes that the characters are based on Homer, Marge, and Ned, Homer is humiliated and hurt. Marge is mostly annoyed that he didn’t actually read the book (and busy with her terrible reviews).

SPOILER ALERT!

It’s assumed that Homer will kill Flanders for being the imaginary hunk in Marge’s novel, but instead he begs Ned to give him advise on being a better husband. Homer and Marge then decide to try writing a novel about the JFK assassination together which at least they were doing research. Research that Marge probably didn’t do for her first novel other than looking up that Nantucket is an island.

Maybe it’s a good idea not to make your book obviously about people in your life. Just sayin’.

Opinions Wanted

The mixed among blogs over the next few weeks will be pieces of the opening of the next FSF publication. We want comments and critical responses. Thanks!

The book: Fable of the Immortals

A teenage boy is assigned to protect an ancient girl who looks only sixteen from her former mistress, a dethroned god.  

I will also be posting a few previews from the book throughout this month. Please feel free to leave comments. 

Editing Never Ends

Editing. Is. Eternal. 

Why are you here?

I told you that I’m editing. I’ll blog when I have a social life again. 

Writer’s Critique: The Possible Benifits of Gothic Novels

I was re-reading Northanger Abbey by Jane Austen. For those who don’t know the British Regency satire, Austen’s first written and last published work, is about a young woman obsessed with Gothic novels and how that leads her to rather embarrassing misadventures. This was a nod to the popular novels of her day, novels that Austen herself read. I’m not sure if Austen ever tried to write within this genre and decided it just wasn’t for her or if she knew she just wanted to give some recognition to what was considered the “buy at the airport trash novel” of the age.

The point is that you can’t read just your own genre when preparing to write.  I know this sounds like tired knowledge, the “if you want to be a writer you must read, read, read” advice which is always the first given in any class, workshop, or panel. The reason why you always hear it is because it’s good and true advice. So I’m just adding to it. You need to read more that simply the genre you want to write.

“But I only like romance which I why write romance,” I hear you say. That’s good, but you aren’t experiencing as much that could help you grow as a writer. 

For example, within Northanger Abbey Austen purposely mimics the adjective laden style of Anne Radcliffe, a popular Gothic author. She does this for the parts where the heroine is allowing her imagination to run away with her, added suspense that makes the reader wonder if something shocking might in fact be about to happen. Then, as truths are revealed she goes make to her normal style. 

I’m not saying use precious time reading things you hate, but broaden your scope just a little. Maybe start with a non-fiction book on a topic that interests you. Just don’t start with Anne Radcliffe’s Mysteries of Udolpho. That book is long or at least it felt long. 

Character Study - Talking Animals

Stories of fantasy and science fiction often utilize a speaking creature as a plot point. This tradition goes back to ancient mythology. However, there’s a distinction between the wise owl of the ages and Mr. Owl taking your sucker. When does the mystical being become the Disney sidekick and when are either appropriate?

First off, anyone who knows my Funko pop collection is aware of my weakness for Disney sidekicks (as well as Universal film monsters, but that’s a different story). But even the animators of these family movies have to make the decision between simply cute or human level communication. For example, in Moana and Tangled the animals show a higher level of emotion and comprehension without talking. This fits well into the fantasy realms in which the stories take place. They provide humor, warmth, and even some plot points, but do not detract or make the main ideas feel silly. Where as in Cinderella, the mice talk in ridiculous broken English, acting as both comic reliefs and talking heads for the audience.  

The trouble is when your creature serves no purpose other than aesthetic value. You think “Kids like spiders. I’m writing a kids book so I’ll add a spider.” Unless you’re Mercier Mayer, that isn’t really how it works. Character Osidekicks should always serve a role and have point. They should not just be an excuse to sell plush (I’m looking at you Barbie movies). 

A good modern example of an animal sidekick who cute, cuddly, and can be used as a plot device is Mouse, the Temple dog from Jim Butcher’s the Dresden Files. He checks all of the boxes and I would totally buy him as a plush. 

Best Place by the Fire: Some words on John Hurt and Storytelling

“Let me show you fate through the round of this ring—”

A poetic way to start a tale. Now, read it again, but this time, imagine a deep, warm voice with a slight gravely edge speaking to you.

Those words, written by Anthony Minghella, captured the short attention span of a five year old me. This was not simply because they were well-written words or the fact that they were a part of Jim Henson’s short run series “The Storyteller”. It was because the voice which spoke them mesmerized me. When John Hurt told a story, you listened.

In the wake of his passing, I re-watched this television series with a fresh sense of respect. The voice which sanctioned a hunt for the Black Cauldron, declared his humanity to a judgmental Victorian world, screamed in agony at the parasite within him (twice), raised Hellboy, helped a wand choose a wizard, and dared to tell the Time Lords “No more”, that was one of the first voices which made me want to write.

It’s a strange connection, yes, but it’s how it happened. Hurt brought Minghella’s versions old fairy tales to life by simply speaking in the way he always did. He filled each word with humor, tragedy, and adventure. It made me want to be able to put together words worthy of such a reading. And I will miss that voice.