Travel safe, eat well, hug your loved ones!
Been putting the garden to bed for the winter, but there’s still a bit of color left, here and there. Reds and yellows turning to brown, but still lots of green. Especially the kale. I suspect nothing will kill the kale.
The apple was from the last day of the farmers’ market near me. I’ve never eaten a pink-fleshed apple before. Of course I promptly forgot the name, but it’s crisp and fairly sweet with a bit of dryness. Quite tasty in salad.
I also ate a strawberry and a raspberry from the garden. Silly fruits, there’s not enough sunlight to make sugar. Go to sleep and I’ll see you in the spring.
I followed a link courtesy of author friend Teri Brown to a thoughtful piece by Jim Wright at Stonekettle Station about the, er, interesting times we find ourselves living in at the moment. It’s about dogma, fanatics, and fear. It’s a clear and rather terrifying glimpse into a mindset I sometimes have trouble understanding, so if you’re like me and frequently find yourself thinking, “WTF, humans?” you might go check it out.
(I know the post risks a tl;dr dismissal, but it’s worth reading, and a lot of the comments too.)
As a writer, I know well that THE hardest thing I can make a character do is face his or her cherished, long-held, clutched-to-the-chest-like-Grandma’s-pearls worldview. To question characters’ worldviews (their identity, as author and story consultant Michael Hauge calls it) challenges the very heart and soul of who they have been and offers only an uncertain glimpse into the future of who they might become.
Those characters who can’t accept the challenge have three options:
Sucks to be them. No wonder they are so afraid.
Those characters who are willing to face the challenge should be even more afraid. Because they will be hurt. They will find themselves on the run, usually stumbling, probably barefoot, most likely over rocks. Rocks with nails sticking out. Nails coated in salt and lime juice. They will lose whatever they cherish most, including Grandma’s pearls.
Whatever they fear most will inevitably loom up before them. How do I know this? Because it’s in the Author’s Handbook of Torturing Characters, of course.
But in the end, the characters willing to challenge — and change — the flaws and weaknesses in their own beliefs become heroes.
As readers, we demand such fortitude from our fictional characters. I wish we could expect the same from our real-life leaders.
Like a lot of people, my discretionary spending budget is smaller than I’d like, so I’m pretty picky about which movies I see in the theater. It’s easy to pull out two $20s and not get much back, and that’s just for me and XY (plus some popcorn, of course).
But when I heard so many good things about Gravity I knew I’d spend the bucks. And, yeah, it was worth it.
Jessa’s pithy review:
See it. See it on the big screen. See it in 3D.
XY’s even pithier review: ”Harrowing.”
A few less-pithy, non-spoiler points that might matter to some people:
1. I’d heard that the beginning of the movie might trigger nausea, and I sometimes get a bit of a queasy headache from shaky cams, so I was wondering about this. But I had no problems.
2. For some reason, I got the impression the movie would be just two people floating in space which sounded like it could be boring to me. But it wasn’t that.
3. Some people object to paying for 3D because either the effects feel pointless or look like a blatant money grab. But Gravity made good use of the 3D. I ducked and winced and gasped. The tension of the story and the sense of immersion were both enhanced by the 3D.
It was wonderful to see something that wasn’t a sequel or a reboot or an adaptation or an otherwise known entity. Go support the storytellers!
To read more of “Jessa’s pithy reviews” for books, find me on Goodreads.