Sunday, April 28, 2013

Short Post and a Song #51: I suppose you could also just do his voice in an animated film, but the shrinking thing would be way more impressive.

Dear Michael B. Jordan,

You were one of my most favorite parts of Friday Night Lights. Could you do me a favor and shrink yourself down to an eleven-year-old boy so you can play one of the main characters in my children's novel if it ever gets made into a movie? 

I know the book's not even done yet, much less agented or published. But hey, if it doesn't work out, at least you'll get to do high school all over again. And who doesn't want that?


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"Dirty Paws" by Of Monsters and Men




Today's Short Post and a Song is kinda cohesive for once, since like Michael B. Jordan, this song helps me to imagine what a movie adapted from my WIP might look like. "Dirty Paws" would serve as the soundtrack for my imaginary opening credits, which in my mind would take up the entire song and have the moving-through-the-story feel of Daniel Kleinman's Skyfall opening (only with less guns and sexy ladies and more monsters and flying horses).

Of Monsters and Men has officially become the first band that I have featured not just once, not just twice, but three times now on the blog. Not so coincidentally, these are also the first three songs on the album. I've taken to writing by hand on the subway in the morning these past few months, and nothing gets me ready to work on Moorhouse like listening to these three tracks. Not that I don't adore the rest of the album, but fortunately for me, the particularly Moorhouse-y songs are all strung together at the beginning.

Okay, off to go write more of that book. It may have not only been bought by a publisher but sold for film in my dreams, but in reality I've got another 10-15k more words to power through. Onward!

Thursday, April 25, 2013

The Book Thief is loosely based on my life. (Not really.)

When I was a kid I visited my local library very, very frequently. I searched high and low for each and every unicorn-adorned book I could find in the children’s section (fellow fantasy-lovers of my generation will remember these unicorn stickers well). When I ran out of unicorn books around age or nine or ten, I wandered over to the adult section to see what wonders it held. 

Unfortunately for me and my local librarian, while I loved taking books out of the library, I was not very good at giving them back. I would tear through them quickly, then get distracted by my ten thousand extracurricular activities—I was on student council, an orange-vested crossing guard, and pretty much always rehearsing for some community play or other—and forget to return the books.

As the months and fees piled up, I still refused to take these books back to the library. It’s not that I thought I deserved these books for free, or didn’t think I should have to pay the late fees. I was just so terrified of disappointing the sweet, plump librarian that I couldn’t stand the thought of facing her and admitting that I had fucked up. 

Eventually I stopped checking books out of the library altogether. Instead I put books in my coat and quite brazenly walked around the alarms by the exit. God bless libraries; their security doesn’t tend to be exactly airtight. I sailed into the worlds of I Capture the Castle and Brave New World on commandeered ships, all because I couldn’t bear the thought that if I officially took the books out of the library, I might end up returning them late and disappointing someone. 

In my ten-year-old mind, stealing books which countless others could have enjoyed seemed a far more logical option than simply, you know, maybe just trying harder to take books back to the library on time.

The moral of this story is that you should never, ever lend a book to me. For all we know that might be just the trigger I need to send me spiraling into a full-scale life of crime. 


P.S. I’ll see you in court, Markus Zusak. 


P.P.S. (Not really.)

Sunday, April 21, 2013

Short Post and a Song #50: Twitter and I have a complicated relationship.


Often I log onto Twitter, full of good intentions to tweet. Then I see tweets like this…


Eating a bran muffin! #OhYeah #LOL #muffinsFTW 


…and I just get depressed.


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"Cantaloupe Island" by Herbie Hancock and Georgie Herrera




With this video you have the option to skip the opening conversation and go straight to thirteen-year-old Ecuadorian pianist Georgie Herrara jamming with his idol, jazz/funk legend Herbie Hancock. But I HIGHLY recommend that you don't. 

Prior to jamming, Georgie asks Herbie about the tempo of "9 Over Reggae." And Lord, I just love everything about what happens from there. I'm going to assume that Georgie's dad is the one filming, and he just wants so badly for his kid to get to play something with his idol, while Georgie is all "Shut up, Dad!" 

Georgie asks if Herbie will jam with him on this song (that specific performance with Pat Metheny includes amaze-balls piano and guitar solos, by the way).Then it almost seems like Herbie's not going to play with Georgie but then, BAM, no, he DOES! 

Not only that, but Herbie switches places with the kid to let him solo, then switches back to solo again. He not only gave Georgie a chance to jam with someone he looked up to, but also gave him the opportunity to show off his own considerable improvising skills. 

Damn it's nice when hugely talented people turn out to also not be dicks, am I right?

Sunday, April 14, 2013

Short Post and a Song #49: TV Apparation


Ever since I learned how to spot product placement back when I worked in TV research (yep, it's a thing), I've also been able to pick up on those other unnatural oddities that only exist in TV and never in reality. 

From now on, no matter what show you're watching, watch out for how often people unexpectedly show up outside each other's apartment doors, EVEN THOUGH buzzers exist and would render such an occurrance impossible. 

Just watch.



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"It's Only Wednesday" by Tony Beliveau/Crash Kings




It's Sunday, but it's been one of those weeks where I still feel like it's Wednesday. Or maybe it feels like it's next Wednesday already. The point is time gets very weird when you're on the last leg of writing a book.

Did I just say something along the lines of "I'm getting close to done with this book?" 

...Yes. Yes, I did. But let's talk about it once I'm actually done. I shouldn't be distracted too much longer, though, Velocininjas.

Sunday, April 7, 2013

Short Post and a Song #48: He should write plot summaries for IMDB.


Me: Do you remember Dark City?

Dr. Daniel Schreber: I remember that it's noirish ... and that it has that guy from those other movies.

Me: That may be the best description of a movie I have ever heard.


~*~*~*~*~


"Ho Hey" by Lennon and Maisy Stella





This is not the first time I've featured music from Nashville. There are a lot of absurdly talented people involved with that show and certainly not the least of which are Lennon and Maisy Stella, the thirteen and nine-year-old real-life sisters who play Connie Britton's daughters. I never even particularly liked the Lumineers' version of the song, but I can't seem to stop listening to this cover.