Charles Daly

Writer

Category: Articles (page 2 of 7)

Pen Review: Pilot Metropolitan

This week I’m checking out the Pilot Metropolitan: the number one fountain pen on Amazon and arguably the best beginner’s fountain pen ever made. This is the Honda Civic of pens. Like a Honda Civic, it delivers unrivaled quality for it’s price ($13) and it lasts forever even if you mistreat it.

The Writing Experience

I wanted to love this pen. A part of me even wanted it to usurp last week’s pen, the Kaweco Sport, as my go-to. But there’s one fatal flaw–for me at least–that makes this the five star pen I’m going to re-gift at the first opportunity.

Like so many great writers, the Pilot Metropolitan is severely unbalanced. The barrel and cap are made out of brass. There’s a commanding heft to it, which I do like. But when the cap is posted, all the heft makes the pen top heavy. Your experience may differ, but I couldn’t find a comfortable way to write with the cap posted. Even with the cap completely off–where it will inevitably go missing–the barrel is still so much heavier than the plastic grip.

This has more to do with the way I write and my personal taste than any fault in the design. But if this sounds like a writing experience you wouldn’t enjoy, may I suggest the Kaweco, which you could probably balance on your nose.

Design and Looks

On your desk or in your hand, this is a gorgeous writing instrument. No pen under $20–and very few at any price–can compete with the Metropolitan in the looks department.

Mine is from the Retro Pop series. Accented with an orange hippy flower print, it looks like the Porsche Janis Joplin died in. There’s also an Animal Print series, featuring white tiger, leopard, lizard, python, and crocodile. Those look a little goofy, if you ask me.

Pilot-metropolitan

The presentation is something special. It comes in a padded tin box and a boutique-ish little bag. The effect is charming like “awwww, you didn’t have to do that.”
Pilot-Metropolitan

The Nib

The Metro has a steel nib that still manages to give you some warmth and just the right amount of feedback. It’s not scratchy, but it doesn’t let you forget that paper has a grain and texture.

It’s a Japanese medium, which is more like a German fine. The “sweet spot” is generous, you can write from almost any angle and still get a clean line. It’s not super wet

pilot-metropolitan

When I varied the pressure, I could control the line in a way that reminded me of writing with a calligraphy pen. I don’t have the penmanship to make the most of this, but it would be a treat for someone who does.

The nib is long, like a less boxy Lamy Safari nib. This length could be where some of the springiness comes from. I found the Metro favors a vertical writing style, closer to an ordinary pen. I could see this being handy for a beginner who’s never given any thought to the angle of their writing utensil.

Looks wise, the nib is precisely engineered but totally generic. It’s about as exciting as the suspension on a Honda Civic. That’s the point.

The Ink

Mine takes an international short cartridge. I found this out after canvasing the city for Pilot cartridges, having read that it only takes those. (Weird that it didn’t come with one, I’ve since seen other Metros that do include ink.)

I have no experience with the converter, but the Goulet Pen Company had good things to say about it in their video review.

The Bottom Line

I didn’t like this pen but you’ll love it.

Everything about the Metropolitan is designed to give a good first impression to new fountain pen users and a reliable everyday writing experience to the ones who’ve moved on to something different. And you will move on. To go back to the Honda Civic analogy: you could say it’s reliable, you could say it’s boring. In either case, you’d be right.

 

 

DISCLAIMER: This post contains affiliate links. All Amazon prices and availability are subject to change, and only current as of the time of publication of this review.

Writing All Night in Dublin Airport

Note: the following was written, edited, and published in the middle of an all-nighter. All typos and style fails are strictly rhetorical.
(Dec, 2016)

I’m writing this in Terminal 2 at Dublin Airport at four in the morning. I’ve decided to turn an overnight layover into an espresso-fueled writing spree. Here’s what I got up to during my impromptu residence.

I Observed and Took Notes

What was cool about spending a waking night in an airport is that all the people I was people-watching were doing the same thing, but they were all doing it differently.

Some people clutched their luggage while they slept, some knew my leg-hooked-through-the-pack-strap trik. One young lady seemed to be having a staring contest with her upright rolling luggage, totally paranoid. One guy slept with his feet up on a luggage cart.

Other people didn’t seem worried enough about their bags.

Continue reading on Medium 

Saeah Lee’s Siesta Doors

Every day, between the hours of 2:00PM and around 5:00 or 6:00PM, the city of Valencia, Spain shuts down for a siesta. Shops and restaurants all over the city close for business and lower steel shutters over their front doors. Many of these shutters are brightly decorated: with graffiti, murals advertising the business inside, and the occasional spray-painted cock.

 

Photographer Saeah Lee recently started documenting these shutters. She calls them “siesta doors.” Every day at siesta time and all day on Sundays, she’s out finding doors.

Continue reading on Medium

Interview: Alizé Meurisse – Novelist, Painter, Parisian

Back in 2012, while studying abroad in Paris, I did an interview with Alizé Meurisse that became one of my first blog posts and kicked off the Orange Typewriter series.

Alizé is back to talk about her new novel, Ataraxia, and the journey that has produced four novels, a book of artwork, a few album covers, a solo art exhibition, and a clothing line inspired by her work, all before 30.    


Judging by your books, you’re  a serious people watcher, particularly re: women and men.

I guess so. People are interesting. I am a woman and I’m interested in a woman’s experience. In Neverdays I wrote a masculine narrator, you don’t have to be a man to do that. The whole “write about you know” thing is a bit limited. Art, by definition deals with the universal.

With the new novel I’ve tried to explore SciFi as a way to get out of here and now. A poetic way to talk about issues and talk about the world. It’s like a mirror for our inner theatre and society and the self. 

Ataraxia looks at the way we negotiate with our own consciousness, that tight-rope we walk everyday between compromise and internal consistency: I’m a vegetarian but I’m okay with my leather shoes. I’m an environmentalist who leaves the tap on. I found it was easier to talk about these issues through the lens of SciFi

 

But you’re not ideological. You don’t seem to have an axe to grind. 

It’s about seeing the big picture and the mechanisms at work in our lives.  My interest in those mechanisms came from issues with my own femininity as a teenager. I was upset over the way women are perceived and groomed to be. From that understanding I became kinder and was able to step out of the system myself. Before I figured that out I really had issues with other women and with being one.

 

I don’t know how to put this, but not every writer belongs in a Parisian fashion line… The great feminist Norman Mailer wrote something about how most writers grow up on the sidelines (in American football) and don’t get asked to the big dance and writing is their solace. He argued that it can be hard out there for writers who are easy on the  eyes and socially well adjusted, like they don’t fit in with the misfits.

I probably found the same  solace in drawing and writing and everything. I  don’t feel popular and pretty.

Also my idea of attractiveness has always been a little removed and voyeuristic. Society seems to have a voyeuristic  attraction to artists who drink a lot and take drugs, which I don’t. I would rate myself as interesting or attractive by that standard.

 

What do you think of Paris? Your hometown does happen to be the spiritual home of the arts, but I feel like people who aren’t from there have a very different perspective. We Hemingway-ize the hell out of it.  

I like Paris but it’s very expensive now.  I don’t live the glamorous Parisian life other artists might lead and others might imagine. London has undergone the same change but somehow stays more vibrant. I think it’s up to the young people to keep the scene alive. I haven’t been but I hear Berlin has the hype that Paris once had.

To me Paris a very isolating place. The isolation has improved a little since I adopted a cat. 

You were a painter first, right?

Alize-MeurisseYes. I was always drawing as a kid, writing came later. I only came to enjoy reading literature in high school when I started to understand how a text works. It’s always been about the inner workings of the text for me. I’m more interested in the layers of structure than the outer polish of plot and context.

I prefer the poetry of language to pure story. I think that’s related to drawing and painting. Words are another material, like a brush, like paint.

 

Did you have any formal training as an artist?

There’s an established path for artists in France, I didn’t follow that track. I ran away at 19.

When I was in high school my parents got divorced. I did a 2 year prep course (after high school) in philosophy and lit. When I finished my dad really wanted me to go to uni so we didn’t get along. It got to where he was going to kick me out if I didn’t go. At one point he told me that if I thought I could become a so-called artist and still have a roof over my head I had another think coming. I was so outraged by the injustice of his words I left in a fury. It wasn’t so much his reservations about an artist’s life–that was fair enough–but the way he assumed I was lying and manipulating. I held myself to a very high moral standard in those days and being called a liar was unthinkable. 

Anyway, I called his bluff: I slammed the door,  packed my little suitcase with my Nikon FM camera, and went to London to be an artist. I was 19.

London seemed like a natural choice because it was close and I had studied English in school.  London’s pretty attractive it feels like anything can happen there.

Alize-meurisseI took photos of famous British bands. When I got back, publishers were interested in doing a coffee table book but one publisher told me the book was a bad idea. They said people would only see the fame and I’d be invisible. But let’s see your writing. 

When I decided to turn down the money for the coffee table book and write a novel my father was again furious “who do you think you are! ‘A writer!?’ Get over yourself. You should take the money you’re lucky to be offered for those photos… etc”.
Again I slammed the door behind me. The opposition spurred me on. And of course when the novel came out he was very proud.


I guess sometimes you need to feel that someone has faith in you and I’ve often been lifted by that kind of support. But nay-sayer also have their use in terms of motivation. With hindsight I’m glad I had something to push back against.

It all could have gone very differently. It’s not luck, but when you’re that young you don’t think in terms of a future and a career. I had no idea where any of it was going. What was lucky was my living situation. Because I had a camera a lot of people opened their doors. I could squat anywhere and that changed things. Having a day job makes it harder.

One thing I learned doing it that way is that mistakes aren’t really mistakes.

I chose a very different path but many people need the support and structure of art school. There’s more of that internal negotiation with ourselves. I made it work in a way that worked for me.

 

Were the album covers an offshoot of that London project?

Those came a bit later, after the first novels. I did the Babyshamble’s cover for “Shotter’s Nation” and then Peter’s (Doherty) solo album.

grace/watelands-peter-doherty-solo-album-alize-meurisseshotters-nation-babyshambles-album-cover-alize-meurisse

It’s no secret that there’s a lot of hard drugs in that scene in London. What was that like as a teetotaling observer? In my experience it tends to be the innocent bystanders who catch most of the shrapnel in an addict’s life.

I learned a lot. Trust is funny, you never have any guarantees trusting anyone, but when it comes to any addict you  have the guarantee that the trust will be broken. So people just give up and walk away.

Personally, I’ve never been a big party girl. Even around bands, to me it was more of a clan and a community than a rock and roll bacchanalia.

Publishers like autobiographical fiction. But that’s not me, I don’t have the lifestyle you see in my books. Being around that stuff requires balance. As a person you’re looking for a sense of health and happiness but at the same time you need to let in a little chaos. That’s another one of those bargains, that’s the idea underlying the new novel. Every choice we make matters.

 

Alize-meurisseDo you ever worry about being defined by that time in your life? Your British rock cred does seem to be the first they bring up in reviews and interviews.

It can be a bit frustrating, but you expect people to mention it. You can’t live on bitterness and frustration. The variety of life experiences is so much bigger than any one event or accomplishment. That’s what I’m interested in. 

 

What does research look like for you?

Never thought about seeking out settings and subjects. I like not having a settled life and having the freedom to do something spontaneous. I wonder should I travel? I adopted a cat recently, that’s been a big change. It’s soothing to come home to her, but If I find myself thinking about the possibility of taking a trip six months from now, maybe a trip that I wouldn’t have even considered if I didn’t have this attachment. I can’t so I won’t.

I don’t put myself through things in order to write. I think you have to live your life and if you have something to write then you should write it.  

 

Your first two novels are short, right in that word-count range that’s supposed to make publisher’s nervous. Do you think about that sort of thing?

I’ve always written the books I was interested in figuring out. It’s like a puzzle. Each has its own rules and I’m excited to figure those out. This one was different, more like a camera’s eye moving around. Everything happens in front of you. It’s not meant to be funny, it’s not first person, so you don’t get the same closeness as you do with the other books.

As for an audience, I didn’t think about what the larger public wants, I’ve been lucky to work with publishers who feel the same.

alize-meurisse

Your style has been compared to a “couteau Suisse” (Swiss Army knife.)

That comes from collage. Depth comes from that correspondence of different parts. A text works the same way–visually.

You always hit a moment where you have to replenish yourself, it’s always good to turn to something else, like drawing or painting and come back.

 

What’s something you see a lot in fiction that you don’t like?

I don’t like it when an author is not aware of their own prism, especially when it comes to men writing about women.

Alize-meurisseDo you find you learn a lot from work you don’t like?

Definitely. Rather than getting angry about it, I exercise my right to reply.

 

Who should we read?

I keep reading but my goes blank when anyone asks about favorites. It’s the same with movies. I can’t think in terms of favorites. I guess you could compare it to food right? You eat, you get hungry, but you don’t have a menu in your head.

 

Any thoughts on the future of publishing?

It’s been really eye opening to change publishers. I had to learn what’s going on and the politics involved. But I don’t know what’s going to happen. If anything  it’s (e-publishing) only going to raise the standards for print.

The publishing industry likes safe bets from massive success. I don’t think that will change.

 

I’ve heard other French writers and readers praise Irish/Anglo/American fiction for the way our writers play with language and structure. They say that’s just not done the same way in French. My French isn’t good enough to put that theory to the test.

It’s true. That’s why I love reading in English.

 

The one exception I can think of is Jean Genet

I loved Genet straight away for his use of language.

 

It’s amazing how he can make such an unpleasant subject so emotionally captivating. (Prison sex, for those of you who don’t know.)

That’s the power of poetics. Nabokov’s Lolita does that too.

 

alize-meurisse-jumper-each-otherWe read that book in a class on narrative in college. One young lady told the class it made her wonder, “Was I a ‘nymphet’ at that age?”

It’s so sad, but as women, we’re taught to care about the man’s opinion of us, even if he is a monster like Humbert Humbert.


Do you ever write in English?

I do, and I absolutely love it. Writing in English is like the moment when you check your bags at the airport and you’re free to move around.

 

What’s your process when it comes to painting?

I don’t analyze what I’m doing. Some things work, some things don’t. Not very conceptual I guess. I’m more interested in art alize-meurissewhere you can see the artist’s body in action. Like drawing where you see the hand of interaction between artist and medium.

Conceptual art is like a detective story, once you know “who done-it” there’s nothing there for you anymore. I prefer that fossil trace of the artist. I want to make art that stands up in time, even for a single person, something you can come back to again and again.

The art that I enjoy most makes me want to make things.  

 

Is the “right to reply” related to loneliness in any way? You don’t that connection from a frustrating piece of art so you must connect in your own way.

It’s more of a pure pleasure I think. When I see art that I love it makes me want to make art because the pleasure I get from it is such a high. And the stuff that I disagree with, I just exercise a kind of “right of reply” (most of the time a female right of reply to a patriarchal perspective which I find oppressive and enraging, but it happens with many other subject matters too)

I’ve never been all that active on social media not written a blog or a journal, but I’m happy to post whatever doodle or iPhone pic I might have taken that day that “connection” is very nice on a daily basis although I think the work demands a certain amount of solitude. Of forgetting oneself.

 

Have you got any advice for the person you were ten years ago?

My First book was in 2007, so ten years ago I was working on that. It’s interesting you should ask that because sometimes I wish I could just Alize-Meurisseedit my life, but at the same time if you’re happy with the place you’re in now you don’t want to change it and that includes the times that lead you to that place.

I don’t know that I would give myself advice but I wish I could go back and give myself a hug.

 

What keeps you going?

At the end of (writing) each novel there’s the fear you won’t write another. You don’t have it in you to write another right away and the fear is maybe you won’t. But if you have that writing bug you will be filled again and you’ll have to get it all out on the page.

Painting is much more location dependent. I may move someday for the painting.

People say you have to suffer, but there’s real highs to the writing.

 

So you must be in that place right now… What’s next?

alize-meurisse

I find that after dedicating myself fully to a project I’m not ready to jump straight into something else, there’s a transition period; a palate cleanser moment when I need to get some rest, to replenish, until the need/will to create comes back. A season-like cycle if you will.


I don’t have a routine, sometimes you have to allow yourself to do nothing. At all. Stay empty. And sometimes you have to push yourself a bit to get started again, but so far I’ve found that the happiness I get from creating stuff (writing/drawing) is embedded deep within me, that’s the way I am/see the world/process it/digest it. Of course there are moments of doubt when you wonder whether you’ve still got it in you ; but I guess you learn to go with the flow and not worry during the quieter times which are just as important as the more manic ones, some things happen under the surface.


And I think the recent disappointment in my old publishing company; the anguish of feeling betrayed and misunderstood has given me both the opportunity to fight for my work (I couldn’t have rested until it got published, so much work had to come full circle) but afterward I felt a sort of peace… like I had nothing to prove to myself or anyone anymore, in terms of ambition etc. It was humbling I guess, I realised I was ok with working in a shop and not publishing anything else again.


I guess if I start working and caring about another book the need to release it to the world will come back. But I guess what I’m trying to say is that I was on a path, in a publishing company that wasn’t just thinking in terms of books (each book being it’s own separate project) but in terms of my “carrier” and their own “reputation” (they feared the latter would be threatened by the publication of this book), and this sort of consideration really doesn’t sit well with me.
You always want your books to be well received, and when you’re young you have something to prove yourself so it matters even more. But I’m 30, I know even if I never make a living with my art, that’s ok. I just hope I’ll have other things to release into the world because I know it will be a source of great joy for me; working is such a high.
Sorry about the rambling…

you’re catching me at the lowest ebb
In a nutshell I guess what’s next is perseverance

 


Images courtesy of Alizé Meurisse

This interview has been edited for content and length. 

Hemingway Collection at the JFK Library

Ernest Hemingway didn’t travel light. His baggage included a modern art collection, books, drinking accessories, an impressive gun collection, and the heads and pelts of his hunting kills. Always on the move, he schlepped it all through three wars, four marriages, two plane crashes, and many homes. His writing style itself left a tremendous paper-trail as everything he wrote went through dozens of drafts. The last page of A Farewell to Arms was rewritten 49 times. Fortunately for future generations, Hemingway never threw anything away.

“Courage is grace under pressure.” President Kennedy used Hemingway’s definition of courage as the epigraph to his own book Profiles in Courage.

The final home for much of Hemingway’s stuff and 90% of his papers is the JFK Presidential Library in Boston Massachusetts. Some of the collection is on display (at least until December 31st, 2016) in an exhibit, Hemingway Between Two Wars, while the rest is in the Hemingway Collection, a wing of the Library archives.

Last month, I was lucky enough to visit both.

 Check out my visit to the JFK Library’s Hemingway Collection on Medium. 

Edit Sleepy

The average reader is exhausted.

She’s skimming for the gist on her phone.

He’s looking for a good stopping point because he can’t keep his eyes open. 

He’s glutted with information  and hasn’t got room for your words. 

She has a stack of manuscripts to get through and she knows the sooner you give her an excuse to pass on yours, the sooner she can spend some time with her family. 

You can anticipate the needs of your sleepy reader by editing your work when  you’re sleepy yourself. Your tolerance for lazy writing goes away when you’re tired and you know that every word you cut gets you closer to calling it a day. In a groggy state of mind, you’re more inclined to throw out a paragraph that isn’t working rather than waste your energy looking for a solution that might not exist.

A sleepy editor can empathize with a sleepy reader and may be able to craft a compelling alternative to the reader’s pillow.

 

Why I’m Ditching the ‘About Me’ & Author Bio

As a rule, author bios and ‘about me’ sections are just horrible. They tend to read like a cringe cocktail of humble-bragging and answers to the worst pickup-lines.

You want to be your quirky self without putting anyone off. You’re a writer who puts down reading as a hobby. You end with some pseudo edgy detail like your addiction to sushi or cold brew coffee. If you’ve been to Tokyo, you’re going to want to share that.

I’m part of the problem. In one ‘about me’ I talked about an old hat I’d been wearing as a security blanket. In another I referred to the Korean city I was living in as my “current basecamp.” I made a point of listing my every publication until I had a hefty paragraph of credits.

No more.

I’m replacing my ‘about’ page with a ‘now’ page. I got the idea from Derek Sivers. He made his because he was sick of answering the question ‘what are you working on?’ He soon found the now page helped him with his work. He writes, “It’s a nice reminder for myself, when I’m feeling unfocused. A public declaration of priorities. (sic.)  Sivers keeps a list of fellow now pagers at nownownow.com He still has an ‘about me,’ of sorts, on his homepage, but Sivers is so many things at once, I’d say he’s earned one.

You’ll find my now page directly to the right of this post, or on the home page if you’re reading on your phone. Shoot me an email if you really want to know what my middle name is or my go-to karaoke song.

Autumn Reading: My Massachusetts Bookshelf

Today was perfect reading weather on Cape Cod: Grey and wet with northeast winds and a small craft warning out on the water. It’s good to be home in the fall and surrounded by my books.

Here are my top home-state reads.

Mystic River -Dennis Lehane (fiction)

Mystic-river-dennis-lehane

The movie (more specifically Sean Penn’s back tattoos) helped put working class Boston on the sexy map.

There aren’t too many American cities where you could set a convincing  tale of Dostoevskian evil, guilt, and redemption, but it works in Boston.

 

The Perfect Storm – Sebastian Junger

The-perfect-storm-sebastian-junger-book-cover

If you took out the storm and the epic struggle for survival at sea, this would still be a fascinating read.

Most of us haven’t a clue how a piece of fish gets on our plate. In the case of swordfish, fishermen from the small town of Gloucester travel over a thousand miles in relatively tiny boats to reach their fishing grounds. They fish with 40 mile long lines (called longlines.) They die at rates higher than soldiers in combat.

 

A Death in Belmont – Sebastian Junger

a-death-in-belmont-book-cover-sebastian-junger

An investigation of a rape and murder–in a wealthy Boston suburb in 1963–for which the wrong man may have been convicted. Race, the psychology of killers and jurors, and the mood in Boston in the days following the Kennedy assassination.

 

Infinite Jest – David Foster Wallace (fiction)

 

Maybe this is how Tokyoites feel about Lost in Translation… I’m not sure I recognized my hometown, but it’s interesting to see it from an outsider’s brilliant brilliant brilliant point of view. Respect.

 

The Friends of Eddie Coyle – George V. Higgins (fiction)

the-friends-of-eddie-coyle

The story of a gun dealer and his lowlife cronies, required reading for writers looking to unfuck their dialogue. Elmore Leonard’s agent gave him this book as a homework assignment to fix the way his characters talk.

Spoiler alert, Eddie Coyle has no friends.

 

Black Mass – Dick Lehr & Gerard O’Neill

black-mass

 

The Departed tried to tell this story. One criticism of the movie from Boston people is that the truth was even crazier.  

Through the 70s, 80s, and 90s Whitey Bulger and his Winter Hill Gang terrorized South Boston. They murdered, mutilated, and extorted, all while enjoying the protection of the FBI.

Same neighborhood as Good Will Hunting, Boston’s a small town.

Off the Leash: a Year at the Dog Park – Matthew Gilbert

off-the-leash-matthew-gilbert

 

One for the dog lovers and anyone who needs something uplifting after Black Mass. Off the Leash is the story of one reluctant dog-person’s initiation into the little world inside of Brookline’s Amory Dog Park.  A story about friendship, and an inside look at Boston’s 4-legged social scene.  This is the book-length debut of Boston Globe TV critic Matthew Gilbert.

Cape Cod – Henry David Thoreau 

cape-cod-henry-david-thoreau

Life, nature, sand dunes. It’s Walden with an ocean instead of a pond.

The links (in the titles and book covers) are all affiliate links. 

Story Structure in ‘Sully’ – Meanwhile Back at the Ranch

Sully is the true story of Captain Chesley Sullenberger (played by Tom Hanks) who crash-landed US Airways Flight 1549 in the Hudson river, in 2009, saving everyone onboard.

It’s an incredible story, but how do you make a  ninety minute feature out of a flight that lasted a mere 200 seconds?

Sully solves this problem with a technique Hitchcock called “meanwhile back at the ranch.” It works like this: Start with one story and follow it to a peak moment, then start something else and go until that thread peaks, then go back to the first story or introduce a third element. Sully leaves the plane as it’s going down to give us the investigation that followed the crash (we all know how it ends after all.) The investigation storyline is broken up by scenes from Sully’s early days as a pilot in training. By the time we get to the entire crash-landing scene (it’s awesome) we care about more than just seeing the big splash that the trailer promised.

When you start looking for this technique, you’re going to see it everywhere. Melville might not be the first place you look, but “meanwhile back at the ranch” is how he gets you to read the chapters in Moby Dick about a sperm whale’s stomach contents.

My favorite example of this in non-fiction is Sebastian Junger’s The Perfect Storm. You learn so much about New England fisheries and the bar scene in Gloucester, Massachusetts as you turn pages to find out what happened to the Fishermen aboard the Andrea Gail

Done well, this technique adds richness and density to a short story and makes a long one more digestible.

For more on scene transitions and editing have a look at Every Frame a Painting.

I Need All The Help I Can Get (resources for when writing sucks)

Sometimes I need all the help I can get.

 

  • Six-second screenwriting tips from Brian Koppelman’s Vine. His ‘magic formula’ for success in the screenwriting game: unwavering belief, total commitment, and tireless work.

 

  •  The Imperfectionist. A former perfectionist shares lessons learned on the road to personal fulfillment and a life of her own design.

 

  • Seth Godin’s blog. You can get here by just Googling ‘Seth,’ that should tell you something. I like that he can say ‘yuge’ and not sound like a jerk.

 

  • The War of Art by Stephen Pressfield. Non-optional reading for anyone who needs to get unstuck.

 

Older posts Newer posts

© 2018 Charles Daly

Theme by Anders NorenUp ↑