Waking Up
In the mid 1990's, when I was young and naive...or just young really...I was writing probably as much as I do now. I was surrounded by inspiration. I am thankful for this time because much of what I am as a writer today in my poetry and prose comes from elements which these artists opened for others.
Pulp Fiction and Clerks were just released in the movie theaters. The dialogue of both films was different, sinister, yet down to earth. A little discomforting at times yet mixed with humor (think Vincent and Jules' dialogue on foot massages). I'll admit, my own movies ideas at the time were simple and 'neat.' Like a nice kitchen with white curtains and a window open to let the sun come in. Boy meets girl, boy falls in love, boy tries some clever scheme to get to know girl, etc. I kinda needed a kick in the hoo-hahs and those movies delivered.
Alanis Morisette comes to mind for music. While I thoroughly, and with slightly colored cheeks, admit that I was a big Hootie fan (again, I was writing stories about a romance so hopeless any music which could support the "I'm not worthy" thoughts was awesome). Then Alanis comes along with an album dedicated to hating on Dave Coulier. Like the movies, I was kind of disconcerted to hear lines like "did she go down on you in a theater." Her "hey Dave...go f*** yourself!" themes jarred some stuff loose for me.
I am blessed to say that growing up in Milwaukee around that time yielded two more experiences which profoundly changed the way I thought about my writing. My friends and I would go see The Dead Alewives which was an experimental comedy troupe containing members of ComedySportz. I was so used to the non-swearing and quite constricting rules of ComedySportz that watching these seven men (Mondy, Rob, Dan, Sean, Kurt, Bo, and Peter) butcher them like a sort of serial comedian really woke me from a small world. It was hard not to be offended but it was more hard not to laugh.
I've mentioned him before, but one of the members of the Dead Alewives, Rob Schrab, also wrote and illustrated a comic book called Scud: The Disposeable Assassin. Even though it had been a while since I'd read comics, reading a black and white comic, with art which was as gritty as Frank Miller but as simple as Phil Hester really coldcocked any preconceived notions I had about superheroes. It was violent, but thought provoking. Scud was a free spirit as a character, but he was also a killer with no remorse.
All of these influences definitely played into my first short story, which soon became part of another larger story of my life. I wrote The Date when I was head over heels for Mia Scampini. The story, like most of my stories, started out with this very analytical, kinda Woody Allenish character worried about whether or not the girl of his dreams likes him. In a serendipitous turn of events, she calls him, and soon they're headed to the most romantic place on earth: a vehicle emissions inspection center.
As the date (more to him, less to her) goes along, the story gets kinda dull. And since most of the story was autobiographical, I reached a horrible moment where I had no idea where to go next. The characters in the story (written as 'him' and 'her' to protect the innocent) were at the center, and the date seemed over. That was until they get into a high speed gun battle where the 'her' just happens to be an expert markswoman. It was the first time in a story I had violence, extremely graphic descriptions of head's exploding, and lots and lots of swearing.
Of course I took the biggest risk by giving it to Mia, who read it and loved it, mostly proven by the fact that she gave it to a slew of her friends to read. Nothing like being insecure and in high school reading a fictional short story about some slightly geeky kid who likes a character so close to your friend, who in the story just happens to blow people away with a .38 (yielding one of my favorite moments from her when she corrected me that her eyes were green not brown).
Kevin Smith, Quentin Tarantino, Alanis, Rob, and the Alewives all broke ground for me. It was kind of like giving a kid access to Big Foot at an antique car show/kitty cat convention. Dead kittens and smashed Hudsons everywhere.
Of course we all grow up and while we find our voice and one that makes us most comfortable we also adapt to our changing times. We also learn new lessons and sometimes use our old ways to illustrate life's changes. Smith did Clerks 2 which was not in grainy black and white but definitely had those "did he really just say that" lines of dialogue still quoted today. Tarantino did Grind House, and although it had the benefit of new movie tech (and more money) it was still classic Tarantino chaos. Alanis is dating Ryan Reynolds, but she's found new ways to shock audiences (if you've never heard/seen her version of 'My Humps' check out YouTube stat!). And although the original Alewives are no more, many of them are successful doing other things.
Like Rob, who just released Scud #21 after a 10 year hiatus. It is the first of four and did not disappoint, not just because it was refreshing to see Scud return as the hero but because it still manages to kick you in the teeth with new themes (for more please see the review in Comic Smack) . And so, I leave you Rob's opening thoughts to #21, in honor of the great artists who woke me up with their creativity, and the fact that they took a risk themselves with their own original voices:
"Learn from the pain of an old nerd. And take this bit of wisdom: If there's something that you are procrastinating on, writing a book, making a movie or asking a girl out. Do it. Today. Be scared, be stupid but there is one thing you are not allowed to do: Give up. Empty your head. Empty it of all the ideas, stories, jokes, philosophies and inventions. Put it down on paper and share it. We are on this planet for such a short time; don't hog the magic by dying with it all in your head. Make your life extraordinary."
pb
Pulp Fiction and Clerks were just released in the movie theaters. The dialogue of both films was different, sinister, yet down to earth. A little discomforting at times yet mixed with humor (think Vincent and Jules' dialogue on foot massages). I'll admit, my own movies ideas at the time were simple and 'neat.' Like a nice kitchen with white curtains and a window open to let the sun come in. Boy meets girl, boy falls in love, boy tries some clever scheme to get to know girl, etc. I kinda needed a kick in the hoo-hahs and those movies delivered.
Alanis Morisette comes to mind for music. While I thoroughly, and with slightly colored cheeks, admit that I was a big Hootie fan (again, I was writing stories about a romance so hopeless any music which could support the "I'm not worthy" thoughts was awesome). Then Alanis comes along with an album dedicated to hating on Dave Coulier. Like the movies, I was kind of disconcerted to hear lines like "did she go down on you in a theater." Her "hey Dave...go f*** yourself!" themes jarred some stuff loose for me.
I am blessed to say that growing up in Milwaukee around that time yielded two more experiences which profoundly changed the way I thought about my writing. My friends and I would go see The Dead Alewives which was an experimental comedy troupe containing members of ComedySportz. I was so used to the non-swearing and quite constricting rules of ComedySportz that watching these seven men (Mondy, Rob, Dan, Sean, Kurt, Bo, and Peter) butcher them like a sort of serial comedian really woke me from a small world. It was hard not to be offended but it was more hard not to laugh.
I've mentioned him before, but one of the members of the Dead Alewives, Rob Schrab, also wrote and illustrated a comic book called Scud: The Disposeable Assassin. Even though it had been a while since I'd read comics, reading a black and white comic, with art which was as gritty as Frank Miller but as simple as Phil Hester really coldcocked any preconceived notions I had about superheroes. It was violent, but thought provoking. Scud was a free spirit as a character, but he was also a killer with no remorse.
All of these influences definitely played into my first short story, which soon became part of another larger story of my life. I wrote The Date when I was head over heels for Mia Scampini. The story, like most of my stories, started out with this very analytical, kinda Woody Allenish character worried about whether or not the girl of his dreams likes him. In a serendipitous turn of events, she calls him, and soon they're headed to the most romantic place on earth: a vehicle emissions inspection center.
As the date (more to him, less to her) goes along, the story gets kinda dull. And since most of the story was autobiographical, I reached a horrible moment where I had no idea where to go next. The characters in the story (written as 'him' and 'her' to protect the innocent) were at the center, and the date seemed over. That was until they get into a high speed gun battle where the 'her' just happens to be an expert markswoman. It was the first time in a story I had violence, extremely graphic descriptions of head's exploding, and lots and lots of swearing.
Of course I took the biggest risk by giving it to Mia, who read it and loved it, mostly proven by the fact that she gave it to a slew of her friends to read. Nothing like being insecure and in high school reading a fictional short story about some slightly geeky kid who likes a character so close to your friend, who in the story just happens to blow people away with a .38 (yielding one of my favorite moments from her when she corrected me that her eyes were green not brown).
Kevin Smith, Quentin Tarantino, Alanis, Rob, and the Alewives all broke ground for me. It was kind of like giving a kid access to Big Foot at an antique car show/kitty cat convention. Dead kittens and smashed Hudsons everywhere.
Of course we all grow up and while we find our voice and one that makes us most comfortable we also adapt to our changing times. We also learn new lessons and sometimes use our old ways to illustrate life's changes. Smith did Clerks 2 which was not in grainy black and white but definitely had those "did he really just say that" lines of dialogue still quoted today. Tarantino did Grind House, and although it had the benefit of new movie tech (and more money) it was still classic Tarantino chaos. Alanis is dating Ryan Reynolds, but she's found new ways to shock audiences (if you've never heard/seen her version of 'My Humps' check out YouTube stat!). And although the original Alewives are no more, many of them are successful doing other things.
Like Rob, who just released Scud #21 after a 10 year hiatus. It is the first of four and did not disappoint, not just because it was refreshing to see Scud return as the hero but because it still manages to kick you in the teeth with new themes (for more please see the review in Comic Smack) . And so, I leave you Rob's opening thoughts to #21, in honor of the great artists who woke me up with their creativity, and the fact that they took a risk themselves with their own original voices:
"Learn from the pain of an old nerd. And take this bit of wisdom: If there's something that you are procrastinating on, writing a book, making a movie or asking a girl out. Do it. Today. Be scared, be stupid but there is one thing you are not allowed to do: Give up. Empty your head. Empty it of all the ideas, stories, jokes, philosophies and inventions. Put it down on paper and share it. We are on this planet for such a short time; don't hog the magic by dying with it all in your head. Make your life extraordinary."
pb
posted by Peter Brooks at 10:45 PM
<< Home