Friday, June 26, 2009
Michael Jackson and Me
When I was nine, I remember a classmate of mine brought into school a 45 single of a song I'd never heard before by a singer I didn't know. The song was "Billie Jean" by Michael Jackson.
My ignorance was soon rectified. Jackson's Thriller album was not just popular; it was a necessity like food, shelter, clothing. Or rather, a fact of life, like air, water, and earth. It was just there, inescapable, immovable, irresistible.
Though I knew the entire cassette by heart, and I had images of Michael Jackson on buttons and posters all around my room, had seen all of his videos several times and repeatedly practiced the "Beat It" dance moves in my backyard though never learned them, I knew almost nothing about Jackson the man. I had never heard his speaking voice. I had never listened to his previous solo record Off the Wall, and was only remotely aware of his career as a child star because a new group called New Edition was being touted as "the next Jackson Five." In fact, I knew almost nothing about him other than his image from his videos and megahit album. He wore sequined jackets. He sang and danced better than anyone alive. And he was shy.
Being shy myself, I became desperately infatuated with Jackson. I deeply coveted his zipper jacket from the Beat It video, which a lot of the boys in school were wearing. However, because it cost forty bucks, my parents were initially reluctant to buy it for me. Unfortunately, by the time they finally broke down and got me one, it had gone out of style. I wore it exactly twice. The second time, I was in a store and I saw two kids pointing at me and snickering, "Look, he's wearing the Michael Jackson jacket."
I dreamed of meeting Jackson, perhaps by writing him an eloquent fan letter that would so move him, that he would invite me to his ranch at Neverland to become his best friend. We'd watch movies together, go on rides, play with the animals in his zoo, have sleepovers. He'd dedicate a song to me. He would love me. I even wrote an unfinished story about our adventures called "Me and Michael," that I felt sure would get his attention.
Thankfully my fantasy never came true, as it did for other young playmates of a troubled grown man who'd formed a profoundly unhealthy attachment to childhood. Though never found guilty in a court of law of his actions, Jackson horribly betrayed the trust of these boys who looked to their idol for friendship and comfort. For this reason, much as I appreciate his music and career achievements, I cannot cry for the man who died yesterday or feel sad that he's gone. Furthermore, I find it nauseating that so many people, in their rush to participate in the orgy of celebrity glorification that defines our culture, are eager to whitewash this man's loathsome legacy. I wonder if these same people might also shed tears for the deaths of their local child molesters who aren't famous and don't have Grammys and gold albums to distract from their unsavory acts.
posted by aaron hamburger at 11:34 AM
| 2
comments 
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
How Do You Write a Novel?
Gee, I wish I knew, so I could sell my advice in bottles. Still, in an attempt to answer that question, I'm going to be teaching a workshop addressing novel-writing at the Stonecoast MFA program next month.
The idea behind the class is that the traditional workshop, while good for getting at what's wrong with a story or an individual novel chapter, is not ideally suited toward fixing what can go wrong with a project that spans two to three hundred pages. A workshop can't usually handle manuscripts that are more than twenty pages. Consequently, workshopping novel excerpts tends to lead to somewhat frustrating conversations that usually involve the author chiming in, "Well, if you'd read Chapter Five, you'd know that..."
To get around this dilemma, I've asked the students to provide what I'm calling "samples" rather than excerpts from their work. The idea is to get a sense of the whole from a part, rather than examine the scenes at hand as if they were stand-alone pieces. I've also asked students to provide a description of their projects, an outline of the major plot developments organized under the rubrics of "Beginning," "Middle," and "End," and a list of their major questions. Finally, I've asked the students to read two short novels and think about how they're structured.
When we meet next month, my plan is to work with exercises that get students to thinking about their books as a whole, rather than a series of scenes. The course will be divided into four themed days, in which discussion of student work will be interspersed with exercises on Plot, Character, Line-Editing & Setting, and finally, Getting Your Work Out into the World. I'm also hoping that as we go along, students will give me ideas for teaching tools that suit the longer form of the novel rather than a story or a scene.
I'm excited about this new venture, which I hope may eventually provide a useful model for the future...
posted by aaron hamburger at 5:38 PM
| 0
comments
Wednesday, June 03, 2009
Kindling
A few years ago, when I met people and told them I was a writer, the first question they asked me was, "What have you written?"
Today, their face lights up with a big smile, and they say, "Oh, have you tried the new Kindle?"
The answer I say out loud is no. The answer I'm thinking is, completely not interested.
Somehow I have a feeling that the electronic revolution we've been promised in the book industry may be more of a whimper than a roar. It's not like digital music, where an iPod or digital music player improves upon the existing technology. Remember the days of carrying around a portable CD player? (Let alone a walkman!)
Books, by contrast, are a technology that's already been perfected. They never skip between tracks or run out of battery power. They're easy to carry (at least paperbacks are), the right size and shape to hold in your hand, affordable. If you lose one, you can easily buy another. The only advantage I can see to replacing an actual book with a Kindle is that the Kindle can hold many books at one time, replacing an entire library.
I suppose carrying a library with you everywhere you go is a useful thing when you're going about your day and you're struck by a sudden urge to check a passage in Howards End, and another from Ulysses, and another from Pride and Prejudice. Or maybe you're a voracious reader who likes to make sure to have a back-up book at the ready just in case you finish the one you're reading.
But I never find myself in these situations. If I want a book, I'm perfectly happy to stroll to my neighborhood bookstore and buy it or order it and wait for it to come later. I have time. I can wait. Reading is an activity that cultivates patience and quiet reflection. It is not like the quick fix of ordering a song on iTunes. In fact, reading a book is the perfect antidote to the extremes of our Internet-driven age, when we buzz about like electrons with our websites and text messages and all the rest.
For those of you who want or own a Kindle, God bless you. But as for me, I don't want to replace my library with a screen. The books on my shelves are beautiful. They are covered in thumbprints, scrawled notes, food stains. The pages are dogeared, the covers wrinkled. They sit above my desk and wait for me. And when I have a few moments, I choose one, sit in a quiet corner, open the covers, and begin to read.
posted by aaron hamburger at 2:07 PM
| 2
comments
