harry potter and HERmione's journey.

Lands, Internet. NOW the blinking Blogger emoji cats have taken on a Halloween theme. Every time I log on here, I have to click an X to get rid of them. This is completely effing with my lazy-ass 1st world snobbery of convenience. I'm sick of clicking the X. Sick of it, Blogger! And Gmail, you too! This is 21st century techno-world! I should be able to will away the emojis with just a blink of my eye. Make it happen, Google.

Let's talk writing, shall we?

First, can we talk about Harry Potter? Because over the summer, I finally read the first book in the series (one decade behind, how I like to do most everything). What a stupendously talented writer this lovely soul named J.K. Rowling is. What I loved most about her initial Potter book (Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone aka: the only one I've read) was that she can take a very simple sentence or two and pack a whole lot into it--wisdom, back story, foreshadowing, character development, tidbits of story arc, etc and so forth, and she does this on a 10-12 year old's level but in such a way a grown up reading it can go: Wow, this is masterful writing. That's a gift. That's amazing. She's amazing. I admire so deeply writers with the ability to do this, because I strive for it. I don't know if you've noticed yet or not, but conciseness is not my forte. 

Other things I love about Jo Rowling: this is a woman who thought up a story on a train ride, an inspiring story that would eventually spark mystic connections amongst people of all different ages and cultures and languages all across this hard-to-live-on planet. Then she sat in a coffee shop in Scotland and developed an intricate, finely detailed, nuanced world of infinite possibilities, all while struggling with poverty, raising a child alone, and enduring god knows how many Dark Nights of the Soul. She and her magical story were rejected multiple times but she persevered boldly forth, and at the end of this journey her rags have become riches and she is now one of Earth's most adored storyteller heroines who gives back to those still in rags because she's been there and knows. Her biography is a Hero's Journey of sorts and she's a good, writerly egg who followed her bliss, trusted open doors, and who's become an incredibly inspiring icon for people from every culture on this celestial rock in the Milky Way Galaxy, even to those who haven't (yet) been mystified and spellbound by her tales of Harry and his Hogwarts gang.

True confession: I cannot get into these books. I want to get into these books. I want to, because I see how they've affected people from all over. The writing is stunning. The movies are gorgeous. The mania surrounding it all is enthralling to behold. But I just don't...I don't feel it. (Here, I am ducking, and praying the Potterites are far calmer than the Directioners, who--should you suggest you feel even a tiny bit of disconnection to the band One Direction--will fling large chunks of steaming piles of cow dung at you while screeching obscenities as they detail how they will haunt your dreams and will also promise to murder you in front of your father as they finish up with a slew of really inappropriate Yo Mama insults.)

.......I know. I KNOW!! Potter Friends! I am Sacrilege!! I am not fit to be a human being, it is true. I own it, and I am sorry, People of Potterdom. I am so so sorry. I am not saying I won't keep trying--I will keep trying. These are important books, literary foundations for many a childhood, all around the world. I will read all of the Harry Potter books eventually and at some point in the series, something may click and I'll end up buying all the DVD movie versions too and will become completely, utterly, nerdily obsessed. I see these Potter Obsessives on Twitter now and then, and they make me feel like an outsider. And you guys! I HATE FEELING LIKE AN OUTSIDER. (I have a story about when I think this phobia developed, but it's too long for now. Remind me, and I'll tell it to you later.) 

I'm a nerd, too! I am a nerd, just like you! my soul cries out, when I see their Potter obsessings. But I don't speak their Potter language; I don't understand the connections between the characters or why. One day on Twitter a few weeks ago, Tom Felton (Draco Malfoy) tweeted to Jason Isaacs (Lucius Malfoy) something about a Maison Blanc and asked him what he was ordering and holy House of Slytherin, I thought that corner of Twitter was going to explode. I mean, people were tweeting about how they were sobbing with joy about this exchange, their whole lives had been altered.

And I was all: what's Maison Blanc?! Who cares what Draco's father's going to order? And why is Jason/Lucius telling Tom/Draco he's worried about having an aneurism and calling him an arse for this? There's a Maison Blanc/evil dad & son connection, apparently, but I don't know? So I googled "Maison Blanc" and "Harry Potter" and "The Malfoys" but all I got were weird links to French articles about someone inhumanely dressing up Bo, the White House dog as Santa Claus. (What?!) It remains a mystery to me, still. I'm sure I could Sherlock Holmes it away, but I have other projects going on right now and...I'm just, it's just. I'm sorry Tom, Jason, and all the other Potter geeks of the world: I've just got other stuff to do and the Bo as Christmas Dog links are too overwhelming to wade through.

But dagnabit! I feel so left out! Lost! So alone! You know what this feels like? This feels just like when I first swallowed my Internet shyness and left Jason Isaacs a tweet and at the end told him to get Dobby the house elf a pair of socks (because a friend told me to say that to him, promising me Jason would laugh and laugh at that) and then I found out that Dobby was freed from The Malfoys with a sock and I was all: Oh. Well, that was damn cheeky. Because I bet Jason Isaacs probably has had to wade through sock jokes about a billion times every week for the last several years. Note to self: no more Twitter advice from Potterheads. That happened because I'm out of the loop. And you guys! I hate being out of the loop! I'd like to be amongst other geeks and connect. I like to high five and geek fist bump the other nerds and know: nobody gets us like WE get us.

But. Yet. I am not connecting (for now) to Harry Potter. 

May I explain myself? Because I've figured out why I'm having--have always had--a hard time connecting to Harry Potter. I get the mania to Harry Potter; but I don't connect to him. Please don't be offended; stay with me for a minute:

Joseph Campbell's theory of the monomyth. I wrote about this right after I was at Oprah's amazeballs Life You Want weekend and heard my writing hero Liz Gilbert speak of it. So I researched it. Joseph Campbell was a mythologist, lecturer, and writer. He was fascinated by religion and spirituality. He believed in the psychic unity of mankind. You know that quote "Follow your bliss"? That was Joseph Campbell. He followed that up with the assertion that, when you do choose to follow your bliss, extraordinary doors of astounding opportunities will supernaturally open for you.

Joseph Campbell did years and years and years of research and study, and he was able to precisely pinpoint one common, universal theme amongst all human beings everywhere, regardless of language or culture or planetary location: we all tell myths. But even more important than that, we all tell one myth. We tell this myth in many different versions, in many different languages, with many different cultural elements. But the myths all have basically the same story arc with basically the same story components and because of this, Joseph Campbell decided to call this common, very human, myth The Hero's Journey. 

Note. One problem with Joseph (and why I think I have a hard time connecting to Harry Potter): He (Joseph, not Harry) only believed in the psychic unity of MANkind and his myth was always the HERO's Journey. WOMANkind belonged in the kitchen, with a baby sucking on her boobs, and so ha ha silly girls! There can be no such thing as a HEROINE's Journey. Since women are too busy cooking and birthin' babies and such. Somewhere, Rush Limbaugh is reading Joseph's Man Snob attitudes about women, and Rush Limbaugh is nodding his head so emphatically right now, in a self-medicated fog of OxyContin painkillers, and he is hallucinate-high fiving Joseph Campbell so hard, so very very hard. (O! Chauvinism! Thou dost maketh homo sapiens such ugly bedfellows!) 

Here's a brief explanation of how The Hero's Journey works: there's a hero (aka: a boy ). 

He's living a very ordinary, normal life in the village or kingdom or cave or wherever, and then one day he meets some sort of helper who gives him a Call to Adventure. He suddenly realizes: I have to go on a journey. And so he sets off. Along the way, he has more helpers like supernatural aid(s) and guardian(s) of some sort, and he has many adventures both good and bad. The hero does good deeds and foils temptations, and along the way he meets friends who are enemies and enemies who are friends. Usually, the hero is on a journey to defeat something--a troll, a dragon, a demon, a witch; or to rescue something--a princess, a chalice, someone trapped in a curse. At some point, invariably, he reaches an abyss, a dark moment in which all may be lost. Campbell called this moment The Dark Night of the Soul, the part of The Hero's Journey that, if the hero stops, he will die and the journey will end and Good will lose.

It's in this moment, in the Dark Night of the Soul, the hero realizes: I have to change. In some way big or small, in all of the stories from every single one of our expansive, extremely diverse planet's cultures and legends and languages and values, the hero realizes to go on he needs to make some kind of transformation. And when he transforms, he defeats his obstacles, overcomes all of his temptations, and he emerges better, stronger than before, and his transgressions and wrongdoings are completely absolved. Numerous doors of tremendous possibilities are opened for him, and he is given magical gifts to take home with him where he is received by his village (or kingdom or cave or wherever) with acclaim and adoration and stories are told of him for years and years and years the end. 

Harry Potter is one really good example of how to expertly weave The Hero's Journey into a story: there's a boy. He's living his life, and one day he wakes up and meets a Helper (in this case, three: Dumbledore & McGonagall & Hagrid) who gives him a Call to Adventure (come be a wizard at Hogwarts). He realizes: I have to go on a journey and sets off. Along the way, he has many adventures: supernatural aids, guardians, and adventures both good and bad. He does good deeds and foils temptations, and meets friends who are enemies (Professor Quirrell), enemies who are friends (Professor Snape). At some point, he reaches The Dark Night of the Soul and by the end of the series Harry is transformed. He changes from a scared, awkward, weak boy into a brave, adored hero, and tales are told of him forever more (and, if you follow JK Rowling like I do on Twitter, you see hugely important these tales are to many people from different countries and cultures out there...some of whom maaaaay need to get a little bit of a life when it comes to this stuff, but god bless them it seems they've found their bliss and I think that's just perfect. Power to the Potterheads).

The stories of Harry Potter are transfigurative tales of a boy's journey from small and weak to large and brave--if I were a ten year old boy, I'd be all OVER these books. But this is precisely why (I've figured out) I've had a hard time getting into Harry Potter books/movies/etc: He's a boy. He's a HEro, not a HERo. 

A self-aware thing about me I've learned to proudly embrace over the years: I am drawn to stories about girls. Specifically, I am drawn to stories that feature strong, imaginative, self-reliant girls. Whether it's fiction or non-fiction, I connect to stories about females who transform or impact the world in important ways. I have always been like this; I cannot think of a time when I was not like this. I have been, am, and always will be drawn to stories featuring strong females. As a child, I wanted to journey in Dorothy's ruby Oz shoes. I loved smart and sleuth-y Nancy Drew mysteries, and Laura Ingalls Wilder's tomboy boldness. I completely identified with Alice in Wonderland and would have followed her down many dark, adventurous rabbit holes; and I was certain, as a young girl, that Peter Pan's Wendy wasn't some trembling damsel in distress who needed constant rescuing--I sense she could lop off Hook's other hand while blindfolded. 

In fact, for my high school senior year AP English class, I had to choose two books from the same genre or with a similar theme to read and compare--I wanted to read DOCTOR ZHIVAGO and GONE WITH THE WIND because they seem to tell similar sort of stories, but was told GONE WITH THE WIND was too soap opera-y. So I read ZHIVAGO and FATHERS AND SONS. My paper was titled "Strong Women in Russian Literature," and I got an A because I know how to word-work an Emily Dickinson-like English teacher. Nerds Unite. (In spite of the fact that, essentially, I really had just been trying to weasel out of actually reading so I could watch the movie versions of the books instead. Shhhhh.) 

Listen: I love boys. I love boys a lot. And there is a very crucial literary niche that boys need--boys need books and stories and Hero's Journey tales about boys and things boys like so they can discover a love of words and storytelling. It can be so hard to get boys to fall in love with reading, for some strange reason (I actually know why, but this will turn into a 200 page essay if I tell you--Google it). How many boys are voracious readers today thanks to Harry P.? This is good. This is important. 

Yet it bothers me that I find so much of the world still so dominated by the masculine. I mean, Joanne Rowling was asked by her publishers to change her author name to J.K. instead of even just "Jo," out of fear boys would be reluctant to read a boy adventure story written by a female. (This is all kinds of fucked up, but I'm already 10,000 words in and I know you have things to do, so I'm letting it go for now.)

And, god bless this amazing writer, she conjured into life the magnificent, empowering character of Hermione. Oh, how I love Hermione in spite of not having read all the books. And oh, how I love Emma Watson, who appears to have absorbed the very essence of Hermione and become such a stunning, impressive, courageous role model for women and young girls of Planet Earth. Oh, how I wish JK Rowling would write an entire series about Hermione and her Hero's Journey. In a way, Hermione also has a Hero's Journey threaded throughout the Harry Potter tales, and because I haven't read all of the Harry Potter books, maybe there is a book in the series where Hermione's journey is predominantly featured. But I sense the series is pretty much about Harry and his journey. 

These books are magnificent. The movie versions of them are sheer magic, which is a nearly impossible feat for Hollywood/movie makers. I think Somebody Somewhere loves these stories, too. Something special is going on there, some type of...wizardry? I dare say. And I think the reason so many worldwide connect so deeply to the story of Harry, Hermione, Ron, and all the rest of the Hogwarts' gang is because this is the quintessential Hero's Journey tale, which every human from every culture has ingrained in our very beings; it seems to be our instinct, as a species, to take journeys of daring adventures and weave magical tales from them. 

I also think that stories most kids (and grown ups) tend to feel the most for are dark, with notes of extreme danger. The Hero's Journey tales and stories that pull from that theme all have that darkness, that sense of danger. At our core, we know we are essentially powerless against The Forces That Be, and I think there is nothing scarier in the world than to be a child facing The Forces That Be--those unseen and, sometimes, those that live in your house or go to school with you. 

But there are, in existence, other stories that have pulled from The Hero's Journey, and these are stories that DO feature girls taking a brave adventure with moments of peril and darkness. What about Wizard of Oz? I will posit that Wizard of Oz is a Hero's Journey of magnificent proportions: a girl wakes up one day and realizes with the aid of a helper (Glinda), I've got to go on a journey. She has adventures both good and bad. Along the way, she fights temptations, is given supernatural aids (ruby--silver in the book--slippers, a protective kiss) and guardians (Scarecrow, Lion, and Tinman) to guide her. She meets friends who are enemies (Oz), enemies who are friends (Oz) (what? I say making Oz both Great and Powerful and a lowly little humbug to be a brilliant turn of the century story twist of M. Night Shyamalan-like proportions), and has a Dark Night of the Soul moment when all is lost (the balloon leaves without her) and she has to transform (realize the power to have what she wants was always in her possession) and she goes home. And the flip side of Dorothy's tale, WICKED, is witch Elphaba's perfect Hero's Journey tale.

And what about Disney's sole feminist heroine Merida? Or Katniss Everdeen from The Hunger Games? What about the journey of Morgaine in Marion Zimmer Bradley's superb The Mists of Avalon? Or Margaret George's Mary Magdalene? May I also suggest the story of Greek goddess Athena could be considered a sort of loose version of The Heroine's Journey as well?

In other words: Joseph Campbell! You misogynist old flirt, you couldn't have been more wrong about the Hermiones of the world. Girls can take journeys, in fact girls should take journeys, and they can do it even while mankind is suckling at their breasts. And you know what? They'll do it and you'll never hear them utter a single complaint or moan about their chapped nipples along the way--I know men who act like the world's about to end when they have a tummy ache and stuffy nose. Because women are strong, and Nature inclines toward the feminine. I'm actually not making that up; Google it.

Did I have a point to this post? I think I did, and I think it was somewhere in my last paragraph: girls can take journeys, women are strong, and Harry Potter is a wonderful book series with a great, iconic female character in it written by a strong woman who (goddammit) was asked to her put her initials on the book cover instead of her full name because they were worried boys wouldn't be comfortable reading a book by a woman (seriously? WTF, publishers). And dammit, my chapped nipples want stories that take strong, iconic females on Hero's Journeys! And Mother Nature does, too.

I'm going to start one of those this weekend. (A heroine's journey tale, with a girl I'd like to know, on an adventure I'd like to have.) (I hope the guardians of my heroine open up doors painted blue for her, and that at least one of them strongly resembles Joe Manganiello without a shirt on.) (Okay. Okay. I'm sorry. I apologize for that last bit, men--that was completely and revoltingly sexist of me. Joseph Campbell is somewhere right now, flipping me the bird and telling me to get my ass back in the kitchen. But I will not. I will NOT!)

book porn.

Interviewing one's self seems weird. Because I'm weird, I'm going to do it. Plus, at this very moment I'm supposed to be organizing my classroom library. Mentally and emotionally, I'm having a hard time dragging myself into my classroom, much less its huge mess of a little library. So instead, I'm going to rip off an Entertainment Weekly interview I read recently with my favorite writer and all-around awesome human being Elizabeth Gilbert. I'm going to pretend I work for Entertainment Weekly, and that Entertainment Weekly is actually interested in my responses. Then I'm going to respond to my own Entertainment Weekly queries. Which is totally not weird at all (in the world of blogging.)

MY FAVORITE CHILDHOOD BOOKS

The Wonderful Wizard of Oz. As a child, I was obsessed (obsessed!) with both book and movie version. I would spend hours reading the books in the series (the first being my most beloved of all), hours re-enacting the movie in my room, and just generally loved (still do, quite frankly) the entire idea of a land that exists somewhere over the rainbow, where animals talk and there are good and bad witches and sparkly red shoes will take you any place if you just click them three times and wish very hard. If only real life worked like this.

In a related note, I was also a huge fan of all the Laura Ingalls Wilder books. And the tv show. And often pretended to be a pioneer girl on the prairie. In a little house.

THE BOOK I MOST ENJOYED IN SCHOOL

The Great Gatsby. Because it was like a soap opera, only classic literature. School opened up literature for me--I feel well-read today because of it. I'd be introduced to a great book (like The Great Gatsby), which would open up my curiosity for more, which would prompt me to go find other books by the same author or genre. I spent a good deal of time my 10th grade year reading a lot of early 20th century literature because of you, F. Scott Fitzgerald. I also learned to worship Dorothy Parker. So there you go.

A BOOK I READ IN SECRET

As a teenager, I used to often sneak/slink off with a book my mom had. I've google searched for it, but I can't remember/find the title. Anyway, it was written in the 1960s by a mysterious woman calling herself "J." It was about sex techniques and ways to practice them without having sex. To this day, I cannot eat soft serve ice cream cones without feeling like I'm committing and/or practicing the act of fellatio in public. Thanks, "J." 

THE BOOKS I'VE READ OVER AND OVER

Plan B: Further Thoughts on Faith by Anne Lamott. Eat Pray Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. They're my bibles. My go-to, what-the-hell-should-I-do-now??, go-to bibles. Prescriptions for life, I'd call these books.

A BOOK I'VE PRETENDED TO READ

The summer before my senior year in high school, we were given a reading list and, for each book, had to come up to school to take (and pass, with at least 8 out of 10 questions correct) a brief quiz--just on plot points, to prove you read the book.

The books I remember from the list were: Cry the Beloved Country by Alan Paton (loved it), Tess of the d'Urbervilles by Thomas Hardy (loved), J.B. by Archibald MacLeish (I read this play 20 times, in an effort to figure out what the hell it was about, yet passed the quiz with an 8 out of 10 nonetheless), and King Lear. 

That's right--King frickin' Lear. By yourself. As a 17 year old ridiculous person who just wanted to hang out with friends and swim for two months. The theory was: we were going to read Hamlet that school year, and somehow the weird play J.B. and King Lear connected to Hamlet and somehow reading these first would help us when we read Hamlet. Did they? No. Do 17 year olds care about connections? To be or not to be. Nobody cares in July when they're 17. Even Hamlet knew that.

So I saved King Lear for last, knowing he'd be a doozy. I, Scout's honor, read all the other books and got a good, solid, honest 8 out of 10 correct on each of their quizzes. Not bad for a 17 year old who just wants to sleep in late and work on her tan.

Then I began King Lear. By page 5 I was in tears--no way could I read this play and every three seconds have to look down at the footnotes to figure out what was being said. Just. Speak. English, Shakespeare. I'm a 17 year old American girl who seriously doesn't care about your stupid horse.

So I went and got the Cliff Notes (which I believe are now called Spark Notes?). I read the Spark/Cliff Notes to King Lear. I took the 10 question plot quiz about King Lear. ....And got a 10 out of 10 on that quiz. Ten out of ten. Via Cliff Notes. I spent weeks really concentrating on the other books and couldn't even get 9 out of 10 right. I spent 3 hours on King Lear's Cliff Notes and got a perfect score.

There's a life lesson in that somewhere, but I feel it involves cheating and so I don't want to celebrate it too much. But here's a lesson from your Aunt Amy, kids: if they ever make you read Shakespeare alone, using the Spark Notes version is perfectly acceptable. Nobody gets hurt. And you'll get a perfect score on the quiz, with time to spare for the pool.

A BOOK THAT'S HIGHLY OVERRATED

The Da Vinci Code by Dan Brown. Good god, it's so horribly written. I think about all the wonderful books out there, all the books that could have and should have been made into movies by Ron Howard starring Tom Hanks that year, and I just want to weep that they picked this one. Please know: I love the concept behind it--I read it when it was first published because I was so fascinated by the ideas and the intrigue behind the story. I think Dan Brown did a really amazing job at some careful, extensive research.

But by page 40 of the book, I realized: oh god, this goes on for 556 more pages. Dear Dan Brown: they have things called thesauruses. And editors. These two tools are GOOD things for writers. And character development is always a good idea. And in real life nobody talks like these characters, Dan. And why are you re-telling the whole story at the end? Just end it, dammit. Wrap it up. Sincerely, all the other writers. 

Actually, to be fair to Dan Brown, I think he'd make an excellent screenplay writer. As I was reading the book, I kept thinking: they're going to make this into a movie. And then they did. And I thought the movie worked a lot better than the book. Dan, look into that! I bet Ron Howard will help you.

THE BOOKS I WISH I'D WRITTEN

Anything by Barbara Kingsolver, Jhumpa Lahiri, Elizabeth Gilbert, all of Mary Oliver's poems, and all of Anne Lamott's essays on life. 

I also wish I'd written Cutting for Stone by Abraham Vergese--what a sweepingly told story. The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger--mind-blowing, heart-wrenching, and magical all at once. All of the books in Deb Harkness's A Discovery of Witches series--like Harry Potter and Twilight, but for grown up women. And she's a professor of history, so the scholarly research behind the stories is superb. 

The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane by Kate DiCamillo, The God of Animals by Aryn Kyle, and The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison--all of these books are stories containing huge, deep life truths buried in gorgeously constructed, simple yet stunningly powerful sentences that speak to all humans, and will for ages. 

THE NOVELS PEOPLE MAY BE SURPRISED TO LEARN I LOVE

I love the Outlander series by Diana Gabaldon. At first, you think: oh, this sounds so trashy. But then you start reading and realize: no! This is a story. A beautiful story full of tremendous alchemy. Set in Scotland, with a lot of men running around talking English with Scottish accents. And a lot of sex. Win win win! 

WHAT I'D READ IF I WERE RESTRICTED TO ONE GENRE FOR LIFE

Time travel romance. Specifically time travel romances set in the Revolutionary War era. I read a book called Out of Time by Deborah Truscott once, and it ignited my imagination. It's the book that led me to the Diana Gabaldon series. And made me wish I didn't love hot/cold running water so much, and indoor plumbing. And vaccines. And being a feminist. Because otherwise, I could so get into being a British soldier's wench in 1776. 

THE LAST BOOK THAT MADE LAUGH...AND THE LAST BOOK THAT MADE ME CRY

Bossypants by Tina Fey. I laughed so hard I cried. So I'm going to use that as my answer for both.

MY FAVORITE MOVIE VERSIONS OF BOOKS

Oh, so many! Sometimes, movie makers get it SO wrong. But sometimes, Hollywood really gets it right and when that happens, I think it underscores why people tell stories in all different formats. I think you have to start with a good script--if they can write the novel in script format and it's good, there's your foundation. Add a thoughtful director, some gorgeous cinematography, talented actors, a careful editor, producers who aren't total douchebags, backdrop it all with a mystical musical score that echoes through the soul, and ta da! Storytelling Magic. 

Some of the movies I think got it right:

The Wizard of Oz (it takes a lot of license with the book...but it sparked the sense of wonder and magic in children of all ages in 1939 and continues to mystify and delight people 75 years later, and so I think it's safe to say: this worked. Proof: I show it as contrast/compare to the book to 2nd graders each year, and they are always delighted--they've already seen it, are already in love with it, and can watch it over and over again)

Peter Pan (2003) (oh my god, what a beautiful movie--how this movie didn't blow up the box office and turn into a classic, I have no idea. Like The Wizard of Oz, they take some license, but it's just breathtakingly beautiful, and so it worked as well. Proof: I also show this as contrast/compare for the book each year, and they are just awed.)

Interview with a Vampire (it really just re-told the whole story in visual format, and did so in a hauntingly beautiful kind of way. Plus also: Brad Pitt. )

All the Harry Potter movies (I haven't technically seen all the Harry Potter movies, but I've seen bits and pieces of them and they are gorgeous things to behold.)

Dr. Zhivago (it makes me sad my mom didn't let my dad name me after the main character Lara. If I'd only known when I came out of the birth canal! I'd have argued for it. Also, I would like this movie's theme song to play whenever I walk into a room.)

The Godfather (This is the ONLY mafia movie I can watch over and over again and again. I actually think it's better than the book (please don't tell Mario Puzo I said that). Also, I would like this movie's theme song to play whenever I exit a room.)

WHAT I'M READING RIGHT NOW

I'm just finishing up The Signature of All Things by Elizabeth Gilbert (please read this--it's magnificent). Then I'm moving on to The Sandcastle Girls by Chris Bohjalian. And I still need to start 11/22 by Stephen King (it's been in my e-reader since October).

SOMETHING I'VE WRITTEN THAT MAKES ME CRINGE....SOMETHING I'VE WRITTEN THAT MAKES ME PROUD

This summer I sat down and re-read a lot of my old journals, from 1998-present. Man, the late 90's and early 2000's were rough years for me. And Amy 2007 was just a wreck of a human being. All of it made me cringe. And pretty much a lot of what I write here makes me cringe when I go back and re-read it months later. 

I'm probably most proud of THIS entry. I think it's a bit too wordy, and I may actually have two essays in one, but it's about someone precious who helped me become who I am, and so. That's my proudest. 

team movies vs. team books

I think I said not long ago I had an opinion about why so many people see a movie based on a book they loved and leave the theater going, "Meh, the book was better."

Here's why (and I am no expert; just a chick who digs stories, so take this with a grain of salt): When you read a book, you're in it like Gwynneth (before her conscious uncoupling). You're in the minds of your characters (who and how much depends on point of view the author chose), you've got foreshadowing, back story, lots and lots of descriptive narrative, etc and so forth. In addition, you're the movie maker:  you're casting the actors, coming up with the set design, you're the experienced camera guy who knows the perfect angles, and all that. All inside your own big brain. Your amazing, movie projector brain.

Not to mention you have the luxury of re-reading parts you didn't quite get, or just really loved, and the storyteller had a good 200+ pages to tell you the story. And you can make notes! (Not on an electronic reader--do it on paperback; far more scholastic.) And if that storyteller was a master weaver, she or he knew about good character development as they wove their tale, and was able to pull you right smack dab into a character's life, heart, and soul. Because everybody knows most stories have already been told one way or another over hundreds and hundreds of years, so what really causes us to fall in or out of love with a book (or a movie; any story, actually) isn't just good (or bad) writing, but also a writer's ability to create believable, wholly formed, really good protagonist(s) and antagonist(s). Everyone knows this, yes? Yes.

That's what makes you love a really good book. (Or maybe you actually prefer graphic novels. In which case, god love you. I don't understand. But there's a niche market for everyone, and god love you.)

The problem with translating a lot of books to movies is that you only have a finite amount of time to get in, get the story told, and get out of there. Two hours, tops. Maybe three if you somehow managed to con a major movie studio company out of 250 million bucks or something. Which means you probably also have contacts in the Mafia. (I'm not Hollywood, so I don't quite know how that works; I just know I read it Mario Puzo's THE GODFATHER and saw it in the movie version. But if it gets a movie made, I'm open to it.) (Wait! No no! What am I saying??? I watched The Sopranos. I saw THE GODFATHER parts 1-3. I know about family blood pacts and all that. So no, I'm NOT open to The Mafia! I only like The Mafia on TV or the movies. The TV Movie Mafia.) (I'm sorry. I'll get back on topic.)***

So you only have 2 hours to tell your tale. And what do you leave in? What do you cut out? (Assuming you're the writer, director, AND editor.) (Quite frankly, as an overworked teacher who does about 5 people's jobs August-May, I don't know why the heck you'd want to do all 3 jobs, but I suppose somebody's got to. Hopefully, Hollywood will pay you better and you'll get treated nicer by the US Dept of Education.)

I think the deciding what to put in/leave out would be the hardest part for me to do; what I really love about a book is often very different than what moved Friend A who also read it, and Friend B liked (or disliked) other things about it. A lot of times, Friends A & B and I all love the same part(s) of a book...and we are INCENSED beyond all human reason if what we loved all together gets left out. That's when you get on imdb.com and start leaving troll posts that make no sense, have poor grammar, and are spelled so ridiculously nobody even knows what the hell you're talking about but they do know you're mentally ill. (I don't troll imdb.com. My handle on imdb.com is amylynne223, and I promise I just stick to what I know: which is lurking so I can silently judge other people who do post stuff on imdb.com. The End.)

At any rate, that's also part of the beauty of reading a book--the connections you make in them.The things you love (or hate) best about characters and incidents in any given story are due to personal connections you make. In 2nd grade Reading Workshop, we call this text-to-text, text-to-world, or text-to-self connecting; you do that all the time when you read. Personally, I think it's what draws us to certain stories and repels us from others.

So basically: Time's a-ticking; what to cut? what to include?; you're IN the book when reading; you're in the THEATER when watching a movie...you're in the store while reading a book; you're window shopping at the movie. All of it equals hard to adapt books to movie. Not impossible, just really really hard. I think people who make movies who give you a sense of losing yourself while watching a movie (based on a beloved book) somehow manage to tap into those connections we have--they get you to the shop's threshold, and it is AMAZING. Like a Victoria's Secret sale where everything is 95% off. (No? Not a Victoria's Secret fan? Okay...like everything's 1 cent at the Dollar Tree.) (Heh. Teacher wet dreams.) You're a part of the action, even though you're sitting in a theater with a lot of fallen popcorn in your bra, maybe sitting on a melted Junior Mint, too (here's a cinematic tip: NEVER wear white to the movies, Things Amy Learned circa 1992). But you don't care! This is a  freaking beautifully woven story, on paper AND film. It's a testament to how amazing human beings can be when that happens.(And yet we continue to melt the polar ice caps. *sigh* yin. yang.)

I think the Harry Potter films mostly do an excellent job with this. I'm not a big Harry Potter fan, but I have friends who are obsessed (OBSESSED! In weird, are-you-okay?? kinds of ways), and they assure me movies based on  books don't get more magical than the Harry P. ones. I thought Interview With a Vampire also did a good job (in spite of Anne Rice's tirade against its casting of Tom Cruise in the lead role...and be honest: weren't you all, "Yeah, Anne! What the hell?!" right along with her? But then Tom did okay. And also, there was Brad Pitt. And Antonio Banderas (in a bad wig). It all came together and worked, somehow. High five, Neil Jordan! And Anne Rice, who adapted her own book to script...which may have contributed a lot to that.) (Later, someone adapted Rice's Queen of the Damned, which is a good example of how NOT to translate a book to a movie. I notice Anne didn't take out any full page rants in the NY Times over that...sometimes, you just take the check, get on a plane for Maldives, and pretend it isn't happening. Is what I'd do.)

Was this a boring blog post? I'm worried this was a boring blog post. I tried to make it as entertaining as possible, and apologies if you fell asleep or  you've already clicked over to tmz.com (stay off of that site! you'll rot  your mind!).

In more entertaining news, summer break is a mere 6 days away. Six! Days! Away! I have a lot of plans, because Miss M is headed off to theater camp, bug camp, princess/fairy tale camp, and (gigantic pause for cinematic effect) The Swim Nazi (do do do!). Yes, it is true. We found a Swim Nazi. Don't tell her people call her that. We do it behind her back. What she does is...well, first of all, you can't stay. You have to wait in her driveway in your car. She suggests blasting music and wearing headphones so you don't hear the screams. But apparently, by Day 3 (you go all week: Monday through Friday) they're over their fear of putting their heads underwater. It's worked for countless children, I'm told.

I have a good child psychologist number at hand, though, for in case. Just in case. (Does anybody know if children can get PTSD?) (I'm slightly nervous about this, I don't know if you can tell or not. But desperate times call for desperate measures and so. Let's hope kids can take Xanax or something.)


***Speaking of movie mafia...I'd think another difficulty in adapting a book to a movie would be the people holding the money bags. It seems to a lot about ROI (return on investment) these days in Movieville. Bookville, too. But especially Movieville. I like it when people just want to tell a good story. In PublicEducationville, it's also become a lot about ROI, and I can tell you the results are pretty sad. Some day, I'll write a blog post about what happens when ROI takes over the world and nobody cares about connecting anymore; they just want their damn money back times 10,000. (Hint: zombies are involved.)

march comes in like a lion...

Life's a-changing 'round these parts. That's all I can share for now.

A friend and I are working on a television series idea we think is simply brilliant. Others may not agree, but I guarantee none of these others would be teachers or people who love and understand teachers. Teachers world-wide will high five us until their hands bleed. It's not a series we could market to NBC, ABC, CBS, etc. But we could maybe start a YouTube channel. Or see if Netflix or Hulu might be interested.

And that's all I can say about it, or I'd have to kill you.

My writing course was extended to April due to the Polar Vortex. I submitted one personal essay that was eviscerated (eviscerated!). After I'd licked my wounds and re-read it harshly and with no sympathy, I saw what they were saying. Great God, it sucks to realize you aren't, after all, as brilliant as you thought when you were typing at 2 o'clock in the morning. But it's helpful and good to have someone tell you that.

I'm starting to realize/recognize I suck at titles. Currently, I'm working on a short story about a boy named Nathan who wants to commit suicide and then meets someone and changes his mind...I have no idea what to call it. Right now, it's titled "Leaving Neverland," simply because at one point, Nathan remembers a 4th grade teacher reading PETER PAN to the class and loving the part when Peter says "To die would be an awfully big adventure..." But that's not really the essence of the piece. Where is the essence of the piece? This is hard for me. Essence is elusive.

 I have one week left until Spring Break. After that, six weeks until Summer Break. I am starting back on my running regimen again (to balance my increasing wine intake), and I plan to be a veritable writing fool between June 2014 and July 2014. I say this going into every summer (about being a writing fool), but it's different when you have someone else depending on you), and so I'm determined.

I shall not be climbing any fences between now and August. FYI.

art of story

I'm taking a writing class called Art of Story. It's good; I love the people in my class. What I love most about people I meet in Writers' Circles and writing classes is the great diversity. Most writers are kind of eccentric to begin with; it's an introspective, solitary activity, and if you don't get out of the house or away from your computer, I think you spend way too much time in your own head. I don't know about you, but when I spend way too much time in my own head I typically end up in a fetal position in some corner, mourning my life and questioning everything. Every. Thing.

Anyway, from writers' groups and classes, I've met all kinds of people: Goth people with exactly 100 facial piercings and bodies covered in meaningful tattoos, quiet grandmas who like to write children's stories about reindeer, and some people who've never written a thing in their lives--they just got a notion in their heads that they've been called to write a novel. I've met other people who are the next Alice Munro (and I hate them) (no! I'm kidding--I just want to leech myself onto their brains and steal their magnificence).

Specifically, I've been asked not to write about my classmates on this blog, so I will not. However, I would like to throw out there into the ethos that I love them all. Eight of us went for drinks after class last week, and I sat and listened a lot and just absorbed their awesomeness and great senses of humor. I embrace their eccentricities and individual talents, and am supremely glad to know I share the planet with each one of them. I hope we find a way to keep in touch forever when it's over.

Our teacher (who says I can write about her, specifically), is chock full of knowledge about writing, good storytelling, and publishing. I love to listen to her talk; she's professorial and literary. I like people who use big words but in a way that anyone listening can use context clues and figure out what they're talking about. I think it's a talent.

Two weeks ago, our assignment was to go out in the world and eavesdrop on a conversation, then write a scene with a conflict and character development via action. I love this, and do it all the time. However, two weeks ago was a bad time for that. I ended up at a sports bar, which are notoriously bad places to eavesdrop on conversations. And coffee shops? Who the heck has time for those (except at 7:30 a.m. when your brain doesn't work)?

So I went to YouTube, found an interesting interview with one of my favorite actors and catapulted. It's not perfect--for one, I think it reads like a trashy beach novel, and I do not want to write those. Second, it has some character/story inconsistencies and one too many adverbs. I knew this going in, and sure enough, those are what they all pointed out. (Can I just say, though, that I think maybe adverbs are my writing style? Ernest Hemingway wrote really short sentences about fishing and bull fighting. William Faulkner wrote a lot of stream-of-consciousness and inner brain thoughts of characters. Amy Samson shall write with a lot of adverbs, and do so unapologetically.)

Anyway, this has been a good thing for me. It gets me out of the house, thinking about writing and proper storytelling, and gives me a lot of good assignments that keep me accountable, and keeping me accountable is probably the only thing that keeps me together. Were I not accountable to anyone, I feel quite sure I'd be a panhandler sleeping in a cardboard box right now. Or waiting tables at Hooters. One of those.

Our next challenge: to write a 500-700 word short story that includes character development via action, exposition, rising action, conflict, falling action, and resolution. And avoid adverbs and inconsistencies, which I will take a very good shot at. There's a lot to think about when creating story, and I like that. But it also hurts my brain and I have no idea where to start. The writing prompt (if we need it) is: pick an object in our house with a lot of meaning to us and either build the story around it or incorporate into the story. I can't think of a single object in my house with a lot of meaning to me (yes, seriously).

I am currently trying to come up with as many "What if...?" scenarios as humanly possible and go from there because I think all good stories ultimately begin with a "what if?" question that needs answering.

What if...I bought a plane ticket to Fiji tomorrow and didn't show up for work on Monday? (I actually know the answer to this question, and it's less than pleasant.) (See? Accountability.)

writerly confession in genre.

 Writerly Confession #1: I'm struggling to figure out what type of genre to write in. I think I want to write literary fiction; I like character development way more than plot. But when I grab Poets & Writers magazine from my mailbox each month and start flipping through it, I see names of people featured in articles as if I--a writer reading about other writers--should just naturally know who these obviously very important people are. And because I haven't heard their name ever, does that exclude me from the fancy writer people club? I sort of sense it does, or at the very least puts me off in a corner by myself at all the fancy writer people cocktail mixers.

Writerly confession #2: I dig romance writers. Not the romances they write--just the actual people who write them. I've never been on a romance writer's blog or website where I haven't thought: I'd totally go out to a lot of dinners and coffee dates and wine tastings with this chick.

The thought of writing beach read romance books really appeals to my bank account. It also appeals to inner 9th grade Amy who was totally addicted to Danielle Steele books, not even caring about all the run-on sentences and the over use of the word "and." I was in love with her formulaic plots with just the character names/physical features changed. Danielle Steele taught inner 9th grade Amy all the formulaic finer points and how to fix shallow romantic problems. Inner ninth grade Amy completely aspires to be the next Danielle Steele. I'm sure Danielle and inner ninth grade Amy would have great fun at lunch dates, shopping for Coach bags and other shallow things.

Writerly Confession #3: But I just don't think I could write convincingly about someone's superficial romantic issues or about someone's hot throbbing whatever and not feel I was somehow contributing to the delinquency of a society already on the fast path to a quick downward spiral. No, wait! I could, I totally could. But only if I wrote under a pseudonym. But if I wrote under a pseudonym, maybe me and my cool romance writer chicks wouldn't have friendly wine parties since they wouldn't know my true identity so they could call me up and invite me...and so then, what's the point? I'd have all this money in the bank but no co-workers to spend it on wine and pithy yucks with. AND I've furthered societal downward spirals. I think that's a literary equivalent of selling one's soul to the devil.

Writerly Confession # 4: I feel like I should be writing for children or young adults; that's where my expertise has pretty much been for the last 18 years or so. But I'm not sure I want to write for young adults. People around me say: go write the next Harry Potter series. But I'm not into Harry Potter things. In fact, I'm not into Harry Potter, Justin Bieber, Dungeons & Dragons, Comic Con, Selena Gomez, Nickelodeon shows, and whatever else motivates youngsters these days. I've moved on from those things, and when I interact with young people now, it's as an adult, not an equal and they need to do their homework and respect my authority and follow the rules because I said to, The END. I have a very real suspicion people who write for young adults don't think like this or write to kids like this, and that's why young adults love their books so much. I love kids and despite what I sound like I genuinely enjoy hanging out with them; it's just that I think 95% of their problems are ridiculous. I mean, they don't even pay taxes yet.

Writerly Confession #5: Women's Fiction. I am one. Wouldn't I know how to write to/about/for other women? But I just don't know if I could write women's fiction that wouldn't end up getting shelved with all the Romance Writer/Danielle Steele chick lit books. I just don't think my women's fiction writer skills are sharp enough quite yet.

Then there's Sci Fi, which--I like Science, and kind of consider myself to be a logical, Science-y kind of geek girl in spite of my real bend toward hippie spirituality and reluctance to let go of magical thinking. But (Writerly Confession #6): I'm just  disinterested in writing fiction about it (doesn't it feel like an oxymoron anyway? Science (fact) Fiction (not fact)?). And there's Horror, but I'm squeamish about blood and guts and I'm terrified of ghosts (though I have been known to hunt for them on occasion. It's true: I'm an odd dichotomy of a person).

Man, I'm really in a quandry here, friends. Am I over thinking this? I think I'm over thinking this. I bet I should just write and let other people tell me what genre I'm writing in.

Writerly Confession #7: Wait. Did I...I think I just found my genre! I will call it: The No Genre genre. Or the Let Other People Tell You Your Genre genre. Phew! Thanks for staying with me while I figured that out.

Writerly Confession #8: I really like typing and saying the word "genre." It feels fancy. And French. In fact, if I ever end up at any fancy writer cocktail mixers, I will pepper my talk with this word and the phrase "je ne sais quoi" a lot. (The other really swank French phrase I'm familiar with is voulez vous coucher avec moi ce soir, but I think you're only allowed to break that out with Aretha Franklin or people you're very close to and it's considered highly inappropriate at fancy cocktail mixers.)