Striders and Anglerfish

I used to be fascinated by water striders when I was little. How did they stay there on the surface gliding along? Why do some creatures stay on the surface and some go deep?



I went through a phase where I wanted to work for Jacques Cousteau . . . and so, yeah, those weird deep-sea creatures? What drew them to the bottom of the ocean? I wanted to study them.




Yesterday, the Monkey and I were discussing the movie Up in the Air, the one Clooney got an Oscar nod for. We both disliked the movie. In fact, the more I think about the movie, the more I dislike it. For me, the characters never became real, and for Lurker Monkey--and me--a key plot point was missing elements of authenticity. I didn't believe in the character for a moment, not as she was drawn. And it felt like "cool plot twist" but without any depth. Just a surface move. A strider.

I teach ESL class tomorrow. For me, I can't teach it and NOT get pulled down to the bottom of the ocean. The people I teach are powerless, voiceless, can't read and write. They are harassed by cops, treated poorly by many of the people they meet, they are unseen. They are spoken to condescendingly. They are abused by bosses, stolen from . . . because, at least in the one case, the boss knows his victim won't go to the police. I meet and love their children. I let them into my life and they let me into theirs. I suppose someone could go and teach the class and NOT think to ask if there is enough food in the house. You could stride your way through teaching. But I guess I'm not interested in a water-strider life. As ugly as it can be sometimes, I want the anglerfish life.

Thoughts? Were you disappointed by a movie or book that stayed a surface strider? And what was the last one that pulled you down deep?

Dark and Scary Places . . . and A CHAT!

First, my topic for the day. I didn't write The Roofer until I had finished and sold a romantic comedy (Spanish Disco). The Roofer was the second novel I ever wrote. It was also the darkest novel I've ever written. And even though I had sold Red Dress Ink two or three more books under contract (titled "Orloff #2 and Orloff #3 . . . i.e., I had no idea what they were going to be), and I assumed they wouldn't buy The Roofer (they actually didn't--MIRA books did), I had to write it--even with those comedy deadlines hanging over my head. But I think it was a book I had somewhat put off writing for a while--it was rolling around my head in some variation for a couple of years--because I was AFRAID . . . of how dark and scary it was. And I was afraid that if I went someplace that dark I wouldn't come back.

Right now, you can't turn on the news without hearing about the sad and untimely passing of Heath Ledger. Yesterday, Daniel Day-Lewis apparently "broke down" while taping Oprah's show about the Oscars, in sadness over Ledger. They had never met. But anyone who follows film (and I am an insane film buff) knows Day-Lewis is beyond Method acting. He disappears into roles, and has a hard time shaking them off. Probably the most acclaimed and reclusive actor of his generation, he is said to "lose himself" in roles, often going to a dark, dark place and even depression. As an artist, I think he related to Ledger--who supposedly, too, had a tough time shaking his demons especially while filming the new Batman and playing the Joker dark and schizophrenic. Of course, most of this is speculation.

However, when my mom and I were discussing it, I did say to her that it's sometimes something creative types don't talk about. You can go someplace dark, access a darker part of yourself and then find it lingering after you should return to your real life. After I finished The Roofer, I pulled the shades and didn't talk to anyone but my family and best friend for a solid two weeks. I didn't want to get out of bed. I just felt "stuck" where Tom was in that bed in the last few scenes. And part of me, creatively, knew I had just done something really good, so maybe I didn't want to quite shake him. In fact, he is, as some long-time blog readers know, my favorite character ever. I don't see him in the same light readers do. I see him as a Christ figure.

Anyway . . . there's a part of me that knows, really knows, get over it. There's enough horrible REAL stuff in the REAL world. So I don't talk about this much. Because I just don't stay in that dark and scary place for long. I don't indulge it. But I certainly know, a little, that the darkness is there if writers let it in sometimes. Maybe that is why I have intentionally written comedy for some balance. That and I am probably a repressed stand-up comic who hates talking to audiences and channels it, instead, into my writing. But I know dark. I do.

Thoughts? Do you sometimes worry about getting "into character" too deep? That it will pull you in and not let go?

AND . . . I'm aiming for a chat in real time on AIM (AOL Instant Messenger), Sunday 10:00 P.M. E.S.T. to discuss the week of writing for Mary's Challenge, and even if you didn't write a damn page for it, to chat about writing and life. Now . . . the always kind-to-me Ewoh, who takes pity on my technological challenges, has told me how to do it. You'll have to email me at erica@ericaorloff.com to tell me your screen name. AIM is a free download, so I hope you all can make it. I will send you back an invite to the room on Sunday night, 10:00 p.m. EST. Now, if I screw it up, take pity on me, but I think I'm going to be OK. Try to email me your screen name by Saturday night so I can confirm it's all a go.

And again . . . have you ever feared where your writing was taking you?