The Art of Storytelling

Creating Value: Raising Expectations...

When Hard Work Alone Just Isn't Enough

One of the things I've become acutely aware of, as a writer, is that most of my work is never seen.  And in a way, that's how it should be; after all, as far as potential agents and editors are concerned, the miniature golf course that I've constructed out of notes and previous drafts is irrelevant.

Product is what they're interested in; not process.

Can you imagine what the publishing industry would look like if it was the other way around?  If all you needed was an idea, and maybe some paper (preferably notated, to demonstrate effort)?

"Well sir, I'd wager those 3,000 pages you've written over the past two years are worth, oh, I dunno, 60K plus royalties,give or take?  Oh, and we'll want the movie rights, too."

Of course, we live in a meritocracy, where reward (to borrow from Wikipedia) is supposed match demonstrated talent and ability.  The problem is, what counts as evidence?  Should hard work, for example, even be taken into consideration?

Congress would like us to think so, as would most students. 

"I serve the people night and day," is a popular refrain.  Then again, so is "I spent all week on this."

And though the effort implied by both statements may be noteworthy, it's not necessarily indicative of quality.

Product; not process.

That's the mantra I had to repeat daily, while grading essays. 

I still do it, even now.  Just as a reminder. 

And when I look at my notes and think that they should all count for something, or see politicians on the TV and hear them complaining about how the stimulus package didn't turn out the way they wanted, I think of another saying, one that's quite fitting for our society:

"Make it Work."

Creating Value: The Weight of Words...

And the Burden of their Use

If you think about it, a promise is an odd thing: essentially, it's a guarantee, in words, that we make to other people.  The value of a promise--it's weight, in a sense--is based almost entirely on trust, which is, in and of itself, intangible.

Yet the burdens put upon the promise-maker are often terribly real: the time, the money, the commitment--all must be measured against the risk of failure.  That's why we don't make promises that we can't keep. 

But what happens when the promise is great, and the weight more than one person alone can bear?

Do you simply ask others to share in the burden?

No.  You challenge them.  You say:

Serve, or do not. 

And let future generations judge you accordingly.

Building Character: Regifting Rosenblat...

Dear Everyone:

Below are a list of corrections I would like to make regarding a series of events, starting with...

OPENING SCENE:

MAN sees WOMAN.  Woman sees man.  There's a fence between.  She reaches through, hands him an apple.  The sign above should read EDEN but instead says BUCHENWALD or AUSCHWITZ. The place doesn't matter.  Names are interchangeable.  So are people.

Besides, "we can always revise the screenplay to reflect recent revelations," the producer says.

He forgets to mention facts.

CUT TO:

ROSENBLAT, 79, and WIFE, authors, originators of the story-tale-myth-legend Angel at the Fence.  Sitting on a sofa, smiling, complacent.

ROSENBLAT:

                           I just wanted to make people happy,
                           What's so wrong with that?

(Author's note: Last part added for dramatic purposes only).

WIFE:

                          (Smiling, nodding) My husband is a
                          good man, we never wanted to hurt
                          anybody.

In the window behind Rosenblat and Wife stands Rosenblat's SISTER-IN-LAW (they're all characters in his life). She's holding a sign: KOOK,THIEF, LIAR with an arrow pointing to him.  There's a casket beside her.

(Author's note: if, only for dramatic emphasis, you choose to have Rosenblat's BROTHER rise from said casket and castigate him, I will not stop you--though I will again stress, through subsequent Oprah interviews, if necessary, that this most emphatically did NOT happen).

Sincerely,

The Truth

Creating Value: Unfair Use...

My Nominee for the Gitmo Playlist

In a rather fascinating effort to prove that theft is only a crime if you're not the government, U.S. military authorities invoked the Bible as a defense for their use of musicians' work to torture Guantanamo Bay prisoners.  While some of the musicians, including Stevie Benton of Drowning Pool, whose "Bodies" is no. 6 on the Gitmo Playlist, are pleased to see their songs used as a means of preventing terrorists attacks, others, including Christopher Cerf (who wrote for Sesame Street), are horrified that their work is being appropriated for uses far beyond their intended purpose. 

Of course, some selections are debatable in that respect: hearing "I Love You," aka the Barney Theme, on infinite loop is probably enough to send any sane adult into paroxysms of head-banging. 

The real issue, though, centers not only on who owns the music, but who controls how it is used.  Had the U.S. Government gone through the appropriate channels and purchased the necessary licenses, it would stand to reason that as a viable consumer, the government could do with the music as it pleased.  Instead, military interrogators acted of their own accord and once again proved that their ingenuity is not limited to the realm of the purely legal.

Which leads me to wonder: can our government expropriate our creativity?  And if so, does that constitute fair use--a notion so sacred that our government enshrined it in US copyright law?

Creating Value: Determined Minds...

A Boulder, CO company called Altas Sports Genetics now offers a DNA test designed to predict a child's athletic capabilities. The test relies on three expressions, or genotypes, of the ACTN3 gene, to determine whether children are more likely to be power, endurance, or regular athletes.  As one parent put it, being able to know her son's aptitudes would enable her to make more effective decisions in regards to his extracurricular activities.  She evens cites his difficulties with taking direction during an indoor soccer game, proclaiming that it's frustrating to see him struggle.

Then again, her son Noah, is two.  His age and temperament, not to mention the social dynamics of his team, the demeanor of his coach, or the increasing competitiveness of youth sports in general, are just as likely to influence his behavior. But think of how much easier it would be, as a parent, as a teacher, even as a society, if we knew just a little bit more about ourselves. 

Lets face it, we need facts.  When Noah's mother contemplates her son's future, she's not just compiling data, she's constructing a story, a life plan.  She's projecting what he will become, how he will get there, and all that will follow.  In and of itself, this process is not unusual: children are forever fighting or embracing parents' expectations.  We tell ourselves it's a matter of potential, of self-actualization, of tradition.

But is the "be all you can be" mentality truly a product of human nature, or is it an artifact of a certain culture in a particular time and place?  In a sense, is there a larger story, a societal one, that we engage in by devising and implementing such genetic tests?  And if there is, do we construct that narrative, or is it given to us?