The Amateur Everything
I’m writing the first entry for a new Tumblr, this evening.
Well, in between studying science and watching “Spaced.”
Still, it’s kind of a step forward, within my blogging.
This one will still exist, and I frankly don’t think this stuff would work excellently within either Tumblr that I created, let alone the two that I am a moderator for (which I will start contributing to probably this weekend… zounds).
The Wall Street Journal: When you sell the rights to your books, do the contracts give you some oversight over the screenplay, or is it out of your hands?
Mr. McCarthy: No, you sell it and you go home and go to bed. You don’t embroil yourself in somebody else’s project.
WSJ: When you first went to the film set, how did it compare with how you saw “The Road” in your head?
CM: I guess my notion of what was going on in “The Road” did not include 60 to 80 people and a bunch of cameras. [Director] Dick Pearce and I made a film in North Carolina about 30 years ago and I thought, “This is just hell. Who would do this?” Instead, I get up and have a cup of coffee and wander around and read a little bit, sit down and type a few words and look out the window.
WSJ: But is there something compelling about the collaborative process compared to the solitary job of writing?
CM: Yes, it would compel you to avoid it at all costs.
Cormac McCarthy on The Road - WSJ.com (via cantoni)
I’m so terribly happy that McCarthy is exactly like I’d hope McCarthy would be.
(via monsterbeard)
Having both written a book & made a film (Okay, not, like, a feature film, but still, you know, moving pictures and all), I have to concur with my man Cormac here. Fiction writing, so much better than film production (though there’s no craft services for fiction writers).
(via thefeeling)
this is wonderful.
(via oldtobegin) It has taken me this long to be in something collaborative that manages to make me not 100% agree with McCarthy, but it doesn’t stop me from totally understanding the remarks from the rest of my experiences (and I am referring to less sporadic matters… I have plenty of sporadic collaborations that I have loved). If I were a writer, I’d rather not have food services… I would settle for someone chopping my ingredients and shopping for my groceries, because I would much prefer to cook for myself most of the time. Catering rarely gets various curries right without costing a goddamn fortune.It seemed appropriate, since, of the two tumblrfriends of mine that have recently posted about their beards, one runs a record label and the other has a house that doubles as a music venue. Though I’m not sure how either of you feel about folk music.
There is a clear problem with how “easy” the article’s focus was approached. I don’t get an impression that he really had done, whether before or more recently up to the article, his listening homework. I mean, ¿can some of my material be considered “folk”? Sure, but really only one of my projects toes that line to any remotely direct extent. There is almost no mention of noise or more experimental artists, here (and Wayne’s a nice fellow, but Flaming Lips is not the edge of sonic pioneering, a fact which works just fine for them, but evidences to me that this article is pretty lazily written). While some of my themes do refer to a “return to the natural state,” there is an urgent insistence on moving forward to a post-apocalyptic future that colors my beard sporting into not just a return to a simpler life, but a warning of the primal struggle that is boiling back into the populace (in a theoretical future that pervades my work with or without words), should we not be more careful in our choices.
I like folk music, but there is definitely more to beards than folk music. I mean, I suppose you could take the social psychological implications of folk music and shove the messages and communal communications of my work into that (pretty easily, actually), but it’s just sidestepping the fact that it’s all manners of sonic counterculture that have beard adopters in the ranks, at this point. The metrosexual, who shaves or waxes (or whatever other horrible ideas are removing the blatant exterior signs that the boy being dated is in fact not an android) and cleans every cut, is being spotted as the artificial commercial being that he is, that the sign of less products being used is to let more of the natural state of a man show through. The idea that, for the genuine rough edges of the human psyche to show, the rough edges of the male must be displayed as well, is not not an altogether unreasonable one.
I mean, it doesn’t cease to crack me up that women have hated shaving their legs for so long, yet it didn’t seem to publicly catch on as quickly that men didn’t like shaving their faces, which are even more sensitive (ugh… I assure you of this one) to scraping a blade (or three) across the facialscape.
Basically, there are some fun sentences in the article, but me doing one typewriter set in the presence of the writer would really fuck up his shit near-irrecoverably.
Conveniently, some posts of mine tomorrow will give more evidence on the “noise beard” idea.
(via tracidcarnes)
Despite the fact that I liked the content of the link, this needs a reality check and a refutation, outright:
- This makes most people into writers of sorts.
- This only describes one kind of writer.
Let me tell you what a writer could end up doing instead. After pleading and begging for things so basic that the once-flowing landscape of prose that had been there at the start has nearly turned entirely into social network profile comment auto-posted spam, the writer will internalize things, like he always does after having tried to give the fair universe that you always claimed you wanted, but insisted on doing nothing to maintain or grow. He will take everything has a shared fault, and turn it into his own story, because that’s what he’s left with. You will become innocent and tragic in your lack of knowledge, in spite of every notification that could have spelled out what was coming when there was somehow, someway, never enough time just then. Every mistake will become the writer’s mistake, because at least then, one person will be sorry in a timely fashion. Then he’ll eventually write about his attempts at redeeming himself from these notions that he threw upon himself, only you’ll no longer be in the story at all.
There is more to being a bloody writer than editing out the inconvenient details.
I think after I finish writing and recording this Fresh Cherries from Yakima record I’ve been working on for almost two years, I’m going to sit down and really get cracking on this novel that I’ve been working on for almost five years.
I’m obviously an exceedingly diligent person.
