Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Meet Adam Fairbanks
Adam Fairbanks was doing his best to think fast. Why do there have to be three of them? was his first thought. He couldn’t have handled even one assailant on his own, but three? He recalled that his mother once said that bad things always came in threes. That appeared to be true of bullies, for sure. They were after all, very bad things. This trio consisted of the tall bully, the fat bully and their leader, the ugly bully.
It was the ugly bully who stood with the other two flanking his either side. He delivered another quick jab of a shove into Adam’s chest, knocking the smaller boy backwards a few steps.
“So you think you’re better than us, you little puke?” demanded Ugly. “Think you’re better than regular people?”
Adam took a quick glance over his shoulder. He was dangerously close to the fence. His only escape could be around his antagonists. He doubted very much he would even make it out of the playground if he tried that. He was undersized even for a thirteen year old and his legs were considerably shorter than those of the bullies. Not to mention his backpack was heavy. He silently cursed himself for taking this route home. But cutting through the playground, which was simply a fenced in asphalt area with basketball courts at each end, cut seven minutes off his walk from the bus stop. On most days, he was in no hurry to get home and he would be content to doddle, taking whichever route he pleased. But today he’d decided to chance taking the shortcut so that he could get home to grab extra batteries for his camera. He wanted to shoot for as long as he could before it got dark out.
As he faced his tormenters, Adam realized his gamble hadn’t paid off. His school uniform attracted too much attention in places like playgrounds. He couldn’t run so all he could do was try to talk his way out.
“I don’t even know you,” he stammered. “Why would you think I think I’m better than you?”
The ugly bully sneered. “Of course you don’t know me. You wouldn’t even bother to know me. Since you think you’re somehow above other people.”
“I…it seems to me that you’re the one judging me without knowing anything about me,” said Adam, regretting the words as soon as they escaped his mouth. But he went on anyway. “I mean, we’ve never met as far as I know and then you come up to me and tell me what you think I am.”
If the ugly bully was at a loss following Adam’s rebuttal, he was bailed out by the fat bully. “We know all we need to know about you. The way you walk around in that uniform. I guess you’re too good for a public school. Your parents are probably rich and send you to a private school so you won’t have to mix with non rich kids.”
Adam slowly edged to his left, trying to make his movements appear casual. He had to buy himself some more time.
“I don’t know why my parents send me to private school but it’s not like it was my idea. And wearing the uniform definitely wasn’t my idea but it’s what I have to wear. I’ve gone to public school before and I liked it fine. But when my family moved here and I was enrolled at my school, I didn’t have anything to do with it.”
The ugly bully found his voice again. “So your parents are rich, huh? Maybe it isn’t your fault what you wear or what school you go to – it’s just the way they raised you.”
Here he paused and looked down at his shoes. Adam stopped his furtive movements. This couldn’t be it. Bullies couldn’t actually be reasoned with. And if they could, he couldn’t have been the one to pull it off. Something was coming.
“You’re not to blame for your situation, kid,” said the ugly bully. “I see now you don’t think you’re better than people who aren’t rich like you. So I figure you’d like to do something to even things out a little. Make things more square. I mean, you said you don’t think you’re just better than us. You don’t think you deserve things better than we do, right?”
Adam recognized the trap, but he could do nothing.
“Right.”
“So I think you’ve probably got a few things with you that you could part with. Stuff you could share with others less fortunate than yourself.”
“I really don’t have-”
“Let’s just take a look in your backpack.”
Adam darted to his left and tried to break past them. But the tall bully, while silent during the whole exchange, had evidently been paying attention and he stepped in front of Adam and caught him. Adam was roughly shoved against the fence. The fat bully stepped right in front of him to block Adam’s way, spacing out his feet to make himself even wider.
“You’re rich enough to replace whatever we take,” laughed the fat bully. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
He made a grab for Adam but Adam ducked under his arm and dove through the opening between his legs. Getting to his feet quickly was difficult because of the weight of his book bag but he still managed to break into a run before any of the three had turned around. His sneakers pounding on the pavement (thank God the dress code permitted sneakers), Adam ran flat out across the playground, headed for the gap in the fence at the far end. He ran right through a basketball game being played by some high school kids, just barely managing not to collide with any of the players. He didn’t even bother to look behind him to see how close his pursuers were. He could hear well enough that they were giving chase and already catching up. But then, just before reaching the playground’s edge, he did turn as he heard a commotion behind him. The bullies hadn’t fared as well in running through the game. The ugly bully had run into the ball carrier and the other two had stopped dead as the players shouted their objections. Even though his legs hurt and his lungs were already burning, Adam didn’t stick around to see what would happen next. There was a wooded area just ahead of him. It was a place full of walking paths and the trees were too far apart from each other to provide much cover but it was only option he had.
He kept running until he was confident he was in far enough to be hidden from the view of the playground. He collapsed with his back against one of the larger trees. It took him another minute to fully catch his breath. Then he removed the damning dark blue jacket of his school uniform, suddenly realizing that he was hot and sweaty. For a moment he pondered how such a short run could have made him perspire so much until he remembered that he’d been perspiring before he’d even started his escape.
Sunday, April 22, 2007
V World update
Adam Brody and the creative process
I found I rather liked Brody based on some of his quotes in the article. At one point, he describes himself as a "fake intellectual" - referring to the misconception most people have of him based on his characters in television. He admits he's not particularly well-read and is at times uncomfortable with people thinking that he is. I've got to respect the guy for his honesty. Plus, his acting ability is obviously pretty good if his geek character in Orange County was deemed cool enough for him to have a hot girlfriend on the show - this seeming believeable to the audience, I suppose. Now, certain scripts define certain characters as an "Adam Brody type" - that is, a somewhat low-key, loveable loser type who's actually pretty cool while still being true to his geeky roots. Quietly going about his business and getting the girl. It seems he's playing a very similar character in the movie and once more, he gets the girl(s).
It was probably inevitable that an actor would make geek culture hip and mainstream at some point but props to Brody for allegedly being the first. (he's the new Zach Braff!)
The other quote of his that really struck me went something like "I'm not really that creative (original?) I just know how to take things that I like and repackage them in a slightly different way." This struck me because maybe that's what I'm like. I want to write. I write. But so far, have I come up with anything particularly original? Not yet. My current effort is basically me standing on the shoulders of giants, my personal heroes, and trying to build on what they've shown me without completely ripping them off.
Really talented people sometimes get me upset as I don't think of myself as overly talented anyway and I've got a boatload of confidence issues besides. One of the main things that upsets me about talented people is they usually are good at more than one thing. I find myself thinking this is unfair even if the things are related. Case in point, I'm jealous of say, Ben Folds (whom I adore more than I could ever really be jealous of) because not only is he a phenomenal pianist, but he's also amazing at song writing, arranging AND the guy can sing really well. It all just seems to click with that guy. Which, don't get me wrong, is a great thing. I always wish I was better at piano. But if I was, I still couldn't write decent songs. But oh well. I'm musical, sure, (hell, ive even got an Outstanding Musician Award) but it's not really my arena.
So take any number of great writers I look up to. They all have the ability to come up with great ideas for stories and then tell the stories in really great fashion. Here's where I feel wanting - I think I really have the ability to write well. To write convincingly, to create mood, to present realistic and interesting characters, to set up action, suspense, etc. I'm still learning but I'm getting better all the time. I really do believe that. But here's the thing - the idea. Oh, the idea! So far, I'm not so hot at that. I want to write for Marvel someday. But why? Do I want to create new characters for them? Not really. I want to take characters invented by others before me and tell stories with them. I want to weave tales involving Spider Man, the X-Men and Moon Knight. And I think I could do it too. But could I really show everyone something they haven't seen before? I don't know. But I want to.
So maybe I won't be too hard on myself as I write V World, which, admittedly, is not an overly original novel. I'll write and create and weave and try to be original and different, but at the same time I won't put a ton of pressure on myself to reinvent the wheel. There's still time for my idea making chops to improve, after all.
For now, I'll try to take a page out of Adam Brody's book (I wasn't going for any sort of pun here but here we are) and just try to be happy with who I am and where it's got me so far, creatively speaking. If I focus on my strengths, the rest will come in time. Here's hoping anyway.