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Friday, June 01, 2007
So, I found out that one of my mentors died on Wednesday.
Mark Harris was never quite the great American novelist. For sure, he wrote a couple of great novels, and a few good ones. He also wrote a couple that stunk. But he was certainly a *writer*, through and through. He woke up in the morning, and his first thought was to write. During the day, he was thinking about writing. When he went to bed, he had the proverbial notebook next to it, ready to write something down if it popped into his head.
I took four or five classes with Mark, and they all worked along a similar line: he encouraged everyone in his classes to write two pages a day. They didn't have to be great pages. They didn't have to be pages to keep. Harris felt it most important to work on your craft; that, and that, in order to get to the good pages you had in you, you had to get the bad ones out of your system.
The university never quite seemed to give him the full respect that he deserved. There were always other writers around, younger ones capturing a bit more of the field's imagination (Ron Carlson, among others), and in the late 90s, he had begun to fade in his output and reputation. His major works, like BANG THE DRUM SLOWLY, were far behind him. But his passion for writing never seemed to diminish, and I respected that.
He had his quirks, and shamefully, early on in knowing him, they were easy to make fun of. He wore thick, bottle-bottom glasses, but with a twist: they had a flip-up element. While many people who wear glasses have a sunglasses element that flips down to cover their eyewear, Harris' flip brought down a second glasses lens that seemed just as thick as the bottom one. He also had one hand gesture that he seemed to prefer using, a "point" that never quite became a point. By the time I finished my final class under his tutelege, I found everything about the man charming; maybe I had needed to grow into my appreciation for him.
I never did quite get the hand of writing two pages a day back then, though I put it into practice when cranking out the first draft of my first novel a bit back. I'm also trying to put it into practice right now while working on another project. Have to get those crappy pages out of my system, after all.
He had left ASU a few years ago, and I don't think I ever really took the time to properly thank him. So today, I am. Thank you, Mr. Harris. Thank you for the interest and time that you gave me and countless other young writers. Thank you for the joy in the words you wrote. And thank you for the smiles you brought to our classrooms. Rest in peace... and may Heaven supply you with an endless ream of paper. Two pages a day in eternity should see you back at the top of your game in no time at all.
/Mason
12:17 PM
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Thursday, April 19, 2007
WHAT NO ONE REALLY WANTS TO ADMIT ABOUT WHAT HAPPENED AT VIRGINIA TECH
There’s an ugly, unspoken truth about the massacre at Virginia Tech this past Monday, one that no one really wants to talk about or admit exists. And it is this: what happened isn’t really a shock. Anyone who says it’s a shock is a liar or someone living with his or her head outside of reality. No, the dirty little secret behind what happened is that the real shock value comes in that it doesn’t happen more often.
Because, let’s face reality, we know that we’re lucky it doesn’t. Looking at the killer behind what happened at V.T., he was a textbook example of someone ready to go off at any time. He had a long period of isolation and loneliness, his writings became more disturbed, there were reports of him harassing female students and a lack of a dating history, he had a history of psychological problems and medication for them… his paranoia and anger were mounting, and finally he exploded. Sad, horrific, but you’ve yet to hear a single person express surprise, have you? Nope. And they’re not going to, either. Again, anyone who actually does try to is in total denial or a liar of mammoth proportions. He was a known time bomb, and people blithely walked by him every day, ignoring the danger, like people who refuse to use condoms because they figure it can’t happen to them. Let this Monday’s events say it loud: it can happen to you, and if you aren’t paying attention, it will.
I’ve seen a huge rush to point the finger of blame this week, which is pretty standard at this point. I’ve seen video games blamed. Hollywood’s output. The little-known adverse effects of anti-depressants. Even the school itself. But those are simplistic reasons meant to get someone’s name in the headlines. No, I think the real blame lies in the root changes that have taken place in our society over the past ten years and how they’ve changed everything about how we live and one huge elephant in the room:
IT HAS NEVER BEEN EASIER TO BE COMPLETELY ISOLATED AS A HUMAN BEING.
Ever. I mean ever. The ability to become disassociated from the world is one we each possess, and it happens at a younger and younger age.
Think about it. Technology has finally made it possible to live your life without ever having to interact with other people in person. Need food? Grocery stores now deliver. Pizza delivery is a multi-billion dollar business. Hell, even sit-down restaurants affiliate themselves with companies that will pick up to-go orders and deliver them. Need gas in your car? Pay at the pump. Got bills or rent to pay? Use your bank account online to do it electronically. Need some sort of social interaction, but don’t have the skills to do it at a bar? Chat online. Even if you finally realize you need some sort of intimacy, even on a temporary basis, the escort services and prostitutes have joined the techno-revolution and do online-booking. You can move to a new home by booking a truck online, then using the web to set up your utilities and pay your deposits. Even renewing your license plate doesn’t mean a trip to the DMV anymore.
Compounding technology’s influence, it can also actively cause us to turn away from others even when using it to “communicate.” I work at one of the largest universities in the world, and many years ago, I was a student there as well. During my undergraduate years, it was a very different place; it was before 90% of the student population had a cell phone. Today when I walk around campus, I see people barely talking to or acknowledging one another; instead, they’re talking to someone else in their insular world and ignoring those around them. Or, barring that, they have earbuds in, listening to the songs downloaded to their iPods. Conversation between two living, breathing people has declined precipitously. Little wonder, in that environment, that those who feel isolated begin to retreat further into their own heads.
It compounds from there. The isolationist nature of our culture has bred even more superficiality into it as well. With our mighty technological gifts, the distance between the Haves and Have Nots grows. The Haves can enhance their physicality with expensive clothes, plastic surgery, the finest cars… the Have Nots, while not left behind by technology, lose ground as the Haves use that artificiality to widen the gulf. The sneers of those Haves who look down on those that don’t “fit” have never sounded louder; before, those sneers were simply part of a personality flaw. Now, they stem from a sense of entitlement- you do not belong in their expensive, perfectly constructed world, and you must be excised to the margins. Immediately.
I appreciate the irony that I’m sitting here writing this alone in my house, so eloquently and egotistically displaying the results in my own technological vanity space. But the truth is, I am writing this from a place of fear and worry, no matter where I am. Our society isn’t working towards solutions to bring people together; rather, we’re working to improve the technology so that we can streamline and automate even more of human existence. Ultimately, that means we’re going to keep breeding more and more discontent amongst those who feel marginalized and disconnected, and the violence they cause will escalate. You can try and offer up solutions like religion, but that’s not really an institution in good shape right now. Until we find a way to start reconnecting with one another and creating a world in which we can make the isolated join us and feel comfortable, the danger will remain, and the ticking sound in their heads will get louder and louder. We’d all damned well better hope we aren’t around when the mechanism fires.
/Mason
9:56 PM
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Friday, March 16, 2007
THE SOUNDTRACK TO YOUR LIFE STORY/MOVIE MEME
Nicked from the always entertaining Kevin Church. Yes, it's a new Happy Nonsense entry. Try not to drop dead from shock, people.
Opening Credits: "Insanity” by Boingo. Might as well set the tone early.
Waking Up: "Virgin State of Mind” by K’s Choice. The hero should always try and start the long day with a clear head, yes?
First Day At School: "Damn It Feels Good to Be a Gangsta" by The Geto Boys. Kids can smell blood in the water, just like sharks and convicts. Walk in like you own the place and don’t let ‘em see you sweat.
Falling In Love: "I Will Follow You Into the Dark" by Deathcab For Cutie. The best song in recent memory about loving someone forever.
Fight Song: "Looking at the World From the Bottom of a Well" by Mike Doughty. Mike Doughty is a god. Mark it down.
Breaking Up: "Wish You Were Here” by Pink Floyd. For the distance never to be bridged.
Prom: "Upside Down" by Barenaked Ladies. I never went to prom. But this underrated gem has a lot of pep and gets the blood pumping, and I’d have danced my heart out at prom if the DJ put in on.
Life: "Pull Me Under" by Dream Theater. This tune always speaks to the part of me that is overwhelmed and wants to lie down and quit. Then the chorus kicks in, and I remember “I’m Not Afraid.”
Mental Breakdown: "Eraser" by Nine Inch Nails. Reznor has made a living out of writing anthems to mental schisms. This is his best one.
Driving: "Hell Above Water" by Curve. The song is nearly a cliché at this point, thanks to movie trailers, but it still makes my foot press harder on the gas pedal.
Flashback: "Existentialism on Prom Night" by Straylight Run. Yes, I didn’t go to prom, but that isn’t really what the song is about. “Sing me something soft, sad, and delicate” captures the raw emotional of the teen years exquisitely.
Getting Back Together: "Going Back To Cali" by LL Cool J. An outside the box choice. “Cali” is, after all, a metaphor in the song, not just a place or the girl herself.
Wedding: "Also Sprach Zarathustra" by Richard Strauss. Every flick should use *some* piece of classical music, dammit, and this is mine. If I’m getting married, I want something a lot more exciting than “Here Comes the Bride”.
Birth of Child: "Blue Collar Suicide" by the Refreshments. Having a kid isn’t always the happiest moments in people’s lives. Accidents happen, lives are detoured…
Final Battle: "Hangman in the Noose" by the Sand Rubies. First: the band named themselves after petrified shit you can find in the desert. Second: rousing, kick ass song that gets the adrenalin flowing. Solid choice.
Death Scene: "Why Me?" by Planet P. I expect my end to come as a sacrifice for the greater good, of course. This song’s lamentation on having to take on that exact responsibility is perfect.
Funeral Song: "Stockholm Syndrome" by Muse. Because I cannot pass up the opportunity for one last snarky shot at the world.
End Credits: "Royal Station 4-16" by Melissa Etheridge. Sure, it’s a train song/metaphor. But my father, a railroad man himself, died on the job, and if I could have convinced anyone to do it, I’d have played it at his funeral. It’s a terrific song, by the way, and one that I’ve never seen her perform live (having had the pleasure of taking in her shows three times early in her career).
Thanks Kev!
/Mason
9:04 AM
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Monday, February 19, 2007
Still livin'...
Honest.
/Mason
2:45 PM
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