Welcome to WeeklyWilson.com, where author/film critic Connie (Corcoran) Wilson avoids totally losing her marbles in semi-retirement by writing about film (see the Chicago Film Festival reviews and SXSW), politics and books----her own books and those of other people. You'll also find her diverging frequently to share humorous (or not-so-humorous) anecdotes and concerns. Try it! You'll like it!

Month: September 2012 Page 1 of 2

Prince Plays Chicago’s United Center: September 24, 2012

Prince in Chicago, 9/24/2012.

Prince had not played Chicago in 8 years, but his first of 3 shows on Monday, September 24, 2012, was well worth the wait. If you’re going, make sure that you don’t bail before the final third encore, either, or you’ll miss all his Big Hits. There were many naysayers complaining about the long delay before he reappeared, in a different plain black outfit, to play his big hits, because it was a work night and at least half of the crowd had gone home. There was also disappointment at the House of Blues, where the rumor was that Prince would be present and play. He was present, but he didn’t play. For me—someone who didn’t have to go to work early in the morning—I was willing to wait (Maybe it’s all the waiting you do at political rallies that has me conditioned.) There was a long wait at the beginning of the concert and the delay between the end of the first encore and my move to the floor and all the “hits” was substantial: also more than an hour. So, it was midnight before the evening ended, after the 8 p.m. ticketed start time was also delayed.

Prince takes a bow before the first of 2 encore periods.

I saw Prince play at the (Moline, IL) Civic Center years ago, when he was fighting with his record label, had just started using the symbol and played only one recognizable “hit” from his catalogue: “Raspberry Beret.” Although the 6 of us waited all night for “Little Red Corvette” or “1999” or “Purple Rain” or “When Doves Cry,” I don’t remember that we heard any of them. There were 2 large Chow dog-like statues set up on each side of a proscenium stage that reminded me of a fancy Chinese restaurant. There was none of the dancing that I had heard was so mesmerizing in his act.

When Prince played the United Center in Chicago on the first of 3 nights of shows on Monday, September 24, 2012, there was lots of dancing. The stage, itself, was the now-familiar Prince emblem. The Purple One was clad in black and white, in a half-white (left side) and half-black (right side) suit that made me think of an old Cesar Romero role…[it may have been the Joker, on television]…where his face was painted half-white and half-black.

Overview.. Symbol-shaped stage.

The singer was accompanied by a 20-member ensemble and, my seat-mate said, was either rolled in or carried in in a box. (I missed this, as the smoke machines and the fake sound of a rainstorm projected against the Prince symbol with lightning on the giant overhead screen had practically obscured the stage to the point that I was afraid Prince was having trouble finding the stage.)

The concert was scheduled to start at 8:00 p.m. I was nearly an hour late but missed nothing. There was no “lead-in” band, but there were many fancy electrical things and color changes for the stage, onto which were projected swirling patterns and polka dots at other points in the show. At several points, Prince climbed atop the electrified grand piano to sing and dance.

For this show and the extra one added on the third day of his performances in the “Welcome to” format he has used in other cities, 11 horns fill the arena, giving the band a large sound. Prince has said, “My favorite instrument is the band,” which he fine-tuned during rehearsals in his 70,000 square foot headquarters southwest of Minneapolis.

Prince last performed in Chicago in 2004, pulling in more than $87 million and reviving his career. Now 54, he has not released an album since 2010 because, as he told Gregg Kot of the Chicago “Tribune,” in a September 23rd interview, he doesn’t see much point in releasing albums when: “We’re in a singles market again. It’s crazy for me to walk into that with a new album. Young people have decided they like to listen to music in a certain way, through earbuds, and that’s fine with me as long as it doesn’t bother them that they’re not hearing 90% of the music that way.” He adds, “But I don’t have to record to eat or to get out of debt or to pay my taxes.  I looked forward to the day I could do this. Freedom is an interesting thing.  You have to work really hard to get free.”

Prince did many covers during the show— (too many, according to my seatmate, since Prince’s own catalogue is so deep) —and some were surprising (“Don’t Stop Till You Get Enough,” “The Arms of an Angel”). There was a semi-odd gospel song featuring the 3 female back-up singers and Prince was extremely generous in sharing the stage with a bald African-American female singer named Shelby. Shelby was an unusual choice, compared to Prince’s other female protégés over the years. She sang well, but we all paid to hear Prince and Shelby got a lot of his onstage time.

There were also some minor technical glitches where the amplifiers were heard to hum and drone. At one point, Prince tossed the guitar with the leopard-skin strap over the edge of the stage to a stagehand. Shelby’s microphone did not not work properly at one point, so Prince gave her his.

But, more than anything, Prince seemed to want the crowd to enjoy themselves, constantly cheerleading with phrases like, “I can’t hear you” and “Right now, I’d like to hear my favorite sound in the world—you!” He instructed the 3 back-up singers to go out into the crowd and bring audience members up onstage to dance. He also danced a lot in tiny red heels (I’ll bet his feet hurt at the end of the long show) and if you want(ed) to hear “Little Red Corvette,” “1999” and the songs I had come for, you had to stay till the very end, ending at midnight and enduring a 20-minute wait while Prince changed and many moved from the nosebleed sections to the floor as people departed before the final set.

As usual, I was seated next to a Bobblehead who howled and danced like Randy Quaid might have danced in the National Lampoon movie “Vacation.” I thought he was going to hurt either himself or me.

Prince knows the sound he wants from his big band. He told Gregg Kot: “Remember the scene in the movie ‘Amadeus’ where he’s dying, and he’s hearing the music in his head?  It becomes impossible to explain.  He doesn’t have the vocabulary.  Now, I’m short—literally and also when I speak—and it’s easy to get all ‘Can’t you hear this? Can’t you hear what I’m hearing?’  And so I use humor when I feel my blood pressure going up.” He attributes his longevity as an artist to being a practicing Jehovah’s Witness for the past 20 years.

Of earlier times, he said, “I nearly had a nervous breakdown on ‘The Purple Rain’ tour in 1984 because it was the same every night. It’s work to play the same songs the same way for 70 shows.  To me, it’s not work to learn lots of different songs so that the experience is fresh to us each night.” He also attributes his longevity to personal changes in his life since the 80s and 90s.

“The world is so jagged. I like smooth waves.  It’s the way I live now.   In the 90s, we had a lot of crazy people in here.  Now, no one argues, no one swears, no one smokes, and no one talks harsh.  We all enjoy each other.  You don’t know what that’s like till you start living like that, because, for a long time, I didn’t.  It was affecting me in my head, which, in turn, affected me in my throat. I changed the way I operate.  A lot of my contemporaries didn’t. That’s the reason I’m still here and a lot of them aren’t.”

The show was very enjoyable, especially when I think back to the snoozer I saw at Moline, Illinois’ Civic Center (“The Mark of the Quad Cities” it was called then). This one was up-tempo and lively and designed to please and entertain. As Prince reminisced with Gregg Kot of the “Tribune,” that’s the way he likes it:  “I remember those Park West shows in Chicago that I played when I was just starting out.  I’ll dream about the Park West sometimes.  I can see it so clearly in my dreams. That wide-open look from the stage, the people right up on you.  Those were life-changing shows.”

“The Master” Limns “The Church of What’s Happening Now” with Philip Seymour Hoffman & Joaquin Phoenix

Director Paul Thomas Anderson

Paul Thomas Anderson’s sixth film—his first in 5 years—is garnering major Oscar buzz for the  performances of its ensemble cast, especially Joaquin Phoenix as Freddie Quell and Philip Seymour Hoffman as Lancaster Dodd, a charismatic cult leader some say is based on L Ron Hubbard, founder of Scientology.

As the film opens, World War II is ending and with it the shipboard career of able seaman Freddie (Joaquin). Freddie is shown making home brew to celebrate. This is one of Freddie’s chief talents and favorite pursuits. The secret ingredient (paint thinner) lays the crew low. They are shown in an aerial shot suffering the after-effects of having ingested Freddie’s powerful elixir. Indeed, when Freddie eventually meets Lancaster Dodd aboard ship, there is talk of whether he can concoct more of his potent booze to share with the loyal members of the cult known as The Cause, which Lancaster Dodd has founded and leads.

Reviewers around the world are universally hailing the intense performances from Joaquin Phoenix and Philip Seymour Hoffman. Some in foreign countries (most notably England) are seeing political parallels for this time in our nation’s history which U.S. film-goers may (or may not) find relevant.

Joaquin Phoenix

This is the first film since Joaquin Phoenix made bizarre appearances on talk shows like David Letterman’s “Late Night.” Bearded and touting a documentary entitled “I’m Still Here,” Phoenix announced his retirement from show business and his possible entry into a career in music. No one bought it then. Nobody is buying it now. Especially since he’s back on the big screen as the “go to” guy to play neurotic leading men.

Former actors who (in years of yore) used to be called on to play psychos (and always did so brilliantly) were Bruce Dern (“Black Sunday” comes to mind), William DeVane (“Rolling Thunder”) and Steve Buscemi in pretty much anything, prior to “Boardwalk Empire.” In today’s cinema, Joaquin Phoenix is the real deal. Rambling. Incoherent.  Seemingly ready to become violent instantaneously. A younger version of Crispin Glover.

Some of the things Phoenix does in this film, in fact, were improvised, such as destroying a toilet in a jail cell (which the “New York Times” reports he didn’t even know was possible before it happened) or getting into a bizarre fight in a department store with a portly middle-aged photographic subject. This is a tour de force whacko-gone-nuts scene in a film where Phoenix is described as “profoundly unnerving,” and “hunched over insecurely in a display of surprising weirdness.”

My thought on that remark: What’s surprising about it? Joaquin Phoenix seems to have perfected portraying the high-voltage nut case who could go ballistic at any minute. In this role, as Director Paul Thomas Anderson told the “Huffington Post’s” Mike Hogan on September 11, 2012:  “There were a number of opportunities for him (Phoenix) to hurt himself and I think he did, you know?  But that’s kind of what you want, hopefully, within reason.”  It doesn’t surprise us at all to learn that the fictional character Joaquin plays has a mother in an insane asylum, is an alcoholic, is not too bright, and is obsessively fixated on sex and most primitive things. (Farting comes to mind)

The movie opens with young boys making an anatomically correct sand sculpture female form on a beach. Freddie ends up curled up next to it, arm thrown over the sand sculpture’s mid-section. When Quell is given a Rorschach test upon dismissal from the Navy, every single ink blot reminds him of something sexual. Freddie’s idea of a snappy come-on to a potential sexual mate: he holds up a sign that says, “Want to fuck?” with a happy face drawn below it.

That occurs when Freddie has found his way to Lancaster Dodd’s (Hoffman’s) ship, where, it should be noted, he is a stow-away as he runs for his life from migrant workers who think he has poisoned an old man with his home brew. An interesting comment he makes about the old man is, “You remind me of my father,” just before all hell breaks loose regarding the old man’s condition. Food for thought.

Much has been made of the cinematic change of colors as Freddie moves from his initial post-war job as a photographer in a ritzy department store to fruit-picker with other migrant workers. Salinas, California is mentioned, and Anderson admits that he used some stories of Steinbeck’s life in writing the film, which was shot with 70 mm film using an old Panavision Super 70 Camera. (The cinematography by Mihai Malaimareh, Jr. is Oscar-worthy. Anderson usually works with Robert Elswit, but Elswit was involved in shooting “The Bourne Legacy.”)

An original score by Jonny Greenwood (“Radiohead) adds what sounds like a ticking clock (during an auditing session) and the music fits the material, although I’ll never hear the song “Slow Boat to China” again without thinking of the scene where Hoffman sings it to Phoenix, much as I can’t hear “Singin’ in the Rain” without thinking of Malcolm McDowell kicking the crap out of an elderly couple in “A Clockwork Orange.” [My mother always told me that that was the song playing on the radio when her younger brother Cliff came home from World War II, so it has a special place in my memory bank. And hers, were she still alive.] The period music and costumes are authentic and lovingly photographed. The supporting performances by Amy Adams as Mrs. Dodd and Jesse Plemons as Val Dodd, his son, are excellent. (For fans of AMC’s “Breaking Bad,” Plemons is Walt’s new blonde replacement for Jesse Pinkman.)

The film has elicited plaudits like this one from Todd McCarly on 9/1 in Venice Review (the film opened the Venice Film Festival):  “A bold, challenging, brilliantly acted drama that is a must for serious audiences.” Paul Thomas Anderson admitted to the “Huffington Post” that he was still trying to work out what it all means. This successor to Anderson’s “There Will Be Blood” and “Magnolia” caused Toronto Film Festival patrons to leave muttering, “Whoa! I’m going to need to see that again.”

For me, it came at a great time, as I had just read Paul Haggis’ 26-page interview with “The New Yorker” entitled “Paul Haggis vs. The Church of Scientology.” (February 14, 2011.)_ Haggis is a former believer who has fallen away with a vengeance. Then came “Vanity Fair’s” October, 2012 issue with the article:  “What Katie Didn’t Know: Marriage, Scientology-Style.” Although Anderson pleads that “The Master” is not necessarily based on L. Ron Hubbard (founder of the Scientology religion that claims to have 8 million followers, when 40,000 is closer to the truth), the parallels are unmistakable. Anderson cites Dyanetics from the 50s.

Here is a passage about the process of  “auditing” that the Church of Scientology uses on its practitioners, from “Vanity Fair.”(p. 224) “We used hidden cameras behind mirrors, in picture frames, in alarm clocks.  I know every single covert camera made. I installed hundreds and hundreds of them” This according to Marty Rathbun, another fallen-away former Scientology church member. Rathbun described members being “audited” where they would hold what looked like 2 soup cans and be asked questions about their early lives, which they were to answer honestly or the meter would detect their duplicity.  David Miscavige, the Church’s current head man (and Best Man at Tom Cruise’s wedding to Katie Holmes) “used those frailties and weaknesses in order to manipulate.”

Philip Seymour Hoffman as “The Master”

Rathbun reported that Miscavige eagerly awaited the tapes of the famous at the Gold Base headquarters in Helmet and liked to read them aloud to entertain others. Claire Headley (a former member of the sect) said, “I know he did it with the reports of Lisa Marie Presley back in ’95, when she was married to Michael Jackson, and I know he (Miscavige) did it a number of times with Kirstie Alley. I saw and heard him.” Miscavige’s close aide Tom DeVocht said, “He loved to dish about celebrities. He’d whip out a bottle of Macallan scotch at 2 or 3 in the morning in the Officers’ Lounge (of the sect’s floating ship), play backgammon, and read Cruise’s reports with a running commentary, usually reports dealing with Cruise’s sex life. “He’s probably got a lot of embarrassing material,” said DeVocht.

The manipulation of Joaquin Phoenix’s character using his auditing sessions, (which are called “recordings” in the movie, is obvious.) Even Freddie begins to use the manipulative system on others by the time the film comes to an unsatisfying close. The questions asked of the faithful were exactly what these recent articles have described as being asked in Scientology auditing sessions:  “Do you have muscle spasms?  Do your past failures bother you?  Is your life a struggle? Is your behavior erratic? Are you consumed by envy?” All these (and more) are asked of Phoenix in the context of Lancaster Dodd’s (Hoffman’s) appraisal of Freddie Quell (Phoenix), including the use of various games that seem senseless (Don’t blink while truthfully answering the questions. Pick a point and drive to it as fast as you can). Freddie even asks outright, “How is this helping?” and is told “You’ll see.” (I’m not sure Freddie ever did see; Paul Haggis definitely did not.)

The “Vanity Fair” article tells us that L Ron Hubbard’s belief was that 75 million years ago a galactic emperor named Xenu sent millions of frozen souls on spaceships from his overpopulated kingdom to the bases of volcanoes on Earth. The volcanoes were hydrogen-bombed and today the scattered and reincarnated spiritual beings or “thetans” pick up human bodies as “containers” to inhabit. [Perhaps some of you even remember the 2000 John Travolta vehicle “Battlefield Earth,” which owed a great deal to the deceased L. Ron Hubbard. (What poor Barry Pepper and Forest Whitaker were doing in the movie is a mystery.)]

Some of you may be better informed about the Republican candidate for President of the United States’ religious beliefs and realize that Mormons believe all people existed as spirits or intelligences of God and that life on earth is just a stepping point, with a privilege to advance like Him. The spirits were free to accept or reject this plan. [Only Satan’s 1/3 rejected it.] The rest came to Earth and received bodies, which exposed them to suffering. In the Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints afterlife, there are 3 degrees of glory and a hell often called Spirit Prison: the Celestial Kingdom, the Terrestrial Kingdom and the Telestral Kingdom, or Outer Darkness. The current presidential campaign involving a Mormon may be why reviewers in England point to the movie as having a particularly relevant historical referent at this time in United States history.

The mention of John Travolta (“Battleship Earth”) brings to mind another whispered tenet of Scientology, alluded to in the plot of “The Master:” the presence of some famous alleged homosexual members within the church. The rumors reached such epidemic proportions that television’s “Southpark” even did an episode involving the rumor. In “The Master,” (just as many saw a homoerotic subtext in “Blue Thunder,”) the attraction between the educated, urbane, charismatic Lancaster Dodd and the down-and-out, seedy, violent, alcoholic Freddie Quell is somewhat inexplicable. Perhaps the scene in jail, when both Lancaster (Hoffman) and Freddie (Phoenix) have been arrested is the most revealing. By now, Dodd’s own son (Val, played by Jesse Plume) has told Freddie: “He’s making all this up as he goes along. You don’t see that?” This earns Val a beat-down at the hands of the always violent Freddie, who will pummel any nay-sayers, without specific orders from the Man himself.

Lancaster will not countenance any questioning of his cult.  When he is corrected by a listener named John Moore about the age of the Earth (Lancaster says trillions, while More comments that it is only billions), he barks, “You seem to know the answers to your questions; then why do you ask?” At three o’clock that morning: Beat-down for Moore at the hands of Freddie. When a former proofreader for Dodd’s first book tells Freddie, candidly, that he thinks Dodd’s second book “stinks” and should be reduced to a 3-page handout: a beating again, from the ever-faithful Freddie, Dodd’s self-appointed enforcer.

Only when the duo are carted off to jail (stemming from Lancaster’s assertions that he can “cure” certain forms of leukemia and, later, insanity) for illegal withdrawal of funds from the Philadelphia-based Mildred Drummond Foundation (plus another $1,500 for damages to Ms. Drummond’s sailing yacht) do we see the two men, side-by-side, within their respective jail cells. Lancaster Dodd is quite composed and urbane. Freddie Quell is like a caged animal, stripped of his shirt, destroying everything in his path, full of violent fury. Freddie yells at Lancaster, through the bars, “Shut the fuck up!” Lancaster shouts back, “You’re a lazy-ass piece of shit. Who likes you except me?  I’m the only one that likes you. The only one. You’re a fucking drunk and I’m done with you.”

Except he’s not. The two are reunited not once, but twice more during the film, with a particularly fond reunion after their mutual imprisonment. Freddie makes a trip back to try to find the girl of his dreams (Doris), 7 years after he received a letter from her overseas. He learns that time has marched on. She is married with two children and living in Florida. Freddie goes to a neighborhood movie theater. He is watching “Casper, the Friendly Ghost” (The film’s overheard line is:  “The Captain never leaves the ship.”) Somehow, Lancaster knows Freddie is in the theater (we never learn how). An usher brings an old-style black rotary-dial telephone to Freddie.  “I have a matter of such urgency,” says Lancaster to Freddie.  “I miss you. Come to England. We have a school here now and we have a way to cure the insane.”

More symbolic water shots as Freddie heads for England. Freddie shows up looking like the wrath of God. He is unkempt, unshaven, thin, and looks like a man in his late fifties, rather than someone a decade younger.  Lancaster’s wife (Amy Adams as Peggy), seeing Freddie, says, “This is something you do for a billion years or not at all.  This is pointless. He isn’t interested in getting better.” At least Mrs. Dodd is perceptive enough to realize this about Freddie, “You can’t take life straight, can you?” When Freddie asks about the children, Lancaster responds “DCF.” (Department of Children and Families.)

The singing scene (“Slow Boat to China”) follows, causing one reviewer to declare this and later scenes “a finale unworthy of so much that has come before.” Noting the power, mystery and dangerous unpredictability of the plot (primarily due to the personality of Joaquin Phoenix in real life), some critics were not happy with the film’s finale. I fall into that category.

 Director Paul Thomas Anderson told the “Huffington Post’s” Mike Hogan), “That attraction the Master has for Freddie—absolute sheer excitement and the thrill of the possibility that he may leave or do something crazy at any moment.” (Right actor for THAT job description!)  Anderson also said, “The homoerotic thing—you know, you can consider it that way, sure, but I think of the characters as stand-ins for any relationship story.”

There will be many interpretations, some opting for Freddie to represent pure carnal desire and primitive urges, while Lancaster Dodd represents civilizing influences. This is underscored when Lancaster says, “We are not ruled by our emotions.  Do away with all negative impulses” and tells Freddie, “You’re aberrated. You’ve wandered from the proper path.”

A thought-provoking film in the same vein as “Tree of Life” (or “There Will Be Blood”) that will definitely be prominent at Oscar time, especially for its fine acting.

“Live” Radio Interview for New York City Radio Station

http://www.blogtalkradio.com/middayconversations/2012/09/12/author-connie-wilson-on-conversations-live

Check out this “live” interview about “The Color of Evil” done by Cyrus A Webb of Brooklyn on September 12, 2012.
John Saul was “up” as a guest, and Joan Collins’ sister, Jacqueline Susann, and a famous model, so I obviously must have been mistaken for someone else.

ALMA Award (American Literary Merit Award) Arrived Today

Dear Connie Corcoran Wilson,

American Literary Merit Award for “Confessions of an Apotemnophile,” which appeared within “Hellfire & Damnation,” the original book. “Hellfire & Damnation II” is out now and will be FREE on Kindle for the 5 days leading up to Halloween as an E-book. I will also be launching the book at a book signing to be held at the Book Rack in Moline on the Saturday before Halloween, October 27th, from 1 p.m to 4 p.m. COME ON DOWN!

Congratulations! Your story “Confessions of an Apotemnophile” has been recognized by American Literary Merit Award and awarded an ALMA! American Literary Merit Award’s mission is to recognize talented short story authors and promote the short story genre. Thank you for sharing your story with us.

Attached is your digital ALMA medal. You are granted permission to display your ALMA medal on your website, social media pages and any promotional print materials. You may state in your promotional materials that your story is an ALMA award winner and you may promote yourself as an ALMA recognized writer. A link to your story will be posted on our website within a week.
Thank you for your contribution to our favorite genre! We all wish you continued writing success.
Sincerely,
American Literary Merit Award
(*The Berkeley Fiction Review wanted this one, but I kept it for the first-in-the-series set of short stories organized around Dante’s “Inferno” and the sins/crimes punished at each level. Check out the 2 books, so far, at www.HellfireAndDamnationTheBook.com).

Back From Paradise

My panel: Topic – “Women Who Can Do It All”

I spent a week in Honolulu, Hawaii, presenting at the Spellbinders Conference held at the Hilton Hawaiian Village. I’m including some candid shots of the gorgeous surroundings, and the remarks made by 1992 Pulitzer-prize-winning Jane Smiley (“1,000 Acres”) and a quintet of Hollywood screenwriters who spoke of their work on such films as “Golden Eye” (the James Bond reboot), “The Book of Eli,” “The Hulk,” “The Punisher,” and many, many others, including many television shows.

1992 Pulitzer Prize-winning author Jane Smiley (“1,000 Acres”) lives in Carmel, California, now, with her husband Jack Canning, but there was a time when she was an Iowa (Ames) professor of writing and there was a time before that when she was a student at the acclaimed University of Iowa Writers’ Workshop.

It was this kinship over our Iowa roots (although Jane was born in Los Angeles and raised near St. Louis) that led me to ask her questions about her writing process at the first Spellbinders’ Writing Conference in Honolulu, Hawaii at the Hilton Hawaiian Village that is concluding on September 3, 2012.

Connie Wilson and Pulitzer-prize winning Iowa grad Jane Smiley.

After “1,000 Acres,” a retelling of Shakespeare’s King Lear story set on an Iowa farm was made into a movie with Jessica Lange, Jason Robards and Sam Shepherd, Jane Smiley moved on to write “Moo,” a humorous tale that dealt with politics at the university level. She told a charming story that went this way: “I was flying from Monterey to New York via San Francisco and I fell asleep on the flight.  One hour into the flight, I woke up to the sound of laughter. My seatmate was reading “Moo.” I said, “That’s my book.” She said, “No, it isn’t. I bought it in the airport.” I said, “No, I mean, that’s MY book. I wrote it.” She looked at me and said, “No, you didn’t.” Her laughter was the best compliment I ever got.

Asked about her years as a Professor of writing at Iowa State University in Ames, Iowa, Ms. Smiley said, “I did enjoy it. When we let them in, we explained it was NOT the University of Iowa (in Iowa City’s) world-renowned Writers’ Workshop. About one-fourth of them said, ‘Oh!’ (with disappointment in her voice). But most were engineers and engineers are used to doing their work. I’d give them writing exercises, like, ‘Eavesdrop for 3 days and then come to class and read what you’ve heard.’ That was hilarious! Or, ‘There are 3 beings in the room and something happens.’ Some of them would write about 2 people and a dog. It was really more fun than work.”

Author Smiley reads from her book “13 Ways of Looking at the Novel.”

When asked if she would ever consider teaching writing again, Smiley responded, “If I could do it MY way, I’d teach again.”

When asked how it felt to learn she had won the Pulitzer Prize for Literature (in 1992) she said: “My 14-year-old daughter was staying home that day. She was at that age where it is absolutely impossible to have any positive impression of her mom. A reporter from the Ames ‘Tribune’ called up and said, ‘What would you say if you were told that you’d won the Pulitzer Prize for fiction.’ I gave her some response. About 2 p.m. the phone rang and some guy from the Washington ‘Post’ called to tell me I had actually won. I said, to my daughter, ‘Honey, I think I won the Pulitzer Prize’ and she said, ‘Hmmmm. Cool.’ Later, in the hallway outside my office at the University, I heard someone screaming, and it was the stringer for the Ames Tribune. They (the Ames Tribune) had scooped the Des Moines Register, who had always scooped them. But, after you win, you go from being a wannabe to a has-been.  You are no longer cool—although I never was. I was 16 weeks pregnant at the time, so I didn’t have to run around and go to a lot of things, because I was throwing up all the time, anyway.”

Opening Night Luau.

On writing, in general:  “You can be the kind of person who enjoys the process, or you can be the kind of person who enjoys the awards.  If it enhances your feeling of being alive, of finding things out, remember that there are never enough awards.”

Economy Set to Improve Regardless of Who is President, Says Aug., 2012, “Esquire”

I’d like to give full credit to the August issue of “Esquire” magazine with Jeremy Renner on the cover for these words about our economy and what we can expect post November, 2012. The original article appeared on page 44, with the title “But, Soft! What Light Through Yonder Widow Breaks!”
The basic contention is that our economy is going to improve no matter what happens this election season. To wit:
“I am convinced that the markets are poised to soar in November, as soon as the uncertainty about the political direction of our country is settled.  Regardless of who wins the presidency and whether either house changes hands, regardless of Europe’s woes, the unprecedented amount of cash sitting on corporate sidelines will be deployed and will set in motion a growth spurt unseen since Monica Lewinsky, the peace dividend and the Internet.”
The article goes on to quote Jimmy Lee, a Texan who is the founder of one of the first online brokerages and also the former chairman of the Texas teachers’ pension fund, as administrator of which he  invested $100 billion. Another expert quoted was Mickey Gooch, founder and CEO of GFI, a brokerage that trades in credit default swaps (CDs).

Here was Gooch’s argument for the contention above:
“The uncertainty will be taken out of the market (regardless of who wins the presidential election).  Investors may not like an Obama re-election, but at least they will know what to anticipate in the tax code and will deal with it.  The Bush tax cuts not being renewed is already priced into the market.” Gooch’s only caveat is in regards to Europe blowing up, which he views as having only a 20% likelihood of occurring.
“The bottom line is that capital has been accumulating at corporations at a never-before-seen pace.  Companies have been stuffing this cash in the mattress because they don’t trust the government. But that’s an unnatural state of affairs.  Companies need to grow like sharks need to swim. Whatever happens in November, expect the American economy to surge to life.”

Legendary Comic Shelley Berman & Wife of 65 Years Still Going Strong

Shelley Berman and his wife of 65 years in the lobby of the Hilton Hawaiian Village in Honolulu on Labor Day, 2012.

As I was working on updating all of you readers (all 2 of you) on the comings and goings of the first Spellbinders Conference in Honolulu, Hawaii, and mourning the fact that I did not see Shelley Berman when he visited the lounge last night (although everyone else apparently did), who should stop, this afternoon, but Mr. and Mrs. Berman.

Shelley Berman was probably my favorite comedian of the 60s. I liked him better than Cosby (although I have to admit to listening to Cosby’s comedy albums and loving the “What’s a cubit?” bit re Noah’s Ark). I liked him better than Bob Newhart, although both of them pioneered the “man on the phone” comedy method. (I think Shelley says Bob took it from him, but, then, Bob probably says the same thing in reverse).

My favorite bit had the hassled comic on the phone from a large department store, where a female clerk was on the ledge outside the building and Shelley was calling for help. When asked how she got out there, his response was: “I don’t know how she got out there! Maybe she tried on something and SNAPPED out!”

Last time I saw Shelley at a small comedy club in Davenport, Iowa, which was within the past 10 years (Linda White could help me out here, if she’d “friend” me on Facebook, as it was after her younger daughter’s wedding reception at the Holiday Inn.) My own son (Scott) had gotten married just months prior and we had a reception at our country club, and I had the Big Bright Idea of purchasing a lot of glow-in-the-dark stuff for fun. I remember that one of my then-friends (Linda Davidson) thought it was a stupid idea at the time, but it went over great, and soon became “de rigeur” for weddings. To this day, I think it is. I had the idea because of the Oriental Trading Company stuff I routinely bought for my Sylvan Learning Center.

Anyway, I was wearing several glow-in-the-dark necklaces and bracelets and chose to gift Mrs. Berman with one, saying, “Thank you for sharing Shelley with us all these years.”

At this morning’s breakfast, James Strauss told a story of touring Honolulu to find an electric shaver for Shelley, as he had forgotten his. I could relate, as I forgot my curling iron and my hair looks like it, as a result. Nice guy Jim and wife Mary scoured the island for all-night pharmacies and found Shelley a $29 electric shaver, which he delivered to his room no doubt to the delight of the elderly couple.

When I saw the Bermans enter the lounge, I went over, expressed my admiration for his comedy talents, and asked Mrs. Berman (among other questions, how long the couple has been married? (A: 65 years). Learning that they have 20 years on me, I then asked her if she ever remembered going to a concert with Shelley where a woman came up after the set and gave her some glow-in-the-dark paraphernalia. She claimed to remember this, and even named the town correctly, unprompted.

I said, “I’d like to thank you, again, for sharing Shelley’s comic genius with us all these years and, also, to congratulate you on such a long and happy marriage.” And I gave her a copy of my newest book (“Hellfire & Damnation II”). I only had that one with me. Too bad I didn’t have a copy of “Laughing through Life” in my purse at the time, but maybe tomorrow?

Mr. Strauss, if you’re reading this, shoot me the room number, and I’ll hand deliver a copy. It’s probably more Mr. Berman’s style.

Labor Day in Hawaii at the Spellbinders 2012 Conference

Jim Strauss, Conference co-organizer and writer, addresses the brunch crowd in the Rainbow Tower.

A brunch was held for participants at the Spellbinders’ Conference this morning. Co-organizer James Strauss was the keynote speaker and James is always good. Although I try to make it a rule to “be the change I want to see,” and the change I want to see is starting things no earlier than 10 a.m., after blogging till 1:30 a.m. I fell out of bed, did a very bad job of make-up and hair (naturally, some young photographer wanted to take my picture and the lens was literally less than foot from my nose, as I stared into the lens, bleary-eyed and hair in disarray. THAT one will be good—NOT!), and traveled down in the Tapa Tower elevator to join the others in the ballroom where our meals have been being served. Or so I thought.

Nobody was in the room, when I arrived there, and when I tried to take the elevator back to my 18th floor room to check on the location in the program (a) the elevators would take me neither up nor down (b) I remembered I HAD no program, since I lent it to Jon Land, who needed it more than I did and (c) 4 other lost people were trying to find the location of the brunch. Among them were Susan Crawford and Peter Miller, agents present to take pitches. And we also collected some other lost folks along the way.

While Susan made phone calls to various others, we tried to find the Rainbow Tower, where the hotel had apparently moved the brunch without notifying those of us trying to find it. As a result, several of us were very late, but the food was (as usual) good, and Jim Strauss, as always, gave an amusing and interesting talk to the assembled masses.

Authors Jacqueline Mitchard (“The Deep End of the Ocean”), Jon Land (the Caitlin Strong series) and Gary Braver (back to camera) listen to James Strauss’ speech.

Originally, some of the members of the group were to move on to Turtle Bay. I think that idea has been jettisoned in favor of staying on here at the Hilton Hawaiian Village, but what do I know? (Jim also told me that the entire cast of “Hawaii 5-0” was going to substitute for the MIA John Travolta and Garry Marshall, but I think this was his idea of a small joke. I don’t watch “Hawaii 5-0” and Scott Caan is too short for my Favorite Leading Man, so no big loss.)

Meanwhile, we’re checking out the cost to “rent” an umbrella on the beach. Yes, you heard me right. To rent one. They are not free to hotel guests. And the riff-raff from town are no longer allowed to congregate anywhere in front of the hotel–[-if they ever were.]

I love Hawaii and always have, but I can assure vacationers that, if you travel to Cancun and stay where we stay (the Royal Resorts properties), you won’t be charged extra to sit under one of the fixed “palapas” on the beach in front of the Royal Sands or the Royal Islander. I used to call Cancun “the poor man’s Hawaii,” but, of late, it has gotten pricier, as well. Still, charging $6.50 for ONE coke beats Australian prices (gas is cheaper than Illinois, however), and making guests pay for the use of an umbrella is a new twist on gouging the tourist trade, which would probably not cause the tourists to want to repeat the experience, if a similar beach could be experienced, with bluer water and cooler sand, for NO extra expense.

 

Casual shot of the group as the brunch broke up.

The food has been uniformly great. The presentations have been useful and enjoyable. As usual, I never hear anyone say, “Hey, we’re going to go hang out at ________ after this. Wanna’ come?” but that is probably because I’m a minnow in the literary pool. Still, it would have been nice to have been frequenting the bar where Shelley Berman showed up last night (he has a guest spot on “Hawaii 50,” they say), but why should this be any different than ThrillerFest or HWA or Love Is Murder or the Backspace Writers’ Conference or any other writing thing I have ever attended?  I go. I pay my money. I am pleasant to one and all. I attend the functions. I end up in  my room  watchong TV, because I think you have to reach a certain level of income or popularity or thinness or attractiveness or something-ness to ever be allowed into the “Inner Circle” that gads about. Just the way it is. Unlikely I’ll ever reach that stratosphere. But at least the husband and I are here together, which gives me ONE person who doesn’t blow me off repeatedly and take off with a large group to go socialize and have fun at the “in” places I am not aware of.

Paradise.

.

Two more days of fun in the sun.

No idea what the deal is with this guy. He is either starting his own religious sect, stretching before or after exercising, mourning the recent death of the Reverend Sun Myung Moon or planting something. He was in that position for a LONG time, though, folks, and it looked extremely uncomfortable.

Hilton Hawaiian Village grounds.

View from the Rainbow Room brunch.

Jim Strauss, the ubiquitous Nadia (not Comanece), Tony and Tori Eldridge (“Lone Tree Productions), after the Spellbinders’ Brunch.

2012 Spellbinders’ Conference in Hawaii Winding Down: Jane Smiley Speaks

Connie Wilson & Jane Smiley in Honolulu.

If you grew up in Iowa, as I did, or attended either the University of Iowa (Iowa City), as I did, or Iowa State University (Ames, Iowa), you probably remember when Iowa City graduate Jane Smiley, author of “1,000 Acres” won the 1992 Pulitzer Prize for fiction.  She followed up that tragic retelling of the King Lear story, set on an Iowa farm, with “Moo,” a comic piece that poked some fun at the politics of teaching on a university campus.

Jane Smiley has been in residence at the 2012 Spellbinders Writers’ Conference in Honolulu, Hawaii, and her workshop on writing, which I attended, had much valuable information to share with less proficient authors—like me!

It was also fun to hear her tell the story of the day she learned she had won the 1992 Pulitzer Prize for Fiction and other stories from the career of someone who is truly a much deeper thinker than Yours Truly. Jane Smiley (“1,000 Acres”) lives in Carmel, California, now, with her husband Jack Canning, but there was a time when she was an Iowa (Ames) professor of writing and there was a time before that when she was a student at the acclaimed University of Iowa Writers’ Workshop.

 

Pulitzer-prize winning author Jane Smiley with husband Jack Canning at Opening Night luau on August 31, 2012.

It was this kinship over our Iowa roots (although Jane was born in Los Angeles and raised near St. Louis) that led me to ask her questions about her writing process at the first Spellbinders’ Writing Conference in Honolulu, Hawaii at the Hilton Hawaiian Village that is concluding on September 3, 2012.
After “1,000 Acres,” a retelling of Shakespeare’s King Lear story set on an Iowa farm, was made into a movie with Jessica Lange, Jason Robards and Sam Shepherd, Jane Smiley moved on to write “Moo,” a humorous tale that dealt with politics at the university level. She told a charming story that went this way: “I was flying from Monterey to New York via San Francisco and I fell asleep on the flight.  One hour into the flight, I woke up to the sound of laughter. My seatmate was reading “Moo.” I said, “That’s my book.” She said, “No, it isn’t. I bought it in the airport.” I said, “No, I mean, that’s MY book. I wrote it.” She looked at me and said, “No, you didn’t.” Her laughter was the best compliment I ever got.”

 

Jane Smiley at luncheon on September 2, 2012.

Asked about her years as a Professor of writing at Iowa State University in Ames, Iowa, Ms. Smiley said, “I did enjoy it. When we let them in, we explained it was NOT the University of Iowa (in Iowa City’s) world-renowned Writers’ Workshop. About one-fourth of them said, ‘Oh!’ (with disappointment in her voice). But most were engineers and engineers are used to doing their work. I’d give them writing exercises, like, ‘Eavesdrop for 3 days and then come to class and read what you’ve heard.’ That was hilarious! Or, ‘There are 3 beings in the room and something happens.’ Some of them would write about 2 people and a dog. It was really more fun than work.”
When asked if she would ever consider teaching writing again, Smiley responded, “If I could do it MY way, I’d teach again.”
When asked how it felt to learn she had won the Pulitzer Prize for Literature (in 1992) she said: “My 14-year-old daughter was staying home that day. She was at that age where it is absolutely impossible to have any positive impression of her mom. A reporter from the Ames ‘Tribune’ called up and said, ‘What would you say if you were told that you’d won the Pulitzer Prize for fiction?’ I gave her some generic response.

Jane Smiley, reading from her book, “Thirteen Ways of Looking at the Novel” during her conference presentation at Spellbinders’ Conference in Hawaii.

About 2 p.m. the phone rang and some guy from the Washington ‘Post’ called to tell me I had actually won. I said, to my daughter, ‘Honey, I think I won the Pulitzer Prize’ and she said, ‘Hmmmm. Cool.’ Later, in the hallway outside my office at the University, I heard someone screaming, and it was the stringer for the Ames Tribune. They (the Ames Tribune) had scooped the Des Moines Register, who had always scooped them. But, after you win, you go from being a wannabe to a has-been.  You are no longer cool—although I never was. I was 16 weeks pregnant at the time, so I didn’t have to run around and go to a lot of things, because I was throwing up all the time, anyway.”
On writing, in general:  “You can be the kind of person who enjoys the process, or you can be the kind of person who enjoys the awards.  If it enhances your feeling of being alive, of finding things out, remember that there are never enough awards.”

Asked to assess her effect on the lives of others, the self-deprecating Smiley said, “I never think that way. I cannot experience myself from outside.”
Truly a class addition to the Spellbinders Writers’ Conference in Honolulu, held from August 31st to September 3rd, 2012.

 

 

Spellbinders Writers’ Conference in Hawaii on September 1st, 2012

I have come to the lobby of the Hilton Hawaiian Village to reflect on the first day of the Spellbinders Conference in Hawaii.

Gary Braver.

For me, it began with Gary Braver’s presentation on writing genre fiction, a truly excellent one. I had wanted to attend his presentation at the final Hawaii Writers’ Conference, but it filled quickly and this Boston-based college professor and author shared much useful information.
That was followed by a panel with Jon Land (author of the Caitlin Strong series), the author of the Batman graphic novels (I’m down here without my program, so forgive me for being vague), F. Paul Wilson and Gary Braver, again. This was truly a good panel.

Jon Land,author of the Caitlin Strong novel series.

 

 

 

 

Kaui Hart Hemmings, author of “The Descendants.”

The young woman you see being interviewed during the lunch break (lunch was great!) hit the jackpot with her very first novel, which was made into the film “The Descendants,” starring George Clooney. Kaui Hart Hemmings is currently working on a novel set in Breckenridge, Colorado.
The lunch program said that Tia Carrere was to be interviewed during that period of time. Instead, here is James Strauss interviewing a movie director. Nobody at my table caught the movie director’s name, but that’s immaterial and secondary to the fact that he definitely is not Tia Carrere.

 

Author Jane Smiley, winner of the 1992 Pulitzer Prize for her Novel “1,000 Acres” and me at lunch in Honolulu at Spellbinders Conference.

My lunch table included Jane Smiley and Jack Canning, who met when he was contacted to do some work at her house in Carmel. At the time, Ms. Smiley was going through a divorce. Enter Jack. Later, I attended her panel discussion and she shared some passages from her book “13 Ways of Looking at the Novel” in which she read bezillion great works of literature and analyzed them for such things as, “How much of the novel is taken up by exposition?” (A:  10%). “At what point should the denouement begin?” (A:  90% of the way in.) It was a very interesting and informative panel, and I was glad I was an English major in college, with PhDconcentration, or you could definitely be left in the dust very quickly.

After lunch, the panel on which I presented–all of us basically the “lesser lights.” (It was not well attended)

“Women Who Can Do It All” panel in Hawaii at the Spellbinders Writers’ Conference.

 

 

 

 

 

After Ms. Smileys panel, F. Paul Wilson spoke about characterization and point-of-view in genre writing. Author of the Repairman Jack novels, after 15 years of writing the series, he is ending it. I gave him a copy of “Hellfire & Damnation II,” but I fear he will find it lacking. From what comments he made, he is an exacting taskmaster and will be pickiest on those things I do most poorly. Nevertheless, he is in possession of a copy of my newest short story collection, and perhaps he will take pity on a rookie like me. Although I wrote 3 volumes of “Ghostly Tales of Route 66,” they were works for hire and I had little leeway in including language not

F. Paul Wilson.

suitable for a 10-year-old. Plus, I had to lay out the book, which is asking for trouble. Nevertheless, I drove the route in 10 days, wrote each 18,000 page book in a week, and did the best I could under the most adverse circumstances.  “Hellfire & Damnation,” the original short story collection, was damaged by an unscrupulous sort who stole 3 of my short stories at the moment of truth, putting them in his own collection without any permission to do so. I had to quickly run in some of the “G-rated” ghost stories, and the collection suffered. “Hellfire & Damnation II” is a better collection, plus it has pictures, although I do admit to liking a few of the original collection’s stories, such as “Confessions of an Apotemnophile.” (Apparently, the Berkeley Fiction Review liked that one, too.)
Next came the luau, which was quite festive. The fire baton twirler deserves kudos. The drinks for the event, however, were outrageous, at $6.50 for 2 Diet Cokes and $22 for one white wine (in a plastic cup) and one beer. It did not appear that the bartender was doing much business, as a result. A light sprinkling of moisture ended the night for most of us, with another full day tomorrow.
It is also the celebration of the Queen’s birthday and Iolani Palace will be open.

The luau crowd watches in amazement.

You can never have enough pictures of a fire dancer.

Fire dancer at Spellbinders’ luau.

What else—? Hula dancers at the luau.

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