Week in Seven Words #562

This covers the week of 10/25/20 - 10/31/20.

deadlines

The assignment drags into the night. At one point I picture myself shutting the laptop, sliding into bed, and forgetting about deadlines. A peaceful thought, but not a realistic possibility.

initiative

On vacant private land, a homeless man is assembling a home. It won't be long before it's torn down. In the meantime, he's brought in materials from other neighborhoods and set up an unsteady shack with tarp. Several feet from it are a barrel and a bucket, some canvas bags and a shopping cart.

nemesis

During two weeks of staying shut up in her apartment, her most exciting moment, she reports, was arming herself with bug spray and a Marble notebook to hunt down a large roach.

profuse

The leaves on the thornless honey locust trees are a vivid yellow. One fountaining yellow tree after another, the pavement spattered in bright leaves.

realism

"For Halloween," he tells me over Skype, "I'm pretending to be an alcoholic." He has a mostly finished bottle of whiskey on his desk, in full view of the camera.

transporting

The idea of buying a house appeals to him much more than the reality of living in one, maintaining it, and cleaning it. So he goes on Redfin and stares longingly at a ranch house in Lancaster, PA that he'll never buy. Because the floor plan is online, he pictures what he would put in each room and wonders whether two recliner chairs would fit in the tiny screened porch.

virion

I spot a kid dressed up as COVID-19, what the virus looks like under a microscope. It's a costume both funny and depressing.

Two Very Different Movies Featuring a Science Fiction Script

To be clear, neither of these movies is science fiction. But in both of them, a sci-fi script plays an important role.

Title: Bowfinger (1999)
Director: Frank Oz
Language: English
Rating: PG-13

Bobby Bowfinger (Steve Martin) is a middle-aged, low-budget Hollywood filmmaker down to the last of his money. His ambition is grand, but his prospects are depressing. He has a stellar script – "Chubby Rain," which is about aliens that arrive on Earth in rain drops and take control of people's minds – but to finally enjoy his big break, he needs a celebrity for his film. Kit Ramsey (Eddie Murphy), an action movie star, fits the bill. Kit, of course, won't give the time of day to someone like Bobby Bowfinger, so Bowfinger takes the unconventional approach of filming the movie with Kit, without Kit knowing he's in it.

It helps that Kit is secretly delusional and paranoid (about aliens, among other things). What also helps is Bowfinger's faithful cast and crew, and the fact that they find Jiff (also played by Eddie Murphy), a dorky pushover who looks remarkably like Kit and could help with closeups. (One funny moment in the movie is when Jiff casually mentions his connection to Kit, and you see everyone's reaction.)

Bowfinger is funny and ridiculous. It's also a biting commentary on some aspects of Hollywood culture. There are no romantic relationships, only the opportunistic seductions enacted by Daisy (Heather Graham), and the driving action involves multiple major deceptions.

That said, the film can still be oddly touching. Bowfinger's cast and crew include Carol (Christine Baranski), who commits to her role as if Chubby Rain is high art, Afrim (Adam Alexi-Malle), the screenwriter who hopes to quit his accounting job, Slater (Kohl Sudduth), a young and not especially bright young actor who just wants to see himself on-screen, and Dave (Jamie Kennedy), Bowfinger's loyal camera operator. Plus the illegal immigrants Bowfinger rounds up from the border who get a crash course in movies and wind up doing quite well for themselves.

So even though it pokes fun at Hollywood and big celebrities, Bowfinger doesn't really get dark. It doesn't delve too deeply into all the dysfunctions of celebrity culture and the powerful, unscrupulous people who operate in it. It's about second chances and happy endings, at least happy from the perspective of the characters, who stay afloat and get to make another film. (The title of that masterpiece is "Fake Purse Ninjas".)

Title: Please Stand By (2017)
Director: Ben Lewin
Language: English (and some Klingon)
Rating: PG-13

The best thing about this movie is how it conveys someone's passion for telling a story, and the genuine love, hard work, and commitment that go into writing. The main character, Wendy Welcott (Dakota Fanning), is a young woman with autism who is a devoted fan of Star Trek. She prepares a submission for a Star Trek script competition, and when it seems like she won't be able to mail it in on time, she decides to travel to the movie studio and deliver it in person.

Were various plot points a bit of a stretch? Sure. In some ways Please Stand By is also a light movie. Although things don't go smoothly for Wendy, the movie keeps an underlying positive tone. She encounters some people who are criminal, obnoxious, or indifferent, but she's also able to depend on the kindness of strangers and the dedication of her caretaker, Scottie (Toni Collette). Even her sister, Audrey (Alice Eve), who has been keeping a distance from Wendy pulls through for her.

The parallels between Star Trek and Wendy's real-life adventures are present but not overdone. The universe of Star Trek, and some of its relationships, make sense to Wendy, particularly when it comes to the hero of her script, Spock. (Full disclosure: I haven't watched the original series with Spock, but I have watched large chunks of The Next Generation, Deep Space Nine, and Voyager, where characters like Data, Odo, and Seven of Nine are outsiders who wrangle with the difficulties of human interactions and emotions.)

Wendy's script writing turns into a way for her to connect more with others. In all, this is a movie with good acting, some genuinely moving scenes, and a memorable depiction of how intense writing can be and how worthwhile it is to write.

Week in Seven Words #505

This covers the week of 9/22/19 - 9/28/19.

cramps
Curled up on the couch with intense cramping, waiting for the OTC painkiller to kick in. My feet swivel in time to the pulses of pain, and I try to let the murder mystery novel I'm reading distract me.

curiosity
She shows an interest in Revolutionary-era Boston, after I show her an image of Samuel Adams beer.

drub
In the back room of the board game cafe, the wall is scuffed and dented. A small sign hangs on it, asking customers not to kick it or bang on it with their fists.

hoard
I find a notebook for her, in light blue and decorated with hot air balloons, in which she'll probably want to write the poems and song lyrics she isn't yet ready to share with anyone.

tidying
I clean my shoes and donate some boots, towels, and pillow cases. Under the couch, I find dust clumps that look like small gray wigs.

unquiet
She's trying to find a chair, or configuration of chairs, that will suit her. She slides from one to the other. She chooses a middle seat, before scrambling back to settle against the wall. I don't think she'll find anything she likes, because the discomfort is embedded in her mind. She can't uproot it by means of rearranging chairs.

unthinking
She's frustrated that they don't consider a cold to be an illness. They take no care to cover their mouths when they cough or sneeze.

Week in Seven Words #490

blaring
The cafe is cozy, dimly lit, with a decor of dark wood and cream. What kills the atmosphere is a large, loud TV mounted on the wall, the people on it yammering away.

blunting
The splinter doesn't hurt so much, because it has lodged in a callus.

directs
The wind stirs the pages of her speech, as if reminding her to look away from the words and at the audience.

encouraging
Hearing good feedback on a draft of my novel sweetens a week of painful, worrisome symptoms.

hydration
A teenager takes a swig from a large bottle. "Water is the best f*cking drink," she says. "It's my best friend."

panels
One man gives a lecture on confronting viewpoints radically different than your own. Another holds a discussion group that reminds me of sitting around in a dorm room at 1 a.m. pondering the meaning of life.

topics
We haven't seen each other in a while, so over pizza we have a short, intense conversation that we try to pack with all kinds of important things – family, politics, cultural differences, the tendency of pigeons to crap on roofs and balconies.

Week in Seven Words #485

celebratory
We sit at our own table, each of us with a little heap of food, including shawarma. At one point, a man with a sonorous voice sings "Hatikvah," and that's the highlight of the evening.

charmer
He normally has little to say, but with so many ladies around, he becomes more lively and charming. He shares cheesy, non-threatening jokes and plays up how nice he is to his mom.

critique
The day is damp and unexpectedly cold. We meet at a pizzeria and sit at a sticky table, where I read through her writing. It's full of twisty, creative ideas and sparks of humor. But it needs more patience. She likes telling the reader everything upfront about a character's background and personality, when some things should be discovered more slowly.

irritation
Phone calls to three different offices to deal with an insurance claim rejected because of a paperwork error at a doctor's office.

planting
The eggplants go into the ground in bright green shoots. Each plant gets its own mound, where it's tucked in for the next stage of growth. One woman presses her fingers to her lips and caresses the leaves of the ones she has planted.

suckers
They hand out lollipops to struggling students. Your grades may have tanked, but at least you get to saturate your mouth with artificial cherry flavor.

yoga
Contorting into different positions. I'm not sure how this is supposed to be relaxing. Ow, my back.

Week in Seven Words #473

catastrophizing
My mind is gripped by the potential mistakes, the possible costs, the hypothetical scenarios where things go terribly wrong.

chary
It's a social event where no one is at ease. People are sizing each other up, suspicious and assessing.

enclose
A homeless man has set up a small room made of blanket walls by the doors of a supermarket.

examining
Giving more thought to a chapter that portrays a slide towards despair, a character contemplating an end to her life. I check that I'm writing it with sufficient care.

hand-to-hand
Looking both embarrassed and proud, he talks about how he allowed himself to get really mad and fight a few other men at a subway station, just because he needed to relieve stress. I had never pictured him as the type to let off steam through physical combat with potentially lethal repercussions, a situation where someone could end up knifed or knocked onto the third rail.

lackadaisical
We aren't having a conversation, just taking turns talking. The topics drift and leave little impression.

untainted
A clear, crystalline day when the air seems to come from a fresh spring untainted by car exhaust and sidewalk garbage.

Week in Seven Words #469

clop
I don't understand the appeal of a carriage ride in the park. The horses look depressed. The ride won't even show you the best sights.

decades
They've been married for 30 years, and there's a 20-year age gap between them. Their wedding took place when he was in his 20s, and she was in her 40s.

habits
One of the main points of agreement among the dozen or so people around the table is how difficult it is to change a habit. It's great to hear about the different approaches people take to uproot an entrenched pattern of behavior or thought. The strategies include introducing a new habit to supplant the old one, speaking out loud to yourself, and keeping track of progress in a journal. Outcomes vary, with reports of progress, backsliding, futility, triumph, vigilance.

materials
Where to even start with this essay. He's gasped out a couple of sentences. Copy and pasted a bunch of links into the file but hasn't read them yet. Come to think of it, that's a start of sorts. We can work with what's there.

mysterious
We cut through the park about an hour after sunset. I like how alien it feels. The rock formations look like gigantic creatures curled up in sleep. The skyline glitters like a computing device. People emerge into lamplight and lose themselves in shadow soon after.

plans
He shows me the blueprints, the promise of a home remade. He tries not to think too much about the bureaucratic red tape and the noise and messiness of construction.

tracking
At night, we walk past the large, arched window of a museum. A marble statue, turned mostly away from us, still seems to peer at us from the corner of its eye.

Week in Seven Words #455

carpal
Two large stores that sell tons of electronics and related accessories, but no wrist rests for typing and no plans to stock any. I begin to wonder if typing is going out of style, somehow?

droppings
As if she's a dignified statue splattered in pigeon crap, she doesn't respond to the contempt they show her.

emending
When editing another person's work, I have to carefully strengthen the text without changing the author's voice to my own.

gardening
A glaring sun, the relief of the wind, weeds among the basil and old tomato plants.

jumbled
Her essay is disjointed, as if she has dropped it on the floor, gathered up the broken pieces, and spread them out on paper. This is what an early draft often looks like.

mollified
Though she's usually late, she usually brings cookies, so all is forgiven.

volunteer
She periodically flies in from the Netherlands to volunteer around NYC and write about her experiences. It's an interesting way to observe some of the social dysfunctions in the US and the civic or altruistic efforts in response.

Week in Seven Words #430

canine
An impromptu playdate for a couple of dogs. One of them shivers on his owner's lap. The other is a little rocket of a dog, testing the limits of his leash. They sniff at each other for several minutes.

cheering
I receive a book by mail from a friend. She calls me inimitable.

degraded
The problem with these political conversations isn't the agreement or disagreement. The problem is that conceding anything or introducing nuance is considered a personal defeat and a betrayal of "your side." The assumption underlying each conversation is that you're aren't going to achieve a greater understanding. It's that you're going to do everything to destroy the other person, and that includes relying on underhanded tactics such as misrepresentation. Don't listen closely or think too much, just attack.

formations
Rocks are mounted up the sides of the reservoir, with ducks squashed into the crannies, their heads tucked into their backs. Pods of turtles blend in with the rock.

grouping
With peony robes and flickering fans, the girls rehearse a dance show at the foot of the hill.

mineraloid
Magnolia blossoms, before they open, look like mineral formations.

sprouted
From the soil of the first draft, a second draft has emerged. It's thin and in some places sickly, but shows promise of fuller color and foliage.

Week in Seven Words #410

curtailing
On a walk down the dark path, I hear the rat traps popping by the side of the building.

enchantment
Leaves are spiraling down, swirling around my head, and a bright moon is peeking past the edge of a skyscraper.

fueling
One chocolate chip cookie helps him through math. The second cookie remains uneaten, and he has poked his pencil through it in frustration.

one-time
I don't know what else is going on in their lives or if they'll even be back next week, but I appreciate that they're here now - a group of men and women playing folk music in the waning light.

rapport
I like how she and I slip into easy conversation as if we haven't not spoken for several years.

slackening
Now and then, I dose myself with an episode of Brooklyn Nine-Nine, a show that's funny and undemanding.

tectonics
The assignment moves towards completion, one paragraph after another. The paragraphs sometimes shift position for greater flow and cohesion. It's a slow but inexorable process.

Week in Seven Words #406

costuming
She dresses up as a flower and fits her small, black dog into a bumblebee costume. Then she holds him in her arms for most of the evening.

disturb
On my way to a meeting, I walk by a display window and see a T.V. with a news chyron displaying a report of shots fired downtown. I keep walking, wondering but not wanting to know, not yet.

frappé
His own little rebellion against having to do grammar exercises is to try to include the word 'frappé' in each sentence he writes.

glossy
These are cold streets full of rectangles of steel and glossy items on display in rows of windows. It's like walking through a catalogue.

insufficiency
He has lost the thread of his lecture. Forty-five minutes in, he's still giving us the introduction. Meanwhile, the audience has started taking over. They don't just ask questions; they begin to share personal anecdotes that aren't always relevant. The lecturer limits himself to echoing their thoughts.

sporting
Basketball players in a congratulatory bundle fill the train car with laughter.

uncanny
The park is awash in a deep pink sunset, the color of cheap candy or cough medicine. A rat climbs a soldiers' monument where usually only people and pigeons roost.

Week in Seven Words #397

casually
Babies can be so nonchalant. This one has a cold, and without pause, she sneezes straight into her dad's face, then continues peering around and reaching for things.

characterization
"This time, it's going to be different," he says, "I'm going to write fiction that has characters. I mean, they're going to be like people this time."

diffuse
The number of people at the table makes it so that there isn't any pressure on me to speak; at the same time, I'll have someone to talk to (and something to talk about) when I choose.

dodge
He senses the pressure placed on him to read the words, to make the effort exactly to the adult's specifications, and he ducks behind his phone.

fluttering
She holds her troll doll in the air to watch the wind comb through its hair.

recuperate
The first night is rough, because my throat is raw and painful. The next day passes on wobbly legs. Then the second night comes, and with it, thankfully, a deep, healing sleep that helps so much.

riparian
We walk on a sandy path by the river. It runs like a thread through needly pale green shrubs.

Week in Seven Words #371

bursts
Several adults are squashed together at a picnic table. They shout, sing, and jump up to make backstroke swimming motions. One of them pretends to ride a horse. They're playing Time's Up, round after round.

delicacy
The stationery store reminds me of a candy box. I buy a couple of gifts for someone and linger over the glossy, gold, silver, pink papery confections.

disjointed
Walking a couple of miles at night. The streets look like they were sloppily glued together. The sidewalks have ruptured. The buildings leak. On one street, the strongest light is from a supermarket window papered over with ads for detergent and ham.

entertainment
In one room, the kids make silly videos with their phones. In the other, the adults seethe at the cable company over service disruptions.

overlooking
I can remember details from conversations that took place months or years ago, but I'll step into a home I visit regularly and not notice new furniture arrangements or a large new shoe rack by the door where I'm just now placing my shoes.

screen
The high school students walking alone are stone-faced and wear earbuds. Some hold their phones a couple of inches from their eyes.

sprung
I stare at the screen for minutes without knowing how to finish the paragraph, but as soon as I get up to run errands, everything - the paragraph, the whole article - comes to me.

Seven Short Stories I Should Have Read with Coffee

It was International Coffee Day recently, and though I don't drink much coffee, maybe it could have helped with the short stories here. These are short stories I liked but wasn't sufficiently alert while reading them. (And I took few notes.) They're also tricky in different ways - they might depend on a slippery narrator or express something frustrating and undefined just out of reach.

Title: The 5:22
Author: George Harrar
Where I Read It: Boston Noir 2

"The simple question 'What if?' could lead to so many disturbing places."

Walter Mason, a researcher at MIT, is solitary and sticks closely to routines. His daily commute doesn't stray from its schedule. Then, on one of his train rides, he notices a woman who's wearing a scarf. When the wind blows it aside, he sees she's missing an ear. In the course of the story, the woman disappears from his commute, and one day the conductor who's always there doesn't show up either. The train also misses his usual stop.

The shake up to his routine is unsettling and creates unease. But it could wind up not affecting his life much. Or maybe it will nudge him towards something better. Moments that appear inconsequential can call for courage and have a profound effect, like taking a chance to talk to someone instead of stare at them.

Week in Seven Words #350

account
Prayers, exuberant songs fill the synagogue. In the back, a woman who has a mental illness is bent over a book on her lap. Occasionally, she says something that sounds like, "But, but, but..."

emboldened
We brainstorm stories, and she becomes less timid with her ideas. She's worried that what she writes will somehow be wrong. The idea of mistakes not even mattering in a draft - that anything can go into a draft - is delightful to her.

grounds
We discuss repentance and how to keep it from becoming self-flagellation. Repentance is oriented to practical action - acknowledgement of the wrong done, and sincere efforts to make amends and to make changes to future behavior. Self-flagellation pushes people into purely emotional territory, where they give themselves up to their own sense of wrongness and get stuck in it.

recess
The front steps are the place to go for downtime. If there's a spare half-hour between meetings, and the sun is out, settle down. The narrow street before you becomes the world for a while. Read, close your eyes, maybe hope for an interruption from someone you like.

retrieval
For a moment, I think it's a real dog, dead or injured and floating in the river. But it's only a stuffed animal. Soon after, a boy comes running with his younger sister following. They find a short, spindly branch by the river bank to haul it in.

serenity
It's a peaceful evening, the clouds stitched to the sky in threads of peach and light blue. The wind carries sea salt on its breath. Leaves are murmuring overhead.

sloganeer
It's tacky to put the names of politicians on a kippah. But he likes to turn himself into a walking ad for his favorites.

Week in Seven Words #349

channel
Like many kids, he doesn't like writing. If only there were a program that could instantly convert his thoughts into coherent paragraphs. Instead, he has to grind the point of his pencil into his notebook and dig up each word.

divvied
One of the most companionable kind of dinners is when you and your loved ones demolish a pizza.

exponentially
When we've almost arrived at the solution to the math problem, I realize we could have done it in 27 or so fewer steps...

habitual
One sign the dog is on the mend is that she's getting yelled at again for eating toilet paper.

reunion
They spot each other at opposite ends of the room. One of them laughs, and the other flies across with arms reaching.

self-diagnosis
An insect bite of indeterminate origin. Should I worry? Half the sites say yes; the others tell me no, probably not.

throb
They're at a bar, and the beat of the music fills the space between them, helping them delay a conversation they'd rather not have.

Week in Seven Words #336

bistro
Cold dishes, AC pouring down on us in syrupy chillness.

disquiet
When I arrive, the first things I hear are "Hey! There's a large horsefly around, and it bites. See, this is where it bit me. I was bleeding. No one knows where it went. So, how are you? Why are you just standing there? Sit, relax."

possible
On the heels of a first draft, plenty of doubt. But a healthy sort of doubt, one that invites new considerations instead of feelings of futility.

pursuit
In the pool, he pretends to be a seal, and his dad is the killer whale hunting him. The other kids play a more straightforward game of tag, ducking among pool floats and getting caught and tossed around.

queued
A response to my recent breakup: "You aren't dating someone else yet?"

sanguine
He's lost a finger to DIY fireworks, but says that one of these days he'll get the hang of them.

unconsidered
He shares stories from camp, mostly involving counselors and camp administrators exercising poor judgment. One of these golden moments involved a man roaring in on a motorcycle to terrify the kids as a joke. (The cops didn't find it funny.)

Week in Seven Words #335

blot
I don't always know how an author's life will affect the way I react to or analyze their work. Just sometimes, the knowledge interposes itself between the work and me. The literary merits may still exist, but with the shadow of the knowledge on them.

extent
People have a village mind and vote on global issues.

glide
What she does on the diving board isn't diving; it's flying. She throws herself into the air with a faint smile. She's just as much at ease in the air as in the water.

masked
She sets up a doll schoolroom, where her doll, equipped with tiny books and pens, pretends to be stupid.

prominency
She's over six feet tall, and has trained herself to be less intimidating by smiling and laughing a lot. She's also been advised to give up high heels but has refused so far.

savings
They're sweating and shivering as they wait in line at the bank. The loss from their account is only a glitch, they hope, easily reversed.

tremulous
The ghost stories we share become explorations of what we're really afraid of - the fears that we hesitate to speak on the off-chance they'll become true.

How do you write about the city? On "Here Is New York"

I read E.B. White's "Here Is New York" for Deal Me In 2017.

White wrote this sprawling essay in the 1940s. NYC has changed quite a bit since then, and was changing moment-by-moment even as he was writing about it. That quality is something he tries to capture in the essay - that even as he sits alone in a stifling, hot room, all the city’s activities swirl around him.

A poem compresses much in a small space and adds music, thus heightening its meaning. The city is like poetry…

What I liked best about this essay is how it shows the challenge (futile, perhaps, but worthwhile) of trying to tackle a subject as big as the city. White is trying to capture what the city is and what it means to people, but there’s so much of it, so what does a writer do?

He approaches the city from different angles - making observations about various groups of people, neighborhoods, the way you can remain fairly insulated from major events if you want. He’s trying to throw a net around a massive fish, and in the dark it struggles and eludes capture. Now and then he records glimpses of its body and sometimes clues as to what it is as a whole, but it slips away.

(These are issues general to writing - what details do you focus on, and what do you leave out? When is a work of writing complete?)

White glides from general statistics to descriptions of specific streets. He discusses a trend and tosses out an anecdote. He breathes the romance of the city and lays bare its darkness (“the cold menace of unresolved human suffering and poverty”). You get a sense of what the city is, while realizing that there’s so much you still don’t know. And I like how White does this - with the essay unfolding not so much as a walk, but as if White had wings and were hovering here and there, pointing things out, before going off to have a drink.

All dwellers in cities must live with the stubborn fact of annihilation; in New York the fact is somewhat more concentrated because of the concentration of the city itself, and because, of all targets, New York has a certain clear priority. In the mind of whatever perverted dreamer might loose the lightning, New York must hold a steady, irresistible charm.

Whatever the city is, humanity and its burning questions are caught up in it. (For instance, how can so many people live more or less peacefully in a cramped space?) He hopes that the city will endure. It must.

Week in Seven Words #316

astonishment
She's always struggled with writing, so it's with stunned pride that she sees her piece on the wall, winner of a weekly contest.

flashy
She hits replay on the music video (please don't let this get stuck in my head), and there it is again, the Vegas-style Egypt with a talking sphinx throne.

gust
Stirrings of hope and love, late at night. I encourage these feelings with a pep talk, like using bellows for a fireplace.

inactivity
It wouldn't take much for me to vomit. A sudden movement, maybe. I fold myself into bed on my side, knees to chest, and hope that sleep will ease the nausea.

incensed
As four of us play Monopoly, she sits apart, a few feet from the TV, to better shout at the pundits and politicians.

ripply
Floating on "Dreams" by The Cranberries in breaks between assignments.

surrender
Critical thinking, he assures me, is impossible. There's even a script for giving up on it. ("Other people are thoughtless and extreme, and I'm just reacting to them. They're making me do this. If they didn't, I wouldn't.")