The Superpup Effect...

Years ago, I bought a copy of a movie called "Bela Lugosi Meets a Brooklyn Gorilla." It was dirt cheap, and with a title like that, how could I not? So I brought it home and started to watch it. I got maybe fifteen minutes into it before I had to shut it off. Didn't even get to any scenes of Bela Lugosi. One of the two main characters spent the entire time doing a bad Jerry Lewis impersonation that grated on my nerves like nails on a blackboard. Eventually it got to the point where I just couldn't continue. And so the DVD sat around for years, collecting dust, and I hardly dared to look at it, much less try to watch it again.

Flash forward to a couple of years ago. A friend of mine loaned me a boxed set of Superman DVDs. In addition to all the mainstream Superman movies, it was loaded with special features and obscure stuff that most people had never even heard of, much less seen. Among these things was a failed pilot called "The Adventures of Superpup."

Adventures of Superpup was conceived because George Reeves had killed himself (or possibly died under mysterious circumstances, if you've seen Hollywoodland) while the Superman TV show was at the height of its popularity. And in the wake of this tragedy, the network executives proceeded to ask one question: "Is there any way we can keep making money off of Superman?" There were still a bunch of sets left over from the show. There were still a bunch of kids who wanted to see Superman, and would pay big money for whatever cereal he endorsed. So a pilot was produced, and that pilot was The Adventures of Superpup. It used whatever was left over from the Superman TV show, only instead of people the show was about dogs. Played by little people wearing dog masks, with character names like "Bark Bent" and "Pamela Poodle," who were reporters for the Daily Bugle.

If you're thinking that sounds awful, you don't know the half of it. It's physically painful to sit through. I could drive myself half mad trying to comprehend exactly what any individual person involved in the production of this pilot could possibly have been thinking at the time, but I'd really rather not give it any more thought than I have to. Suffice it to say, this was a terrible TV-watching experience.

So after this abomination was over, I went over to the shelf where my copy of Bela Lugosi Meets a Brooklyn Gorilla was sitting, virtually untouched for a good seven or eight years. I popped it in the DVD player and proceeded to watch it, beginning to end, without so much as a cringe or a flinch. Up until that moment, it had been the worst cinematic monstrosity I had ever seen in my life. But now suddenly, by comparison, it wasn't all that bad.

I call this the Superpup Effect. When you endure something so abysmal that anything else seems fully tolerable, almost easy, by comparison. Frequently accompanied by the assertion, "Yeah, this is bad... But hey, at least it's not as bad as Superpup!"

A Strange Affliction...

There's something that happens to me every once in awhile, that I just can't explain. Honestly, there are a number of things that happen to me that I can't explain, but this one in particular stands out at the moment. It's a very minor issue, not like a disease or terrible hardship. Just an oddity.

Every so often--from a few months to a couple of years apart--I get the overwhelming urge to watch the movie Lucky Number Slevin. Most of the time, I'm only barely aware that the movie exists (I assume this is the natural state in which most people exist with regards to this film), and can go ages without giving it a single thought. But then all of a sudden, I think to myself, "Wow, I really want to watch Lucky Number Slevin!" Which is not such a terrible thing, I guess. There are plenty of much worse movies I could watch. It has Morgan Freeman, Ben Kingsley, and Stanley Tucci in it, after all, not to mention Lucy Liu. But what makes it so strange is that... I was only moderately entertained by the movie the first time I watched it. And it's not one of those movies that gets better and better over time, either. I still find it only moderately entertaining. I'm also not a big fan of Josh Hartnett.

But for some inexplicable reason, every once in awhile, I just feel like I have to watch the movie. And it's not a particularly easy task. I don't own it because, as I've said, it's only an average film at best. It's not available for Instant Viewing on Netflix, it's not a film they show on TV very frequently, and it doesn't appear to be on YouTube in its entirety, like a lot of films are. I always check, just to be sure.

I suppose I could pay to watch it on Amazon Instant, or put it at the top of my Netflix queue and watch it in a day or two... But it never seems worth it, because, much as I want to watch it, I know in my heart it's only a mediocre movie. So I usually end up not watching the movie. I just bear with it, and eventually the feeling passes.

The very odd thing is that this overwhelming, inexplicable urge is how I ended up seeing the movie in the first place. Before the film's release, I saw the trailer and it looked pretty stupid. I promptly forgot all about it. Then, awhile later, a few weeks after the movie came out, I suddenly said to myself, completely out of the blue, "You know, I should totally go see that movie!" And I was really excited about it, too. So I paid to see it in the theater. It was OK. And I promptly forgot about it again, until maybe a year later, when I decided I really wanted to watch it a second time.

It kind of makes me wonder... Did this ever happen to me BEFORE the movie Lucky Number Slevin came out? There have been plenty of times in my life when I've really wanted something, but had no idea what it was. Could these have been early manifestations of Slevin Syndrome, that my brain just didn't know how to interpret, because the movie hadn't yet been made? I think this would be an issue worth considerable pondering, if I were ever to take up getting stoned.

So anyway, the other night, I happened to be flipping through the channels, and I noticed Lucky Number Slevin was about to be on, so I DVR'd it. And now I'm thinking of watching it. And thinking... "Meh. It's not really that great of a movie." Guess I'll just keep it around until the inevitable Slevin Syndrome sets in again...

I did a guest blog post!

I'm moving up in the world. Other people are trusting me to give expert advice! Check out the awesome Clare Davidson's blog, wherein I talk a bit about character development: how to do it, and why it's important.

http://www.claredavidson.com/blog/839-tuesday-writin

Clare is the author of the Young Adult novel Trinity, and does Writing Tips on her blog every Tuesday, as well as other cool and interesting things throughout the week. Check her out.

Ad Infinitum...

I love the names of the air conditioning companies I write articles for. Some of them are just, "So-and-so's Heating and Cooling," or "Such-and-such Air." But some of them are more interesting: Things like "Aggressive Mechanical" or "The LBA Heroes." There's usually a story behind them. Or if there's not, I make one up, for my own amusement.

One in particular, though: It's a Corpus Christi Air Conditioning company, and they call themselves CCAC. So what does CCAC stand for? Go on, guess. Try.

It stands for "Constantly Concerned About Customers." Yes, that's their actual name, I imagine it goes on their tax forms and everything. It turns out, CCAC USED to stand for "Corpus Christi Air Conditioning," as you would think... But then the company came under new management, and they changed to Constantly Concerned About Customers." Except, since the new name doesn't actually indicate that they're an air conditioning company, for clarity's sake they stick "Air Conditioning" on the end of the name and call themselves CCACAC.

It seems to me, though, that this sets their company on a slippery slope. If they changed their name based on their initials once, what's to prevent them from doing it again? Then they might become, "Comfort, Caring, Absolute Consistency, And Charisma." Which STILL doesn't have Air Conditioning in the name, so they'd have to be CCACACAC. Which would then lead to a name like, "Calvin Coolidge's All Canadian Acrobatic Clydesdales Across the Congo." Which doesn't even imply anything to DO with Air Conditioning, so they'd have to call themselves CCACACACAC.

This could literally go on forever, and eventually they would collapse under the weight of their own initials.

The Plethora of Ideas...

A thought that never ceases to amaze me: There are ideas everywhere. Literally everywhere. Seriously, look behind you. There's an idea there right now. I wasn't going to say anything, because I didn't want to embarrass you, but... It's been sort of hovering over you for awhile now. Thought you might like to take it and do something with it. Looks kind of like a short story to me, but you may decide to turn it into a novel, or maybe a TV pilot. You could even turn it into a painting, a scientific theorem, or a political speech if you want. Who am I to say? It's your idea, after all. Do what you want with it.

Since there are ideas everywhere you turn, where you get your ideas depends entirely on where you spend your time and what it is you're doing. For myself, I've been writing about air conditioners. I mentioned in my previous blog that some of my research had given me an idea for a murder mystery. Other research has yielded ideas for space travel and superhero stories. About air conditioners. That's just what research does. It sparks creativity and gives you ideas.

But it's not just the research. As I said, I ideas are everywhere. The titles they give me for my articles. The names of the companies I'm writing for. A couple of months ago, there was one called Cypress Creek Air. And I thought, "That's going to be the title of my next play." Why a play? I don't know, just sounds right. What's it going to be about? Haven't a clue. That idea is still out there somewhere.

Which of course raises the issue: There may be ideas everywhere, but are they all GOOD ideas? Well, that's subjective. Ideas themselves are rarely good or bad. What matters is the person having the idea, and what they decide to do with it. In the hands of, say, Ridley Scott instead of Ed Wood, Plan 9 from Outer Space could have been a brilliant sci-fi thriller. Or maybe not.

Same goes for my own ideas. I have high hopes for my air conditioning murder mystery, but I seriously doubt that my Cypress Creek Air stage play will go on to be at all successful or even very good (I started to outline a basic plot; it didn't work). Sometimes (if you have the luxury), you just need to cut your losses on an idea and move on from it. Maybe a few months or a few years down the road, you'll come back to it with a fresh perspective, and everything will start fitting together. Or maybe it won't. But don't worry about it. Something else will jell better, and you'll turn it into something great. After all, there are ideas literally everywhere.

What you DO with those ideas, is up to you.

The wonders of research...

Freelance article-writing requires a lot of research on a lot of random topics. As a consequence, I end up learning a lot of things on topics I was previously only vaguely aware existed. Types of area rugs. Investment banking. Air conditioners. Some of it is really interesting. Some of it's really, really not. But as a writer, I live in the hope that this knowledge will someday prove useful in a future story. I currently have in the back of my mind an idea for a murder mystery wherein the pertinent clue involves a knowledge of air conditioning repair.

Anyway, here's a fun trivium my research has shown me:

We all know that duct tape is extremely useful and handy to have around. The virtues of duct tape have been extolled throughout society. Whole books have been written on what you can do with duct tape. I once had a daily calendar of duct tape anecdotes, how-to suggestions, etc. Some people say it can do anything.

They're almost right. There seems to be only one thing that duct tape cannot do. Somewhat ironically... it can't repair ducts. It loses its adhesiveness and lets air leak out underneath it.

But just about anything else...

So apparently I have a blog...

Several years ago I started at least two or three different blogs, in different places, with the intention of using them to post stories and serial fiction. It never really worked out that way, because by the time I would have a new story to post (and remember to post it) I found I'd forgotten not only my username and password, but also what site the blog was on in the first place. So I'd have to start a different blog, in a new place. Mercifully, this didn't go on for TOO long, because I quickly realized that the whole blog thing wasn't working out after all. Fast forward to the present. Over the last few months, I've been doing a lot of freelance writing. Some of it is really interesting, some of it is kind of funny, and a lot of it is just plain weird. So I've been thinking again, "You know... I really should have a blog, to document this experience." There are a whole bunch of random anecdotes and observations I'd love to share about the life of a freelance writer. But up until now, I never really got around to it, because I remember all my previous problems with posting blogs... Which brings us to today. I wanted to post a reply to someone else's blog, and it told me I could do so with my Google account. So I did... and above my comment, it lists a name. Not my name, but one I recognized, if only vaguely. It was the name of a blog I'd started, all those years ago. Evidently this was one of the places where I started a blog and never followed through. Now here it is again. And it's connected to my Google account, which I have no trouble remembering or accessing. So I guess I have a blog. Maybe I'll use it to post all those wonderfully droll observations I've had on the life of a freelance writer. Or maybe I'll forget all about it and let it languish for another four years. Only time will tell...