Interviewing Daredevil: The Hypothetical Process

I've been watching many interviews about Daredevil. I could keep tally marks of all the questions repeated across the board.

- You play a blind character. How did you prepare for that role? Was it difficult?
- You're part of the Marvel universe. Do you think you'll be part of the Avengers? Will be Avengers make appearances in your show? Who will be included in season two? What about such-and-such?
- What would you like to see happen in season two?
- (At cons mostly) What was your favorite scene to perform?
- In your opinion, who is the hottest female superhero? (don't get me started on that one)
- Did you read comics when you were growing up?

The interviewer in me wants to go "Just do your freakin' homework and don't ask the questions that have been repeated a dozen times!" But then the journalist in me really starts to think, and I realize that (like serial articles) you have to interview and write as if your audience knows nothing about the subject. So, all those basic questions will be asked as a baseline for the other questions. And, knowing that, I want to turn around and ask the interviewer: "What do you really want to ask?"

We all have those little questions that bubble inside when we watch episodes or interviews. Silly ones that never get into the actual interview, or at least never get recorded or aired. Mine, in particular for Charlie Cox/Daredevil, is: "Did you go around writing giant Zs over everything when you wore the black mask costume?"

Think about it. ;)

(Follow-up question would be: "Did you grow up with images of Zorro in the U.K., or is that just an American thing?")

But then... if you work for an entertainment medium (site, magazine, show, etc), you have to assume that your audience is somewhat knowledgeable about trends. And Daredevil should be recognizable enough that most viewers already know he's blind. And it doesn't take much thought to determine how the actors would prepare for such roles. The studio would hire a consultant who would temporarily train the actor in key points about being blind. The studio would hire a personal trainer who would kick the actors into shape (or, in Elden Henson's case, eat a bunch of doughnuts). The actors would also dive into the comics to learn as much about their characters as possible, then learn which angle (in terms of authors; Frank Miller vs. Brian Michael Bendis vs. et al) the studio is using to determine how to portray the characters properly. Knowing that should enable the interviewer to break away from the standard questions and concentrate on something different. Can you imagine how happy the actors would be to encounter something different?

So what else would I ask?

- You are now a recognizable figure in the fandom world. How has your daily life changed because of this? For example, are you stopped more often by fans on the street? Is your daily routine interrupted often, or are you still able to go through your day without incident?
- Similarly, your promotional tours are much larger than ones from other smaller-scale productions. How much time are you able to spend at home between traveling for interviews and shooting the new seasons?
- Charlie, how did you physically prepare for such a strenuous role? What, specifically, did you do to embody Matt Murdoch? When did you begin the workout sessions after gaining the role?
- Now that you've tucked a season under your belt, what, if anything, are you looking forward to with your character in season two? Are you planning to explore or play with any aspects?
- Charlie, you were selected from the Boardwalk Empire lineup to play Daredevil. What other roles, if any, helped you to prepare for your portrayal of Daredevil?

I imagine that interviewing for something like this is a weird balance between wanting to interview the actor as a person, and the actor as a representative for the show/franchise. More often than not, the actors are answering questions on behalf of Netflix and are limited to what responses they can give. Usually, you can notice a trend of the first time an answer is given (which is full of pauses and filler utterances and stammers as the actors figure out what to say and how to say it). Over time, as the question is asked repeatedly, the actors develop a script. Then they must determine how to respond with the same answer but in different ways, as if that was the first time they answered, and as if it was the first time they happily said, "That's a good question," to the same old thing.

I want to get them away from that script. I want to get to the person under the official mask.

I wonder how to get a job in an organization that would allow the questions I want to ask...

Writing Gripes: The Flash: Season 2 Episode 1

Warning: Spoilers ahead.

Disclaimer: I love The Flash. It's a great show and a wonderful foil to Arrow. That doesn't mean it doesn't have gaps in the writing.

Ok, Flash writers, so let's think about this for a moment. You have a Meta Human Task Force. Most people don't know who the Flash is. You have half of Team Flash working for or related to the police department. And you have the core members standing in the middle of a busy precinct office floor, throwing around Barry and the Flash's names in conjunction with each other. Don't you think one of the other observant officers will overhear their normal-volume conversation and realize who the Flash is? I don't care that he's about to get a key to the city. Keep that secret on lockdown. You made them careless, and an officer, mad scientist, and a journalist cannot be careless. The fact that there were no consequences to that tiny conversation shows no follow-through on your part. It's the little things, people, that help us to maintain our suspension of disbelief.

And speaking of that secret, why isn't he keeping his face and voice hidden anymore? With facial recognition software, he can't be seen around officials. Does he not care anymore, is that what you're trying to say?

Also, Ronnie and Dr. Stein. There was a great to-do about how they're connected and can sense one another. You split them in the first ten minutes of the episode and treat it like Ronnie died. And yet, you have a connection to him right there who can confirm whether he's still around, somewhere. You don't explain whether that singularity would separate that connection. And yet, if one dies, the other dies, and clearly Dr. Stein is still alive. So why are they grieving?

This is easy stuff to fix.

I have fallen in love...

... with a scene.

:)

The realization occurred while driving to work today. I drafted a new novel for NaNoWriMo this year. It prompted a conversation with my best friend and her husband about where our stories come from. Usually if I'm blocked, I'm get a pen and paper and handwrite, and that helps the words to emerge. There is something satisfying about handwriting a story. Some people have said that it's because the action is closer to crafting than typing is. Others just like the tactile sensation and find it easier. And last year, I would have agreed (and still do). But this year, the pen blocked my words. Each time I went to write, the words started coming faster and I just couldn't keep up without resorting to typing. When that happened, the words just flowed out of my fingers. And now when I get in the mood to write this story, my fingers start itching... like I need a fix. My best friend agrees that her stories come from her ears because she transcribes what she hears. Her husband says his stories emerge from his arms and down his hands like Wolverine's claws. Upon further serious interrogation, he maintained that statement. So okay.

And because of that flowing through my fingers, I was able to write a scene--one I'd been avoiding for a few days during NaNoWriMo because I reached a point in the extensive chapter and couldn't figure out what my characters would do. The block occurred at "...you girls need to make a hard decision." And then I couldn't decide. After taking some time away from it and expanding earlier chapters, I returned to the block, jotted down a couple extra details, and forced my characters to act. I explored options within the main character's narration, such as "If she does this, I'll do this, and then I'll have to do this afterward, but if she does that, then I'll have to do that instead, and then we'll be in a new mess."

And I thought, "Okay. If I make them run into the house, they'll have to follow through with talking to the police and my main character can't hide from them because they'll want to talk specifically to her to get her testimony, and then they'll recognize her and take her away. And that will kill the story. But if I make her run into the woods, the guy will have to follow her, and then what?"

Well, then they'll run into that pesky troll from earlier.

And then the troll will react because his territory was invaded.

And there will be HUGE conflict.

But it will also pull things together nicely and give that troll more of a character, establishing trust between him and the main character and setting the foundation for future events.

So I said, "Okay," and wrote it. In fact, it's the chapter that helped me win NaNoWriMo because I just couldn't stop typing. I wrote half of that 12,000+-word chapter in one night and stayed up WAY past my bedtime (I had to work opening shift the next morning) just to finish it. And I was quite fond of it when it was finished, and quite proud because of how well it established and solidified the story.

That was about a week ago. It wasn't until today that I realized I was in love. And do you want to know why?

Because even though it contains magic, the scene is real. It's a real-life scenario that just happens to deal with supernatural powers. And I'm not talking high magic. Just grounded stuff. Subtle. It's the kind of scenario that readers may imagine if they were placed in a similar situation and also had powers. The girl does everything that we, as readers, would imagine doing--and still fails. And it's that failure that makes it real. It's all the desperation, gritty details, and inclusion of outside world consequences that make it real. It's also a turning point in two new friendships/alliances, a deepen of characterization for three characters, and a moment that forces the main character to make a much bigger decision than just how she'll get away from a guy who's chasing her, pushing her to meet another conflicting character and, ultimately, her counterpart--which will kickstart everything else. It is a key, pivotal moment for the whole story. It is the beginning of the end of one life and the start of something new.

And I LOVE it. It caused a hiccuping sensation in my chest like my heart literally changed places or skipped a beat. It caused that jolt when you realize that what you feel for someone/something is so much more than what you initially thought. It reaches further into your life and connects to the deepest part of you. I never thought I'd feel that way about a scene. Because really, it's just a sequence of words. And yet there it is.

And I really hope that it will stick around. That no change in the story will cause a huge revision/rewrite and cause me to delete the scene. That the old revision rule of "kill your darlings" won't apply to this one.

And I really hope that when the final draft is out and published, you all will love it, too.

Job Prospects? What Job Prospects?

Within the past two months, I have applied to a handful of assistant editor and associate editor positions at publishing companies. These are the types of positions that scare me, the ones at Penguin Random House and Amazon and Simon & Schuster in New York City--the ones that will inevitably be the best kind for me. I have heard nothing from them. The nearby Half-Priced Books has a full-time bookseller position that I interviewed for earlier this week. The pay starts at $8 an hour, with full benefits, and after six months it increases a certain percentage, which can continue to increase depending on performance. There are also quarterly bonuses and a Christmas bonus, and between 20-50% employee discounts on certain items in the store. Everyone there is a nerd, and I'd love to work around books again and talk to people about stories and movies every day. I am still waiting to hear back from them regarding either an acceptance or a request for a second interview with the store's manager. If I don't hear from them by the end of the week, I have to call.

I finally heard back from a nearby literary agent. I've been trying to get an unpaid internship with a Pittsburgh-based agency for... almost a year. Every season I message her, and every season she comes back saying that there are no slots available, and to try "next semester." There's something to be said about persistence, something that might get me a slot in the end, but I'm starting to feel as if I'm being strung along. And with the recent Black Swan ruling concerning internships, I don't know if I'll be able to get one with the literary agency in the end. It's basically a job that someone could be paid for, and because I'm not in school, they may not allow me to work there. However, it is an area about which I am not completely familiar, and so furthering knowledge might be reason enough to let me in. Regardless, if I get the HPB position, I'll probably be around town for a while yet. And because the store is open all the time, and the position is at least 40 hours a week, I might be able to not work in the store for a day and use it instead to work in the lit agency's office (which requires office work at least once a week and the rest is remote). But of course... there is no saying right now.

And the funny thing is that I can't really complain about all of this on Facebook because my friend Renee beat me to the punch months ago. She got her master's in... folklore or teaching or something like that. She wants to be a teacher, and so applied to a bunch of positions. A staggering amount. After a while, she had to return to work at Giant Eagle because she wasn't finding anything else. Finally, she got a community college position that she's thrilled about. But throughout her half-joking complaints of "No one wants me! Why don't you like me? No one wants to hire me? Etc.," we were all answering with "You're amazing! You'll find something! Surely someone will see how awesome you are." And now that I'm going through the same thing, I keep thinking of her posts and wanting to echo them. I won't, of course, but it's kind of amusing. The good thing is that if I don't get hired at HPB, I still have a year's worth of unemployment benefits as long as I continue to submit applications and resumes. So there's that.

I've started working on a couple new writing projects. Novels will always be in process, and I managed to think of a scene continuation in a story that I haven't thought about in years. And I'm slowly adding to my NaNoWriMo novel. But I've also started a short story that required research into mining canaries, and a nature writing piece about my grandmother and a little bird at my apartment (I think I've officially decided to call the piece "Old Bird" for the double meaning). The problem with the short story is finding plot for actual scenes instead of a monologue. And the problem with the essay is finding a theme with depth and universality, one that isn't "saccharine" or "sentimental," which many nonfiction literary magazines expressly forbid in calls for submissions. So I can't just reminisce about events--they have to mean something and all tie together. My teacher-friend from Chatham who cover Environmental and Nature Writing agreed to help out a little. She's insanely busy but sent information and samples regarding braided essays. I still have to read through them (because of trying to write a review that's due this week and read a book that's due very soon), but will eventually. Still, it's nice to know that teacher-friends will help out even if you're not a student anymore. :)

It's a Writing Life for Me

I entered this summer expecting to sit and write everyday. I have time! Loads of time! All I need to do with write and read and it'll be awesome!

Somehow, that didn't happen. And then unemployment woes kicked in. Those have recently been corrected, or are at least in the last stages of being corrected. I applied to a few out-of-state jobs and marked them on that paper, so UC can't yell at me for not searching. And I have other jobs from LinkedIn that I'm going to apply for. One of the applied-for jobs was a freelance proofreading position, which I didn't get because I missed spelling errors and other problems, apparently. That's a kick in the gut. I half-joked that I would begin reading the Chicago Manual of Style and the dictionary every day, and I might start soon.

Camp NaNoWriMo (the second camp session for the year) was this month. My goal was to revise November's novel project and add 25,000 words. I'm barely over 9,000 with about seven days to go. Great... Luckily, I'm back to writing everyday again (which was the whole goal of joining the camp this month), and I've revised up through chapter four and completed chapters five and six. Six was almost an entirely new chapter, with only a paragraph or so pulled from Later Scenes. But now begins a harder task of keeping track of new material when I'm pulling from that separate document. I can't count the words that were already written, and yet... that's basically what I'm going to do. I'm going to strive for that 25,000 mark. Maybe even go above that. And when I paste in the story for verification, it'll probably be over 50,000 in the system. I just have to keep writing.

The last week of this month is crazy busy. I have a proofreading session of Pittsburgh Quarterly to finish by 1 p.m. Sunday but am also having a Girls' Day Out on Saturday. I'm halfway through writing a recent review and it's due on the 31st. And I wanted to get a head start on next month's second review, but haven't been able to read because of all the writing and proofreading.

But it hasn't all been the grand literary life. I realized that if I want to stay on my career path and become the person I want to be, not only do I have to continue writing and sending out submissions, but I also have to move. Pittsburgh, for all its artistic glory these days, has a woefully small publishing market. I need to move away if I want to get back on track. I suspected that Michael would follow me soon after I moved, depending on my destination. He joked that he might follow if the city was interesting.

I discovered yesterday that, no, he wouldn't follow me. That was a kick in the heart. He's building foundations in Pittsburgh because of the budding markets and likelihood of being funded for projects. He wants to remain here, and I can't. We talked about doing a long-distance relationship for a while, but now that plan is problematic.

His life coach wanted to meet me and we went for a joint session yesterday. It turns out that what I thought was a comfortable, healthy relationship was actually full of uncertainty on Michael's part. He wants to know where we're going, and is convinced that a long-distance relationship will eventually peter out. Meanwhile, he's all for trying it. I can't quite understand that because he's also not willing to get married. Neither am I, for that matter. So it's basically a damned if you do, damned if you don't situation--unless I want to give up my career dreams and find some menial job around Pittsburgh just to remain in the relationship. And that just... is crappy. Especially if we're not in love, and especially if we're not working toward one day getting married. I won't go into any more details about it, because it's incredibly complicated and terrifying.

I suspect that all this uncertainty came from the life coach. He doesn't understand how our ambiguous relationship has worked for three years. Most people don't, actually. That's why he wanted to meet me, to better understand Michael's life and see where we  both are coming from. But I worry that him asking questions and providing the ideas to establish decisions resulted in Michael asking questions. I was wary about visiting the life coach specifically because I didn't want him to drastically change our relationship, and that's what's happening. Michael joked when he came back into the room after I spoke with the life coach alone. He said, "So, are we still dating?" Later in the session, I asked him that same question.

I still can't answer it.

Judging a National Contest and Finding a Mini-Me

Again, I've encountered a situation that illustrates how hard work and chance encounters can create amazing opportunities.

To explain: I have two long-term friends from elementary school: Jess and Ethan. Jess I've known since Brownies (girl scouts) even though she went to a different elementary and middle school (but the same high school). Ethan I've known since elementary school. We've always been aware of each other, always nice to each other, but more acquaintances than friends. He's the kind of guy whom everyone liked. He always wears a smile. Always.

No, really. Always.

There's even a legend about him: One day around seventh or eighth grade, jock bullies were making fun of him for being so happy and smiling all the time, so they kept trying to find ways to get his smile to falter. Finally, they punched him in the gut. The smile faltered, but never left Ethan's face. His reaction, though one of pain, shocked the bullies and ever since then, they left him alone and showed him some respect.

I'm not sure how much of that is true. I should ask him.

Anyway...

Hard work. In my case, it was building a solid foundation through tiny actions that always, in some way, reinforced my potential and my future. Working for two campus lit mags, interning for a  publishing house, interning for a city magazine, earning a BA and MFA in writing, always reading, writing reviews, becoming a legit columnist, becoming an editorial assistant, becoming an unofficial review editor's assistant (that title doesn't exist, but it's basically when I'm doing until Weave can get a full-time review editor). Basically striving to maintain a successful literary career.

Chance encounters. After graduating from high school, Ethan and I lost touch until a few months ago (nearly 9 years later). We accepted friend requests on Facebook, exchanged comments... the typical stuff. Then a couple weeks ago around midnight, he randomly messages me by saying: "I know this is random, but..."

He proceeds to ask me if I'd be willing to judge the middle school level literature entries for the PTA Reflections Contest. For the national round. That alone made me freak out.

The PTA Reflections Program is a national program centered on developing a passion for art--be it traditional art, performance art, literature, or music composition. It's a BIG DEAL, but apparently not all schools participate in it. You win in your school, go on to a regional round, then a state round, and then a national round (if I have that order correct...). Then someone at the Library of Congress (I think) picks the grand prize winner.

I had won first prize for poetry during fourth grade. Just for my school, though. The poem was one I'd worked on for a few weeks and incorporated schools lessons about monarch butterflies into. It apparently made people cry. It wasn't as if I'd intended any emotion. I just wrote about the images in my head, as if the universe told me what to write and I dutifully typed everything down. The only purposeful part of it was the butterflies. So, riding on that win, I entered again that following year and didn't place. It was disappointing, but okay. That first place win the year before was the first time I'd won anything. But, alas, at some point over the subsequent years, we lost the winning poem. We have the trophy, the certificate of achievement, even the folder and the losing poem... It's heartbreaking that I can't remember the poem, there were no copies made, and I'll never see it again. Because, of course, digital copies weren't being archived until a number of years after fourth grade. And, apparently, the PTA is only allowed to keep the poem for three years and then it's scrapped.

It should be known that when we requested a copy during fifth or sixth grade, the organization wouldn't give it to me.... siting something about copyright that even at the time seemed wrong.

Well, Ethan knew about this because we'd talked about it a few weeks before he messaged me, when he posted a picture of all the other category submission CDs. So going off that and what little he knew about my literature life (just that I was into it), he asked me to judge.

It's as if everything came full circle with this contest.

I have 48 entries to go through by April 15. It seems like it should be more (one entry per state per grade), but apparently not all the entries were submitted. Odd... Basically, my top picks will go to that final person for the grand prize, national winner.

When he asked me to help him (because a position opened up that needed to be filled immediately), Ethan had no idea what I do during what is technically my spare time. He was astounded when I told him why April is a busy month for me: reviews, review editing, full-time job, literary event evenings, concerts, Weave submissions, and now contest submissions. Oh, and dancing lessons--that's another new development.

The process itself is intriguing. I have to look for raw talent. There's a rubric, of course--an educational assessment must always have a rubric... Interpretation of the theme, artistic merit and creative merit (which, for literature, is about the same thing anyway), and technical merit. I must be aware that many winners were picked based off context, not technical writing rules. They won't have a firm grasp on grammar, nor will they have a solid understanding and execution of craft. But talent is talent, and if something is freakin' amazing, then it doesn't matter how old that kid is. But because of the technical merit, the delivery can't be completely atrocious.

It is very interesting to hop between Weave submissions (wherein I'm looking for the best of the best) to contest submissions (wherein "best of the best" is a lot more lenient but still applicable.)

While going through submissions, I've already found a poem that blew me away and thus received a perfect score. And I found a different entrant, a girl, who's basically a mini-me. Her poem is the exact kind that I used to write in high school, when I'd sit at a computer during free time in a physics lab and let the universe tell me what to write. Lots of inspirational, abstract, and broad ideas. Corny. Amateurish. Not much thought involved. I made dozens upon dozens of those poems. And this girl wrote something that fits into that collection.

She won't win, but I posted on FB about how I want to hug her and provide reassuring words:

• Keep writing. 
• You'll  be great one day. 
• Don't give up. 
• I was just like you once. 

Well, Ethan saw that post and told me that he's planning to make a blog that enables judges to send messages to the students who submitted. And yes, it would be awesome to write that girl an official message of support and reassurance. 

So that's my big update of the month. I'm still in shock that it's happening.

Editorial assistant, and a stalled writing life

When compared to other writing friends (some of whom are currently at the AWP conference), I feel as if I am failing as a writer. They just seem to write more than I do, or do more literary activities than I do. This past week, in particular, has been especially hard because I've wanted to write, but my brain couldn't decide what to work on: first person present tense for my thesis story, third person past tense for my NaNoWriMo novel, or undecided POV and tense for a short story/novellette. The words are there, but they're trapped behind a brick wall and I can't even pry them out through the cracks. I've even slowed down reading books, except for a handful of thin poetry books from Autumn House Press. Even then, I needed a break from them after a few nights. 

But things aren't all dismal. I was recently appointed the editorial assistant for Weave magazine, a print literary magazine that concentrates on dark humor, magical realism, the strange and fantastical, realistic narratives in fiction and poetry, strong and well-developed characters as well as flawed ones, dynamic female characters, retellings of old stories and fairy tales and myths, the playing of language, women authors and characters, LGTBQ authors and characters, diversity, community... and... well... a bunch of really cool stuff. It seemed like an extremely good fit for me. I met the creator at a Bridges conference at Chatham recently and through talking with her and going through the application process, I got the job! It's non-paid but that's okay. On the literary panel at the conference, the panelists said that in order to maintain a job in publishing, you have to volunteer to read the slush piles and help out. Once you get a few of those jobs under your belt, along with some official internships, you'll be more likely to be accepted in a paying position elsewhere. 

I should get around 10 submissions a week. This week was 17 because about seven of them were pieces that had been already accepted. I had to read them in order to get a feel for what the comments on the side were like (in Submittable) and what stories they tend to accept. It will be interesting. I finished all the accepted ones tonight. Here's hoping I can read most of the pending submissions tomorrow to catch up. 

Also, Mike has read most of my thesis. He's taken to reading for an hour or so on Saturday mornings, when he has some quiet time while I get to sleep in. He's almost 3/4 of the way through. He hasn't said anything about it yet, though. But, this is a start. And he says that it might not be a habit, because you can't count something as a habit if it's only done two weeks in a row. Maybe three weeks. It is almost a push for me to continue working on either that story or the NaNo one so he has something else to continue of mine, but that might be hoping for too much. If it took him this long to read something relatively established... getting him to read a WIP is a long-shot, and he has so many other books to get to anyway. It would be nice if Saturday mornings became his official reading times, though. 

Warning: Passive-Aggressive Facebook Rants May Result in Opportunity Returns

"The Sheltering Sky" by Paul Bowels is an agonizing 10.5-hours-long piece of existentialist fiction. The audiobook was narrated by Jennifer Connelly, so I figured that it had to be good if an actress of her caliber liked it enough to read it aloud. According to the summary, she even said of it: "Paul Bowles's writing is so extraordinary, so special. The landscapes are magical, the characters are questioning so much--it's haunting in a very beautiful way." Okay, that got my attention.

Its summary also claims that the book is "a landmark of 20th century literature, a novel of existential despair that examines the limits of humanity when it touches the unfathomable emptiness of the desert." Well, okay then. It caught my interest. And with the main characters "finding themselves adrift in the cities and deserts of North Africa after WWII," it just adds to the intrigue. For all intents and purposes, this should have been an interesting read, especially because I took an Existentialism and Phenomenology course while I was still an undergrad, and went on to minor in Philosophy (among other subjects). I thought it would be nice to slip back into the subject through fiction. A well-known philosophic writer, Milan Kundera, is always fascinating (once you get past the obsession with promiscuous women, virile men, sex, and cheating), so I figured that Paul Bowles might add a touch more plot to a story and use the philosophy as a subtle foundation. 

I settled into my car, turned on the audiobook, and fully expected to be drawn into a haunting world that would ease me into the depths of myself and leave me there, pondering.

But the book pissed me off and I cheered when I finally finished it. So what did I do afterward? I took it to Facebook, of course! 

Ok, I'm not one to rant about a book on here. Usually, one or two sentences if something is really striking. But I can't help myself this time. Paul Bowles, I hate your story of "The Sheltering Sky." Every character is deplorable and despicable. You don't understand women at all. Your novel is existential, sure, but wow... Your main female character is weak, a slut, accepts rape without much defense, and is so bipolar that she gives women everywhere a bad reputation.

Admittedly, what I did is considered to be a passive-aggressive "mini-rant." What good could possibly come from the post? At the most, I could dissuade any friends from reading it. I would even consider that to be a job well done, if it worked (turns out, a co-worker wants to read it specifically because of my rant). 

And yet! Something entirely unexpected happened. 

I should backtrack.

In any business, you often hear the phrase: "It's all about who you know." People will obtain promising opportunities based almost entirely on who they know--who can make something happen for them. In my case, it's not so much that as it is building supports for a bridge that I'd already crossed. 

I write book reviews for an online literary magazine. The site mostly posts about reviews and blogs, but it also holds poetry chapbook contests. My reviews are occasional, but they're still legitimate online publications. And it's a lot of fun to contact publishing companies, request a copy of a novel for a review, and receive it in the mail for free. Who knew? It's a bibliophile's dream.

I obtained the position of fantasy/sci-fi reviewer because I had interned for the site's umbrella company, an independent publishing house. I had already written a couple reviews for a separate, local online literary magazine, told my boss about it, and he offered to give me a shot at writing for his online review. It worked, and here I am. And we've managed to maintain a stable, professional relationship through Facebook. 

When I wrote that Facebook mini-rant, I figured that people would either agree, disagree, or not post comments at all. And when I saw that my boss liked the rant, I smirked and then thought nothing more of it. But a moment later, he messaged me. 

And here's where things really get interesting. 

His words were so wonderful, so inflating, that I almost couldn't believe they were happening. He said he loved my rant and asked if I would write a blog about it (NOT this one, of course) for the online review. He wanted me to "disembowel" Bowels. He wanted me to use the same flip, irreverent tone. He wanted me to make a "hatchetjob" of it. He said that not every book should get a positive review, that some "classics" deserve to be ripped apart. He then complimented my writing and the work that I've submitted to him, and said that he's looking forward to the blog. He also gave me until March to write it because I already have a review due to him by February 1.

And after the conversation finished, I sat back and realized how odd and unexpected it was. I mean... you post an angry rant on Facebook and you expect people to be like, "Oh... another passive-aggressive rant that does nothing." Not this time! This time, it enhanced my career. And this time, I can't just drop a hated story and be done with it. I have to mull over it and keep notes for a 1,000-word officially-published blog entry. I have to stay angry in order to maintain the right tone. This should be interesting. 

Although this event is not an indication that passive-aggressiveness is good, it is an indication that a well-written, passive-aggressive post from a book reviewer might catch the attention of an editor with whom she's friends. So, I guess it is about who I know. And it's also about making informed opinions, and taking presented opportunities.