Re-examining Progress in ‘Dallas Buyers Club’

After a tough few months for me personally, I thought it was about time to come out of blogging retirement. Hopefully, this post marks a stable return to the medium and I’m marking it with something a little different.

Two weeks ago I managed to get to the local cinema (in between soul-searching, job applications and toddler tantrums) to see Jean-Marc Vallée’s Dallas Buyers Club. The film itself is really excellent, and well-deserving of the spattering of nominations bestowed upon it by the Academy. At various times it is painful, unsettling and laugh-out-loud hilarious to witness the ever-pervading ignorance of humanity with the added benefit of hindsight. Matthew McConaughey is outstanding as the stereotypical rodeo-redneck I loved to hate and quickly hated to love. True, his character progression following a diagnosis of AIDs and approximate life expectancy of thirty days is pretty predictable, but is built methodically over the course of the film to a believable crescendo that ultimately forgives its triteness.

The character I really wanted to focus on in this post, however, is Jared Leto’s Rayon. Leto’s performance, taken out of context, I think many would agree is as good as McConaughey’s; it’s why he’s up for Best Supporting Actor next month. There has been, however, a backlash, particularly from the LGBT community and its supporters, that suggests this isn’t the whole story. Many, for example, have criticised the casting of a straight man in the part of a transgender person, denying many great trans actors the chance of precious work. The suggestion is, like many gay parts that have gone to straight actors in the past, the audience likes to see these characters on screen without giving credence to their real-world counter-parts. It’s like half-addressing a problem: giving the illusion that we have become a more modern, accepting society but nothing more.

I think my real issue is with Rayon herself (I note here, interestingly, that McConaughey’s character throughout the film refuses to accept her chosen gender). She is a composite character, meaning that she did not actually exist in the historical account of the story. Which begs the question, why did Craig Borten and Melisa Wallack feel the need to create her? As an amalgamation of several people Ron Woodruff met in his last seven years, yes, but why specifically a transgender person? The only legitimate answer I have been able to come up with is that, cynically enough, Rayon is nothing but a crutch. A yardstick by which we measure Woodruff’s growth. He aggressively forces an old ‘fiend’ to shake her hand in the supermarket, and we all cheer that he has turned a corner in his development. Like Ron, perhaps, the film appears to be progressive without actually being progressive.

There is one redeeming scene in all of this, and it has stayed with me more than any other for precisely that reason. Without wishing to spoil too much of the story, we see Rayon visit her father to ask for a loan. So as not to ‘embarrass’ him at work, she arrives in a suit, without make-up, and we finally see a little of her pain behind the horrific legions that now obviously scar her body. There is a hint of where she has come from, what she has had to deal with, and it’s beautifully sad to behold.

Of course, this is dwarfed by the scenes that precede and follow, but perhaps a few other audience members came away feeling the same way I did. I fear probably not, and this is my real point. Dallas Buyers Club has, with the character of Rayon, offered the world a pair of scissors to cut the lawn, when what we really need is a big ass mower.

A Change of Scenery

Again, two weeks have passed and nothing on the update front from me. This time, however, I do have a very valid excuse: I have been working! Congratulations, I hear you say, that’s great- you’ve found employment. You’ve made it. Well, no, not exactly. You see, I have actually been working (unpaid) in a school for the past two weeks, observing in their English department and actually taking part in a few lessons. Why? Let me explain, my friends, let me explain…

I, along with a vast number of University students studying arts subjects I imagine, have often found myself having variations on the following conversation:

Semi-Interested Party: “You’re at University? That’s great! What are you reading?”

Me: “English.”

Semi-Interested Party: “And what are you going to do afterwards? Teach?”

Me: “God, no.”

Clearly, arts subjects have no place in the ‘real world’, but that is a discussion for another time. The point is, my standard reply to the question of whether or not I would ever consider the teaching profession has always been a resounding no. Fairly recently, however, I realised that I didn’t really have any solid facts on which to base this instinctual aversion. I’ve watched friends trundle off to complete PGCE courses, and followed their progress avidly through social media, all the time disregarding that as a possible path for myself. But why? I felt compelled to justify my opinion, hence the work experience. I was expecting to hate it.

What I wasn’t prepared for, at all, was how much I really enjoyed my time in a classroom. Part of it, I’m sure, was the thrill of being on the other side of things (I was actually observing in my old grammar school, and a number of the staff had been my own teachers), but beyond that the experience was a profoundly positive one. I cannot deny that my ego was a little inflated the first time a student diligently copied a point I had made about a text into his notes.

Teaching combines two great loves of mine: communication and English. While ability in the latter can be proven with a degree, I believe that proficiency in the former is what marks a good educator apart from her peers. As you will no doubt be aware, English is mandatory for all students up to GCSE level which means there will be kids in classrooms up and down the country who simply do not want to be there. To instil in them just a little of the passion I have for the subject would be, I anticipate, both immensely challenging and rewarding in equal measure.

So, what does all this mean? Well, I am currently seeking further opportunities to gain experience before I apply for my own place on a PGCE course. I have made the preliminary decision that, because of my personal circumstances, a teaching career makes more sense than one in publishing. A long daily commute to the city (where the majority of the industries’ jobs are) is just not possible for me, quite apart from the fact that employment in that sector is so competitive that in all likelihood I would still be applying for jobs in vain several years from now. The fact I have so drastically changed my career plans also assures me that my heart does not perhaps lie where I originally thought. That is not to say that publishing is completely behind me. I would not be enrolling into teacher training until next September, which gives me a year to fill my time with other interests (and regular blog updates!).

So, watch this space. We shall see what becomes of it.

Critical Criticism

I have been meaning to update for a while, but other things seem to have gotten in the way so this morning I have forced myself to sit down and just write.

A couple of weeks ago I was granted what I class as quite a bit more responsibility by Inspired Quill’s MD. I suppose I should henceforth call her my boss, although I have also classed her as a good friend since we met as fellow members of Leicester University’s theatre society four years ago. For those who haven’t read my previous posts about this internship, I am currently doing some unpaid work for a small independent publishing house. Until recently, I have been chiefly editing two-chapter submissions that writers have sent in to try and negotiate a publishing deal. As these submissions have all been rejections thus far, their quality has been a little questionable. With the advent of the internet that has facilitated the growth of independent publishers such as Inspired Quill, I think it has become easier and easier to get published. Actually, that may be a short-sighted comment on my part. And that in itself is perhaps the problem, so let me rephrase. With the advent of the internet, and the growth of said independent publishers, writers believe it has become easier and easier to get published. Suddenly, everyone thinks they are the next J. K. Rowling (I use her as an arbitrary example of a successful author). There seems to be little quality control on the part of the writers themselves. As a result, I have had to read some pretty dire offerings. My belief is that a piece with potential can always be made better, but without the initial ‘spark’ of talent- something altogether unquantifiable in my opinion- there is nowhere to go. For more on this debate, I encourage you to watch the Kauffman brothers’ Adaptation, which deals primarily with screenplay writing but ultimately makes the same point.

In any case, my latest assignment was a pleasant breath of fresh air. I was charged with editing a piece that had already passed the initial submission stage. That meant that somebody had already seen the first two chapters, liked them, and asked the author to send the whole manuscript for approval. I now had the final decision (along with one or two others) as to whether or not we published it. I say the piece was a breath of fresh air because it was, technically at least, really quite good. When I had finished editing the first two chapters, there were significantly fewer changes than I was used to making. The author had clearly spent some time and taken some pride in his work, which I both admired and appreciated.

Unfortunately, I think this appreciation masked any criticism I would normally have about the content of the piece. Discussing the manuscript with my boss over Skype the following week, I actually found that she shared some of the reservations I had felt fleetingly whilst reading, but had dismissed as overly critical. It brought nothing new to the genre, rather reusing a tired formula to create a virtual carbon copy of what had gone long before.

Eventually, we decided to reject it, but I learnt a lot along the way. There is no such thing as invalid criticism. The books that eventually end up on the shelves of Waterstone’s are (usually) technically flawless, and reviewers still pan them. If I can find a fault with it, then they sure as hell will. 

Leicester ONE Award: Online Networking and Employability Video Presentation

Please click the Prezi’s title to view. Perhaps the file is too large, but (for me at least) it will not load as an embedded video.

 

 

‘Gone Girl’ by Gillian Flynn

In my last review of Lars Kepler’s The Nightmare, I said that it was not the best thriller I had read this month. That is because Gillian Flynn’s Gone Girl is the best thriller I have read this month. In fact, it may even be the best thriller I have ever read, and way up there on my list of favourite books. I wanted to go ahead and say that right at the outset, so that even if you read no further you are armed with a decent recommendation. I say unto you, go and buy it. Beg, borrow or steal it. Exchange an unwanted present for it. Heck, exchange a wanted present for it. However you get hold of a copy, just read it. I guarantee you will not be disappointed.

If I have not yet lost you, onwards!

Gone Girl is the story of Nick and Amy Dunne, a couple whose marriage is past the stage of going stale for a number of reasons. The seven year itch has, for them, come far too early.  So when, on the morning of their fifth wedding anniversary, Amy goes missing, Nick is naturally the prime suspect. However, as with any example of the genre, nothing is as it first appears.

The novel is written in the first person, told alternately from Nick and Amy’s points of view. The latter is provided in the form of diary entries; a very clever plot device that allows Flynn to chart the downfall of the Dunne’s relationship from before they met to the present day. The real achievements here, however, are the passages that follow Nick. He is what my GCSE English lessons would render an unreliable narrator of the absolute shrewdest kind. The reader, far from being Nick’s trusted confidante, is often as clueless about his true character as the police investigating him. One gets the impression that Flynn is having a good old chuckle at our bewilderment. Suffice to say, I was so caught up in deciphering the truth for the lies that I completely missed the twist until it slapped me in the face. And that slap really, really stung.

The prose itself makes punchy use of free indirect discourse in a big way. It keeps an even pace that somehow clocks just below ‘too fast’ so that I found myself finishing it in about a week (which, believe me, is no mean feat when working around a fourteen month old). The characters besides Nick and Amy are well-rounded, believable individuals and all seemed necessary. I have read novels before that throw extra characters into the mix just for the sake of it, but here everybody had a role to play and this usually involved revealing more about the Dunnes.

My singular qualm with Gone Girl was the ending. I wanted things to be wrapped up nicely: ‘the good to end happily and the bad unhappily’. In reality, of course, things are more often than not far more ambiguous and complicated than that and I suppose this is exactly Flynn’s message. I feel this is a book that I will be pondering for a long time to come, and each time I think of the ending I become just a little less resentful.

Needless to say, Gone Girl is a very impressive piece of fiction. It is cleverly crafted and makes fresh a familiar story. You will find yourself re-evaluating your moral compass again and again as your loyalties continually shift. Go with it. To leave that kind of impression is a very rare thing and one to be sought out at all costs. 

‘The Nightmare’ by Lars Kepler

This review is slightly odd because the novel in question is actually the second in (what is currently) a trilogy. This in itself is perfectly normal, except that I haven’t actually read its predecessor. What I will say is that this fact in no way negatively impacted upon my enjoyment of it. As far as I can know, there are no references to The Hypnotist (the first novel in the series) and although a number of the characters are recurring, they are reintroduced in such a way that this is irrelevant. So, as a slight disclaimer, I would probably recommend reading The Hypnotist before The Nightmare, but only for reasons of completeness and not necessity. If you find, as I did, that your partner is reading your only copy of The Hypnotist, buy yourself The Nightmare and enjoy it. Because it is immensely enjoyable.

The novel follows DI Joona Linna as he investigates two seemingly unrelated deaths: the first, a drowned girl with no trace of water on her clothing, the second, a man who hanged himself with nothing to stand on. Eventually, these deaths reveal themselves to be part of a much bigger picture concerning corrupt government officials and dodgy arms deals. There are also violins. A lot of violins. A terrible synopsis, I know, but there is little point in summarising a novel in a slightly different way from the countless summaries already available online. Suffice to say, the story holds its own across the four hundred strong page count.

It’s told exclusively in the third person present tense; a technique I don’t believe I have come across but one which proved really quite refreshing. There is a sense of urgency about the language, which is, incidentally, an excellent translation from the Swedish original. A number of the characters, both major and minor, have chapters all to themselves, which means that while the novel’s tagline (‘A Joona Linna thriller’) indicates the protagonist, we actually get a much more rounded story, told from different angles that are all tied together neatly in the finished product. On a side note, I have read a number of negative reviews that go to town with the reviewer’s dislike for Joona, which I think is unfair. He’s flawed, of course he is, because if he wasn’t the book wouldn’t be worth its weight in paper, but this is balanced with his genius. Joona has the ability find things in a crime scene that even his superiors miss, and this is why they put up what is, on occasion, a keen lack of professionalism.

The chapters themselves are oddly short. I say ‘oddly’ because it does seem to leave things a bit, well, bitty. The copious and frequent changes in time and/or space mean that nothing is very stable. This method does have its advantages- I can always finish ‘just one more chapter’ before real life calls- but I’m not entirely convinced. The one other significant issue I have with this novel is that it is set in Sweden, meaning that I, in my infinite ignorance, often found myself reading past place names or the ins and outs of the Swedish law enforcement system simply because I did not understand them. That in itself should by no means put anyone off reading it. Just have an atlas (or Google Earth) handy.

All in all, The Nightmare is not, by any means, the best thriller I have ever read. Nor is it even the best thriller I have read this month, but that didn’t seem to matter. It was an incredibly easy read, and I think there is something to be said for that. There are just enough twists and turns to keep interest without the need for the complicated whodunit tropes that seem so popular at the moment. If you are looking for a bit of casual escapism, this is certainly not the worst example the genre has to offer.

 

To be, or not to be (in this case, the latter)

I have had a few very difficult decisions to make over the past couple of weeks. Really, it amounts to one very difficult decision that I have been putting off and has subsequently bred smaller difficult decisions.

Back in April-May time, I made an application to the University of Leicester for a place on their Modern Literature MA. The course itself is just perfect: it combines modern and contemporary literature with creative writing modules, allowing you to undertake either a critical or creative dissertation towards the end of the year. Plus, it just to happens to be offered by the University where I did my undergraduate degree, meaning I would already know a lot of the tutors as well as the library and students’ union etc.

I was offered a place on the course, and my application was forwarded to the funding panel to decide whether or not I would be awarded a full or partial fee waiver. I had every digit crossed for the AHRC scholarship, which essentially means I would have the course paid for as well as being given a maintenance grant to compensate for the fact that I would be earning a grand total of nada for another twelve months.

To cut a long story slightly shorter, I failed to achieve any funding at all. The competition is, of course, fierce. The AHRC scholarship is given to one person across all four of the postgraduate courses in the school of English (if we guestimate that there are 20 people on each course, that equates to a one in eighty chance) but I was still bitterly disappointed. I would have to find £4,500 for the course, as well as forfeit a regular wage for another year.

Herein lies the difficult decision(s). My current domestic situation means that, for the foreseeable future at least, I will be the chief bread winner in our household. Even if I could somehow borrow the course fees from a family member, I simply cannot be selfish enough to force my partner and son to suffer financially whilst I pursue a postgraduate degree that, let’s face it, will not guarantee me employment at the end of it anyway. I have applied for a few part-time jobs in an attempt to have the best of both worlds, but to no avail, and the deadline for accepting my offer is fast approaching.

I am now, therefore, putting all my efforts into applying for a full time entry-level position in the publishing industry so that I can get a foot on that first rung of the career ladder. As yet, I will not be completely closing the door on postgraduate study. I have the opportunity to defer my offer for a year, which will give me the chance to gain employment and either raise the money needed for the course, or be in such a position that an MA is no longer the best choice for me. 

Company Branding and the Internet

Today, I have been looking at ways to improve Inspired Quill’s website. As I briefly discussed in my last post, the internet is an immensely powerful tool and while that tool can be put to good personal use, it is essential that businesses also keep up; promoting themselves across the World Wide Web in order to reach as many people as possible. For this reason, it is essential that a company’s website offers a wealth of information, presented in an easy to use format.

To start with, I had a good look at the website that IQ currently has. I wanted to see what the user experience was like for myself, and what better way to do this than put myself in the position of a visitor to the site? On the whole, it is very comprehensive. I found a couple of broken links that will need to be fixed, but the menus are simple to navigate, while information about the company and in particular, on the submission process, was easy to locate. The managing director is in the process of setting up a community area, but this is not yet present on the website. When it is up and running, it will provide a forum for those who read, as well as those who write, to discuss shared interests in an informal atmosphere. Along the same lines, I have suggested a resource centre, where IQ’s writers can post articles to help others with the process of getting published themselves. I also think a more detailed outline of the publishing process itself would be beneficial, to give visitors to the site an idea of what a manuscript goes through before we see it on the shelves.

I then had a look around at what similar independent publishing houses were offering, to see how our website could be improved. As far as visual design is concerned, I actually found IQ’s site to be far superior to a number of others that I visited. On the other hand, the feature that is clearly lacking currently is our catalogue. This is the part of the site where readers are invited to search for titles published by us that they may be interested in, and then subsequently publish them. As it stands, for a customer to publish a title, they are directed to an external provider who is then presumably paid a percentage for hosting our stock. Other companies, I found, cut out this middle man, and ran a script to allow customers to buy directly from them. In the future, I would like IQ to also be able to provide this service, and the MD has confirmed that this has been on the cards for a while.

I also feel that our catalogue could stand to be organised a little better. Rather than titles being categorised by author and by genre, as they are, these could be consolidated so that, in line with other publisher’s websites, they are organised by genre only. Then, on the page that currently provides information about IQ’s author’s, links to each person’s published works can be provided.

All in all, I’ve come to realise just how important a company’s website is, particularly in the case of a small company such as Inspired Quill.  Rather than being a secondary tool, for many, creating a website has become the first step in establishing a brand and so ensuring we keep up with the competition is absolutely crucial.

Social Media and Personal Branding

I’ve never been a great user of social media. Let me clarify: I know my way around a Facebook page, and I have been using that particular site for personal use for a number of years. I also have a poorly updated Twitter feed, and a Tumblr account in a fairly similar state. So yes, I have been a ‘user’, but as I said, not a great user.

The Leicester Award for Online Networking has drastically altered my perspective of social media. In this ever-evolving digital world, social media is a powerful tool just waiting to be harnessed. Personal branding is essential, in order to keep one step ahead of the competition, especially in our current stifling economic climate. When job hunting, I often come across companies citing knowledge of social media as a prerequisite for successful candidates. Knowledge that, until recently, I simply did not have. I swiftly decided to change this and enrolled on the ONE course. I hope I am making some headway.

For the first time, I have created a LinkedIn account. I see this as the primary site of professional networking. I have made a number of connections already and, although they are friends that I already know, I now have access to all of their connections. I will use this newfound network of professionals to find likeminded people in the publishing industry who I can then contact for advice on how to further my career prospects. I am also following a select few big companies in the industry, as I know how important it is to keep up to date on how it is changing. Their updates are an invaluable source of information that I can draw on at a later date, when making job applications. Companies are always on the lookout for candidates who stand out from the crowd, and an in depth knowledge of publishing will undoubtedly help me do this. Lastly, LinkedIn is the perfect place to search for entry level jobs. When I log onto my homepage, my news feed is full of jobs I may be interested in, based on my current sector of employment. On top of this, I have joined two groups tailored to people like me, looking for employment in publishing. Their discussion threads are continually updated by employers themselves who are recruiting.

This is also the first time I have consistently used a blog. It has forced me to really think about what I am doing, and reflect on this journey I am making and I hope that it will help others in a similar situation. Of course, writing regular blog posts is also improving my written communication skills, which are vital in the workplace.

I plan on creating a Twitter account, and actually using it. I have found that companies tend to use this site more socially, so I may find it easier to approach them directly in this medium than via LinkedIn.

All in all, I am widening my digital footprint and spreading my personal brand as far as it will go. In the future, I would like to be a famous blogger whose opinion is valued across the globe, but for now I am taking little steps in what I hope is the right direction.

And so it begins…

Today, I officially completed my first assignment as an intern for Inspired Quill!

My task was to edit a submission before sending it back to the author. To put this in context: Inspired Quill is currently a small, independent publishing house and as a result receives a far fewer number of submissions on a weekly basis than, say, Penguin or HarperCollins. Essentially, what this means is that each individual submission can have more time devoted to it, which is obviously a huge bonus for prospective authors. When we decide a submission is not right for us, for whatever reason, rather than sending out a generic rejection letter, we are able to actually edit that submission and show the writer exactly what he or she can do to improve its quality, and therefore, its potential to be accepted by a publisher.

I was quite happy to accept this as a first assignment, as I had never done any editing or proofreading before, and felt more comfortable working with a short, chapter-long submission than a whole novel. The latter is something that I may be trusted with in the future, depending on how I get on; but I am getting ahead of myself.

When I first opened the submission, I could immediately see why it had been rejected. Without reading a single line, the prose was simply not ‘presentable’ on the page. What do I mean by that? Take a look in any book of fiction that you have to hand: paragraphs are indented, not separated by a line break, and likewise, when a new character speaks his words are given the honour of a whole new line. Once I had taken care of basic formatting, I began to wade through the material. It needed a lot of work, that much was clear, but I had to make my criticism somehow constructive. That is Inspired Quill’s entire philosophy; if my edit turned out to be nothing more than an exercise in crushing a young writer’s dreams then it would be no better than mailing out one of those awful rejection slips I mentioned earlier.

Initially, I tried to imagine how I would write the piece myself, and change it accordingly. That method alone swiftly proved ineffective, because the essence of the author was being lost. Whatever stamp he or she had put on the lines was being replaced by mine and I, after all, was the editor, not the novelist. So, resisting that temptation, I looked for those instances where the writing was already satisfactory and suggested ways in which they could be expanded. Oddly enough, I realised that these instances occurred more frequently towards the end of the submission, where I was actually changing very little besides simple grammatical errors. It seemed the author had ‘got into his stride’ somehow, and that the earlier half of the piece was treated as a sort of compositional warm up.

At any rate, the MD was pretty impressed with my work. She appreciated how thorough I had been, and in particular my occasions of praise for the writer among all the critical comments. I feel I have learnt not only practical skills in editing and proofreading, but also (if a little philosophically) to search for what is effective in something that I may have initially written off. I do hope my criticism has helped that writer improve his or her skills, and given them the motivation to keep at it rather than give up altogether.