Bullshit

On the subject of bullshit, I think there is a lot to be said. But what it immediate brings to my mind is the limitations of the English language. So many times we have just one word that we want to mean too many things. Many times it is curse words that serve double to quintuple duties. Calling someone an asshole, for instance, indicates two nearly contrary insults. The primary being a mean-spirited bully who goes out of his way to be a jerk and the secondary is a real clod, a goon, a doofus, a stooge, or a punk-bitch, something along those lines. Actually now that I think about it jerk works equally for both. It too has those same meanings. It is not however true to say that asshole is any less effective as a word because someone might not understand the right definition when the word is being used.

But Bullshit, now the two different ideas there do matter a great deal. Perhaps it is because bullshit is what we produce and not a reductive idea of what we are. It doesn’t matter, really, if we are called an asshole and we are being a chump but everyone thinks we are being a mean little shit. We are still labeled negative and that was the insulter’s intent all along, albeit at its most basic level. Bullshit on the other hand has two different kinds. More unlike than they are similar.

There is the bullshit that someone believes. This often is a political thought or it is a religious belief. This is the kind of thing that keeps hate alive and makes boring motherfuckers talk about the right way to stain a deck or whatever else boring motherfuckers do with their time. And there is the kind of bullshit that makes it glorious to be a human. It is the shit we shoot and what makes it possible to have this.

What kind of bullshit is that? The best kind. Do you have any idea the amount of energy that went into all that bullshit to make that a thing? I mean it is not just the immediate bullshit of the wiki. Or the show. Or of television. Or of writing for a living. Or of acting for a living. Or of the day to day comedy of life. It is all that and more. It is one of the many evolutionary lines of bullshit that we can see today. And all that bullshit is built on some other nice bullshit until the dawn of man.

That is enough of this bullshit. Let’s talk about something else. Or the same old bullshit. It is your call.

Bullshit

You're right. Everything you just said is bang on. Words are powerful and have more meaning than we give them credit for. There's a whole episode of Doctor Who on this topic (can you guess which one?). And it's true that the amount of useless talking that people do everyday saturates our ability to appreciate the value of words. All of these things are true.

But this blog wouldn't be terribly interesting if I just agreed with everything you say. I would even go so far as to say that that entire first paragraph just succeeded in adding to all of the problems you see with too much talking.

But I'll be honest, James. It almost sounds like you are looking for a world without bullshit. However, this hypothetical non-bullshit world is not only impossible... it sounds completely undesirable to me. I mean, without bullshit, how would college students get B minuses on their term papers? How would people pretend that they remember meeting someone who they've just run into for (apparently) the third time? How would James Patterson afford his mansions?

We need bullshit... for so many reasons. And not just those obvious ones. This blog, for instance, could not exist without a healthy dose of bullshit. Because what do either of us know about anything, really? Nothing! But we get by with an ability to manipulate the English language and by having a BA in Bullshit. (actually, that example was admittedly pretty obvious)

Truth be told, unless you're writing peer-reviewed physics reports based on years of study (and sometimes even then), most of what we say is just conjured up nonsense from our minds. We take a stance and we back it up with whatever limited world experience we have and pair that with some entirely made up statistics. This is a standard equation that almost everyone is guilty of relying on.

But I think that every writer out there benefits from this convenient truth: That bullshit is easy, fun and empowering. We can sit with pen in hand and make things up for hours on end and call it a novel. And then, if we're lucky, someone will pay us for it. And then, if we're really lucky, a bunch of people will pay to read it. And if this lucky streak continues for long enough, you turn into James Patterson. So, I guess there is a down side to bullshit. James Patterson.

How do you feel about Bullshit, James? I know you've mused on this topic before. I can feel it. Tell me the greatest Bullshit story you've ever heard, or told.

Sorry I didn't have any Winter Institute stories to share with you in this post. They were mostly all bullshit anyway.

Words

As promised Jen, this weeks topic is words.

Now you said that John Green left quite the impression on you when he said that twitter and facebook and whatever else that we say or write online is assumed to be important because it is text but that it is an outdated way of looking at things. Instead it may be better to view those things as you would normal everyday speech. Well I don't agree because I kinda agree.

I will say that I know first hand how different writing something on the internet and simply speaking the same sentiment are thought of by people. And if for no other reason than the power that we give text, the internet and things we say on it, carry greater weight than that uttered speech. What we do on this thing is permanent, public, recorded, and serious. Even when we don't want it to be. But that is all besides the point.

I think John is right that we should treat speech on the internet exactly the same as we treat speech in real life. And actually we do. Mostly. But that is the problem.

We all talk to much. Way to much. About our preferences for shellfish. About the best way to get somewhere. About books or movies that aren't that personal to us. About politics. About our lawns. And about our own stupid boring lives and thoughts and opinions. All the fucking time it is a non-stop yammering of useless bleats. It is enough to make you wish that everyone would just shut the fuck up already. There are after all two better things you can do with your mouth. Maybe more if you want to be dirty.

But it isn't just the verbal onslaught of lazy words coming out of the mouth that does it for us any more. It has to be updates and tweets and blogs. No one can just have an experience anymore or a thought or really work something over until it is fully formed. They just thumb it out to the world. Nothing that has ever needed to be said was written by thumbs. I am pretty damn sure about that.

We all do it. I do it. You do it. We ought to know better and sometimes we do. But there is such an ancient power in the spoken word. Magic incantations and epics recited from memory. These are the way that we still feel about words. Deep down we know that words are and should only ever be important. That is why we still pretend fuck shouldn't be said all the fucking time.

But I know you are dying to talk about WI7, so get to it. Tell me about what words were important to you this past week? Who used them well? And just for fun you can talk about James Patterson who did not.

Magic

So James, you know how those 4 kids stumbled through a wardrobe? And a little boy let loose a snake into a public zoo? Or what about that young girl who found herself decidedly over the rainbow? Well, that's where I spent my week James. In a magical place that I never expected and had no idea was even there.

Winter Institute, held by the American Bookseller's Association, is nothing short of magical. I had an incredible time, met some tremendous people and made some connections that I think will be instrumental in my future. And somehow, through all of the insanity, my week kept on bringing me back here - to our blog. Themes like storytelling, meeting our heroes and how we speak to others were constant themes throughout the week. I have so many new stories to share, both my own and others.

First, I want to address something you said in your last post. "What I mean to say is that John Green produces a lot of thoughts in public media. Not all of which are perfect gems." I read your post on Wednesday night and was pleasantly surprised to find John Green addressing that very issue in the panel he was on Thursday. He likened Twitter to his neighborhood, explaining that the Internet should be an extension of our real-world relationships. We say things that don't matter and aren't perfect all the time. If we do this online, it makes people feel like they are having authentic, honest, human interactions. This phenomenon gives online conversations more value, albeit a completely different kind. This panel on social media marketing encouraged us to let people into our stores by simulating the in-store experience online. Tell people what's happening. Tell them about books you like. And let go of the notion that everything we write has to be perfect.

I think this is an interesting idea and I'm not exactly sure how I feel about it. John Green's right - we're used to text mattering. When you write it down, you're making a permanent contribution to the world. You're taking a thought from your own mind and making it public. There has always seemed to be something sacred about this to me. But John challenges us to let go of this expectation. We say things all the time that have very little significance or meaning. He's just suggesting that we bend and shift a little. Words still have power, but social media gives us a new venue for more casual communications - which come along with their own benefits. There's certainly a slippery slope there - kids not having adequate introductions and opportunities to use meaningful written words. But that is just another challenge I think we have to consider and meet.

Anyway, enough of that! Let's move on to something slightly more interesting: meeting your heroes. It's a tricky business, especially when you're meeting them in more than one capacity. On Wednesday night, I found myself in line with 500 teenaged girls, waiting to see John and Hank in their show associated with the release for The Fault In Our Stars. Mothers dropping off their 13-year-olds asked me to play chaperone for the evening and I happily spoke with many of them about their love of books, television, nerd culture and life in general. They were all such vibrant story-tellers, which I think is a quality we can thank John and Hank for encouraging in them. I was so impressed by their instant sense of community and camaraderie. Way to go young nerdfighters!

The show was excellent, as I expected, and afterwards I waited my turn in the excruciatingly long signing line to introduce myself. Upon explaining that I was with ABA, John apologized for how "weird" the show must have seemed. John, you should know that nerdfighters come in all forms! I had a blast, but his humility was charming anyway. Oh, and I shared a high five with Hank...

Thursday was a busy day at Winter Institute. Lots of panels, networking, learning about new books being released this year. It was definitely intense. While eating lunch, publisher reps came by in an unending parade of advanced reader copies. Two straight hours of being pitched to with only 10 minutes in between to get up and stretch. It doesn't sound that bad, but when you're in a banquet hall filled with nearly 1,000 people, all talking as loudly as they possibly can, I challenge YOU not to be exhausted by the end.

Ok, so the part you're really interested in - how was my semi-private dinner with John Green? It was great! And by great I mean a completely normal dinner with a room full of average people. John Green - completely normal and average in every way. And THAT was what made the experience so excellent. He listened to everyone and asked thoughtful questions. He talked about the difficulties of owning a small business with his brother (DFTBA Records). And he teabefore for having a childhood crush on former figure skater and North Andover resident Ron Kravette. It was magical. Because at the end of the night, I think we both felt about he same way towards one another - we enjoyed our conversations, would be happy to hang out again and graduated from acquaintances to friends. I'm not even being presumptuous... he said it, not me. And that's what I think I've always liked and known about him - he's just a regular, nerdy, slightly awkward dude who just happens to get a lot of online attention.

So James, I don't know how much I buy into that whole "don't meet your heroes - you'll just be disappointed" saying. I highly recommend meeting your heroes. It gives us a chance to reinvest in our own potential. And therein lies my motivation. Because who separates you and me from John Green.

That's right. Nothing.

Here's to motivation, potential and getting stuff done.

DFTBA, James.

Tardiness

Hi James! It just occurred to me that I'm on New Orleans time and therefore it is already past midnight on the east coast. I knew it would happen eventually... I'm late to post. But I've been working on a response all day. I promise to have it up tomorrow. For now, here's a taste of what I have to share with you:

John Green on social media (1/19/20)
"This should be fun. I know that owning a business and running a business is not fun day in and day out, but there are moments when it's fun. There are moments when you're making connections with your customers and it's really fun and you feel grateful that you got into this weird business of ours. And I think that that should be the goal in online communication as well. That should be the goal when you're reaching out to your community. And I really believe that in the same sense that you have this community of customers and the physical community in which your stores are located, you also have an online community and it's really helpful to me at least to imagine them similarly. It's helpful for me to imagine Twitter or Tumblr or Facebook or wherever as my neighborhood. And in the same way that things that I say to my neighbors aren't that big of a deal, things that I say on twitter aren't that big of a deal. I think that's one of the number one obstacles that we all face, particularly when you're using social media for the first time - we're used to text mattering."

Ps - I think I get a pass with my lateness since I spent last night getting you all sorts of behind the scenes info on the secret lives of authors. ;-)

“Practicing an art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow, for heaven's sake. Sing in the shower. Dance to the radio. Tell stories. Write a poem to a friend, even a lousy poem. Do it as well as you possibly can. You will get an enormous reward. You will have created something.”

- Kurt Vonnegut

John Green. John Green. Yeah I like John Green. I have been watching his and his brother’s videos for quite some time and they are often insightful and entertaining. I always look forward to new updates from them and they do a lot of decreasing world suck. But, and I almost hesitate to say anything, he is a little, how do I say it, well he is not the greatest writer who ever lived sometimes.

What I mean is that John Green produces a lot of thoughts in public media. Not all of those thoughts are perfect jems. I have not read all of what he has written and would certainly not judge him as a writer. I am reading his new book and it is great. Sometimes the dialogue rings a little hollow. Maybe it is just me and maybe it is not really there, but sometimes I think that I hear him when I shouldn’t. Then again I know what he sounds like more than any other author I have ever read. My point is simply that when you, Jen, put him up on a pedestal, I can’t help but find it a little strange because when I can see his flaws that makes me feel like I can do better. I mean it stands to reason if I see the ways in which he is successful and the ways that he might not be as successful, I can become better than him. In a way not only have I knocked him off of a pedestal , I have climbed up onto it using his body for support. This is, of course, bullshit.

Even if I had the talent that John Green has, which I must admit I do not, I would never, no matter the amount of time or effort , surpass him in achievement. John does more that write, he tells stories. More than that he is, at the very least, good at it. And more than that, people like his stories and people grow from his stories. His stories are important to people. There can be no higher goal for me as a storyteller than that. And I could hope for no better. There is no better.

Art and entertainment are peculiar forms of human communications because they look so unlike what they are. They may seem more one sided than most conversations but I don’t think they are. They are messages in bottles floating out in every direction. Whoever picks them up responds as surely as you would to me talking to you behind the counter at the store. They don’t respond back directly but with every emotion and behavior changed by the work. They may, God willing, send out real messages in bottles of their own. If art and entertainment is simply a kind of conversation, by the way, then they can range from anywhere to small talk to deeply personal heart to hearts. I think it is up to everyone to figure out when someone is talking at you or deeply invested in your life.

I think when stories are at their best they tell us what seems like a pretty good way to be looks like or what a pretty bad way to be looks like without telling us what a pretty good way to be is or what a pretty bad way to live is. They are most successful messages when they come from one personal viewpoint and they give us hope that we shouldn’t kill ourselves, even when the stories seem to suggest we should. This is all a little vague but my point is that art is mostly not about skill. It is mostly about the human stuff we do that isn’t inhumane, even when it is talking about the human stuff we do that is inhumane. The skill stuff is okay too but it just isn’t as important. Stories are a weird kind of friendship that tell you things you need to hear.

That’s why I love Kurt Vonnegut so much. He is certainly not the best writer around in terms of artistry but he has been a good friend. John Green, too, is a damn good friend to a ton of people and for that I am thankful that he is alive. No artist is ever perfect. Sometimes, if they are lucky, they can create a perfect piece of art. It takes a lot of luck and a lot of work, but it happens. But the hell with perfect as far as I can tell. That kind of thinking drives you crazy.

Thinking about heroes though, I can’t help but think about the command “ If you meet the Buddha, kill the Buddha.” It has all kinds of resonance with me. But I think the most interesting thing about it, is the reflexive way it bends back on itself. Or rather you bend back on yourself. If it is true that we all have Buddha-nature, or if you prefer artist nature or hero nature, than we must equally kill ourselves. (Man, I think I use the phrase “kill ourselves” too much in this. How much is too much? I mean, technically, you can only do it once.) It is a humbling as well as an equalizing phrase. There are no heroes out there for you to look up to and you certainly have nothing to look down from. But since you are meeting heroes and peers and all that, how do you feel about it? What role do heroes play in your life? Are role models a good thing?

Have fun and don't be too good.

-James

P.S. John Green is fucking great. At all the things that he does. I am super jealous that you get to meet him like three times.

Stories

On Sunday morning, before I began the business of cleaning, cooking and other odds & ends, I had a long think. In your last post, James, you said “[The burden of creation] must not be demystified or pretty soon everyone will think they can write or draw or play music. Who wants that?” And at first, I agreed. You’re right, some people are special and are better at creating art! If everyone thought they could do it, then it wouldn’t be special any more. What kind of a world would that be?

With this thought in mind, I started thinking more about what I am doing this coming week. For those of you who don’t know James and me personally, we work together at a bookstore. But this week, I’ll be leaving the Andover crew to hold down the fort while I venture down to New Orleans for the American Booksellers Association’s Winter Institute. This annual event is a gathering of booksellers, publishers, authors and other members of the book selling world. This is my first year attending and I was already super excited because it is being held in New Orleans, which happens to be one of my favorite cities. But then I got an email that I never expected in my wildest dreams. A representative from Penguin invited me to a private author dinner with John Green!

I have been to a few author dinners before. There are usually about a dozen people there, including the publisher rep and the author. It’s an excellent chance to speak with the author in an intimate setting and to network for future events. But this particular author dinner goes well beyond my normal level of enthusiasm for such things. I have been an avid John Green fan for about 3 years now. I’ve read all of his books and follow his YouTube projects. He’s always struck me as an all-around good guy who has the right combination of intelligence and humor. He’s been a personal inspiration for my own writing and I’ve watched his YouTube channel with the specific goal of making my own videos better.

So when I say that this author dinner won’t be like the others, I hope you understand why. John Green isn’t just another author for me to network with. He’s a personal hero who I have spent a number of years looking up to. He’s one of the “special ones” that James alluded to. One of the people who excels at creation. If everyone were like John Green, well the whole world would be a lot more awesome, but there wouldn’t be anything special about him anymore. So I wasn’t feeling all that bad about my slight level of obsession. I felt good about having him up on a pedestal and I was looking forward to standing up there with him for a few hours. All I had to worry about were my nerves.

But then I read Paper Towns (the only book of John’s that I hadn’t read yet). I just finished it Sunday morning and two of the passages stuck out. They came to me exactly when I needed them, and from the man himself.

“But isn’t it also that on some fundamental level we find it difficult to understand that other people are human beings in the same way that we are? We idealize them as gods or dismiss them as animals.”

“What a treacherous thing it is to believe that a person is more than a person.”

Thanks John Green, that’s exactly what I needed to hear, and not a moment too soon. You’re just a guy, John. You’re a guy who happens to be very good at conveying a story, in many different mediums. And I think that’s what Paper Towns is all about: how hard it is to see our own understanding of the human experience in someone we have placed upon a pedestal. That is my challenge this week, James. To sit next to John Green and see him as just another human being. Because that is where the real honor will be. In sitting at a table, talking and laughing as equals.

So after that epiphany, I started thinking about stories. We are all made up of stories. Some are great. Some need to be followed by a snarky line like “And then I found 12 plastic skeletons.” But everyone’s lives are made up of a string of stories. Some of us tell them really well and can even conjure up imaginary stories to delight our friends. Still, others don’t think their stories are worth sharing or are too afraid of what others might think.

Then a metaphor entered my mind. Try to follow me on this one. Imagine a supermarket, with dozens of isles filled with food (in this metaphor, the food is stories). Folks like you, me and John Green, we are like giant grocery stores packed with food. We rely on stories to succeed, we are defined by the fact that we have stories inside of us and that we need to tell them. Other people, they might be more like malls or Hess gas stations. Sure, there is some food in those places, but that’s not their defining trait. You go to the mall to shop or the Hess station for gas. You might stop while you’re there for a cup of coffee or a cinnabon, but neither a mall nor a gas station would go out of business if they stopped selling food. Some people need to tell stories in order to live. It is what we are meant to do, and if we are lucky, we can also make a living doing it.

So James, tell me what you think about stories and what sort of role they play in this world. Do you have any great stories to share? I hope that by Friday, I have plenty of new stories for you.

Be good while I’m gone!

-Jen

Ending

When you bring up the relationship between fun and art, I can’t help but wonder exactly what that relationship is. It may certainly be true that some art is not fun. There is art that is stark and hurtful and bleak. Nothing about this, for instance, is fun. It certainly isn’t funny. But then again certainly some art is fun. And the art that is not “fun” is on some level enjoyable. On some level we enjoy having emotions and we enjoy responding to creations. That does not mean that making art is fun or enjoyable. Here is the thing, when you say that writers “hole up in a little studio and solemnly convey those experiences in a compelling way,” I can’t help but wonder whether an artist can have fun at all.

Of course that seems a bit silly but I think that examining exactly what kind of person decides to spend any amount of time working on something for other people is a worthwhile thing to look at. These other people are some that the artist will never meet, or know, or get anything from in any way. Except maybe sex. All people hold out hope that maybe what they do will get them sex somehow. But otherwise what a peculiar form of communication art is then. You sit alone and figure something out and you carve it and shape it and remold it until it is just right and you send it out. The hours and the suffering you go through to make something for someone else to experience. It is a odd thing we do. And we all do it. But is it fun? I am unsure. I don’t even know if it is fun on the other end. I don’t even know that when I consume art, I can properly call that fun.

Let’s say I can. Let’s call the consumption of all art fun. But there is still the issue of the artist. Does she ever enjoy her work? I would say yes they do. But do they have fun? I guess it depends. I think that the amount of work put into something can be really hard. Does it have to be a big uncomfortable hassle all the time? Certainly not but doesn’t it make it seem more mysterious and lofty to pretend that there is a constant burden on the artist? And that must not be demystified or pretty soon everyone will think they can write or draw or play music. Who wants that.

Writing, or painting, is not a hassle but it is hard. It is frustrating. But then again maybe that is fun. Who knows? The frustration of writing a song and getting it just right, yeah that is all there. But then you see a band playing together who have been playing together for years. They have had fights and struggled to make everything the way they wanted it. And now here they are on stage playing the song loosely and having a great fucking time doing it. And so are you. You are having all the more fun with them because they are having a blast. You can kind of always tell when someone is having fun and you want to have fun too. Even in writing, which is the solitary effort of lonely souls, a reader can tell when someone is enjoying their own writing as if they didn’t write it.

Jen I get what you are saying about fun catalyzing art. It is the beginning. But it is the end too.

-James

Experience

James, as I'm sure you have gathered by now, I am a worst-case-scenario kind of gal. My mind will always seek out the worst possible thing that could happen and how I might have to deal with the consequences. Don't ask me why I am this way (although I'm sure being an oldest child has something to do with it). What I can say for certain is that I am ill qualified to speak with any real certainty on the topic of "fun". I mean, I love fun as much as the next guy, but I don't get quite as caught up in it. I immediate fast forward to the lands beyond fun. You know, when shit gets real.

So, what does fun mean to me? It's the beginning. It's where we all start off. Children have fun all the time. Because they're at the beginning. We think college is going to be tons of fun, and when we first get there, it is. But a few weeks in and we realize what we've signed up for. Falling in love is so much fun, some people do it more often than they change the sheets on their beds. But you know what falling in love eventually leads to? Herpes. Or marriage. Or being dumped. And if you play your cards right, you might get all three.

See what I mean about worst case scenarios? But I digress.

I guess the most important thing to remember about fun is that it will always lead you somewhere. Whether that place changes your life for the better (ex. having children), or for the very very worst (ex. an unintended dip with crocodiles), it's going to lead you somewhere. Because fun is only the beginning.

Fun is an excellent catalyst. That's the role it plays in my life. Fun always becomes something else. It's a transitive state. And when my worst-case-scenario brain gets way too caught up in all the "what if"s and "what now"s, I like to listen to a song that I think lays things out very simply.

The Remedy

Now, I know you're tempted to listen to the first few seconds and then turn it off. But really listen to this song. Listen to the lyrics. It touches on some important things. Like inevitability and futility and where fun takes us. And why we should just dive into fun in spite of it all.

Maybe it's because this song released around the same time that I first started realizing how fleeting fun can be. Or maybe Jason Mraz always seems to have the right words to fit my circumstances. He originally wrote this song after finding out that a close friend had cancer. He explains that the remedy to his friend's circumstance is the experience of having it. That's all that really matters: your experiences. Because it all amounts to nothing in the end. None of us get out of this world alive. The only way to get through life (or the only way that seems to be worth anything) is to experience it. And that's what fun is - a way to get at experience.

So here is the final point I want to make: fun begets experience and experience begets art. We create art to convey an experience that we've had or that we want to have. Or at least that's how I approach it. Writers go out into the world and do fun and often stupid things in order to experience a moment or an emotion or a state of being. And then they hole up in a little studio and solemnly convey those experiences in a compelling way. Fun is fuel! It gets us to the good stuff. To the hard stuff. To what makes life a shared and universal experience. The best art conveys what fun can't. The best art shows us what comes after fun. Because after fun, we find out what we're made of.

-Jen

Fun

So I have been thinking about what the topic for this week was going to be and I wasn’t sure. At first I thought I would go off of potential and talk about paralysis. But I don’t know, that seems a little too close. But your idea of going out to do some base jumping reminded me of this news story:

http://www.nydailynews.com/news/world/video-australian-woman-bungee-cord-snaps-african-river-article-1.1002492

I wanted to talk about that in a broad way. Why is it that people want to go out and do things? What is the deal with fun anyway?

Look at what happened in that video. Bungee Jumping works, or is fun, because it is dangerous. It is thrilling because it is scary. But what could be scarier than swimming through crocodile invested water with your legs tied together? Clowns or spiders. But besides that? Not much. Yet we have bungee jumping firmly in the fun category while swimming with crocodiles is so far outside of the realm of fun that you have to drive a full day just to get there. Why should that be?

Everything fun is stupid. And I mean that in the least teenager way possible. Everything that can be classified as fun, if you look at it, is pointless and more than likely dangerous. And yet we are drawn to it. More than that, we are called by others to live this kind of romantic lifestyle. Going out and traveling and doing things like sky diving are regarded as things that everyone should do at least once. What a crock of shit. Why go to Spain to run with the bulls? What kind of empty stupid gesture is that? There is nothing to be gained from that experience other than telling the same boring story to your friends later. You aren’t made better by fun. In fact, fun can often make you a worse more condescending person.

It wouldn’t be worth talking about if fun made you happier. It doesn’t. Fun and happiness are too completely different things. Some of the most worthwhile things in this world are not fun. Raising children is not fun. It can be enjoyable from time to time but it really is usually awful, I would think. Being so wrapped up in another things safety and happiness that you suffer sleepless nights and financial hardships. Not to mention cleaning up bodily fluids and what not. Love in general is not fun. Infatuation is. Lust is. Sex is. But loving someone is not wholly fun. There is too much pain involved.

I am not anti-fun. But I think fun is a large reason we do things. It is the inspiration for so many things. We build theme parks and we come up with new ways to thrill and delight ourselves. And all of that is good and interesting. My question to you Jen is what do you think fun is? What role does fun play in your life? And do you think that fun helps us create art?

Anyway, try and have some fun today.

-James

Power

I love your example from The Graduate. Potential is such a dynamic force, driving us to experiences life and all of the surprises and failures that it brings us. But potential can be a cruel, dangerous mistress, as young Ben discovers. Because it is nearly impossible to parse out the energy of potential from the emotions of our silly human minds and hearts. It often isn't the destination that rewards us, but the journey we took to reach it. Like I said yesterday, Ben's greatest joy is in the running - I wish he could run forever.

So, coming back around to the Blog and our task at hand. I want to talk about "Potential" as a muse. Potential makes us daydream. It leads us to fantasize about all we could be. But it doesn't give us any answers. Potential is far too easily contaminated by our willingness to justify poor decisions or cheat our way to the life we think we deserve. As ingrained as potential is in our American blood, I think there are plenty of examples from the past decade that show how dangerous potential makes us to ourselves and one another.

So I say - Deconstruct Her! Pull her a part to her core elements and find what is really there. What truly drives us? Because the possibility of the future will be there until we die and it seems selfish to me to use that as an excuse to take more than we deserve. Especially if all that potential doesn't actually lead to happiness.

Here's how I think potential wants to be used: to create. There is an infinite amount of potential out there. You could become a ranch hand in Montana and I could try base jumping in the grand canyon. Or you could take whatever potential that has meandered into your head and generate something new and far more valuable with it. You can create that reality as a writer and explore all of its possibilities and facets. I say capture potential. Hogtie that crazy bitch and get her on the page. We have the power.

Jen on 1/5/12

Drive

What a delightful and appropriate choice for the first topic. I think that potential is the most appropriate topic there is for a blog. And a blog about creativity no less? Why potential, if you excuse the redundancy, is the only place to start.

I love potential. But then again, I am an American. Love of potential is engrained in our national DNA. For all the homeliness that Americans purport to desire, there is a constant longing in all our hearts for something different. Something better. We were born of discovery, of invention, of creation. America is the land of the self-made man and of unspoiled land. It is the uncharted possibility of cities of gold, second chances and change that people seem to need to believe in. Even the conservative nostalgia of a better and simpler time is, at its core, a desire for pure unspoiled potential. There is a perfect world out there and somehow we can get to it and, whether or not we admit, it is very attractive.

I don’t mean to say that America is has a special quality in this love of potential. Of course it is felt among any number of people. I do however think that because we are on this half of the globe we have the idea of utopia in the firm back of our mind. We live where they came looking for all those things. And we are still looking, even if we can’t remember what we were looking for in the first place. But potential and hope are so closely related, that I wonder if we need the promise of jet packs, or people loving their neighbor, or the good old days like we need air. Do we need potential, whatever that means to us, to keep us moving?

Because it certainly is not the destination that we want. Not really. It almost never is preferable to have the actual thing to the potential of that thing. Jen, when you say it is the worst kind of life to have reaching your potential, I get was you mean. It is like peaking in highschool and spending the rest of your life thinking of going back. It is always about the fantasy of how great it will be. Because far too often the realization of potential looks like this:

There are too kinds of energies at work right there. The potential energy that has been building up in the movie between Dustin Hoffman and Katharine Ross and the release of that energy when Ben bangs on the window and shouts to Elaine into pure kinetics. They run until they are at rest on the back of the bus. Once stopped and stationary, reality sets in. And the dread and uncertainty of it flashes across their faces as they continue to try to manage a smile. That bus is going nowhere.

When you ask what I want this blog to be shaped like, I am unsure what to answer. If it is a living breathing thing than surely we would only kill it, at least a little, to tie it down. I think thought the structure of a conversation works nicely to keep us meandering for a good long while. What do you think?

-James

Potential

"You see things; and you say, 'Why?' But I dream things that never were; and I say, 'Why not?'" -- George Bernard Shaw

Considering the vague beginnings of this space, I think a topic such as "potential" is a great place for us to start. What an incredible phenomenon potential is! There is nothing quite like it because it suggests a future that is better and the possibility for unknown achievements. It's being in grade school and reaching desperately for all of the new experiences that are ahead of you. It's those breath-taking moments immediately before and sometimes after (if you're lucky) a first kiss. It's watching a nugget of an idea build up into something you can use in a story, poem or song that has yet to be written.

Potential is exciting, terrifying and what life is meant for.

We come into this world with an infinite amount of potential and if we're lucky, we leave with slightly less. But only slightly. What a tragedy - achieving your full potential. I wouldn't wish that existence on anyone. Potential is where the fun lies. It's where we face our fears and find out who we really are.

Here we are at our very first post. We will never have more potential that we have right here James, right in this moment. I don't know what this blog will be or how it will be structured. But that's what makes the whole thing so grand! We're in unknown waters, stranger tides.

So tell me your thoughts on potential, James. Tell me about something that uses potential well. Tell me about the disappointments that come along with failed potential. Tell me what you think our potential is here, with this space. What do you hope for it? How do you see it structured? Then throw some questions back my way. This is a living, breathing space right now. Let's give it some love and attention and hope it grows up into something we can be proud of.

Jen on 1/2/12