How Art Talks to Art

Originally blogged from my official site:

The choice to make my memoir a mixed-genre book was a surprisingly easy one to make. Back when I was sure it was going to be a straightforward memoir, a writer friend and colleague of mine suggested, half-kidding (I think? She jokes a lot so it’s hard to tell sometimes), “Is it gonna be mixed genre? Throw in some poems? Yeah? Yeah! You know it!” Sure, I had thrown around the idea of making my memoir a mixed-genre book but never seriously thought about it. When I went home that day, I looked at my poems — and also some of the few fiction pieces I had written  — and saw that some of them naturally fit with the pieces in my memoir, like how continents fit together.

I thought it was a pretty neat idea, writing a mixed-genre memoir. I certainly wasn’t the first to do it either. Amber Dawn’s memoir, How Poetry Saved My Life, includes both memoir and poetry. More recently, Amy Poehler’s book, Yes Please, features essays, haikus, and other odd little pieces of writing. Bossypants by Tina Fey includes the Sarah Palin/Hilary Clinton SNL script that became famous.

My memoir contains, poetry, a short script, a short play, song lyrics, and, of course, memoir. I know it might seem strange to include fiction, and I’ve tried to explain it concisely as I’ve could in the queries and book proposals I’ve been sending out, in an effort to make publishers and editors see that I’m not just a weirdo novice writer who is scrapbooking my greatest hits. But it’s difficult because I feel like it requires a bit more explanation. So if you’re a publisher trying to figure out why you have a multi-genre memoir thing on your desk, here’s your answer.

I made a short film called Stay, which is about two Chinese-Canadian gay men and what happens when one of them refuses to stay the night. You don’t need to know anything about me to watch this film (in fact, it’s on YouTube). After watching it (or before, really), if I told you that my first boyfriend was Chinese-Canadian and in the closet, and that we never had a night together, how does that change your reading/interpretation of the Stay? (Does the film come across as a fantasy/hope if the real same had stayed the night?) How does Stay reveal autobiography as a work of fiction? What can you suggest about why I decided to write and make the film?

Maybe it’s just the English major in me, the one that constantly analyzes things for meanings, but these are the kind of questions I like to ask — and I’d like people to ask — when reading my work. Not everyone will want to think this deeply, for sure, but I think they’re good questions to ask.

Here’s another way to put it. I recently watched a documentary called National Gallery, made by Frederick Wiseman. At one point in the film, a worker at the National Gallery in London explains how paintings and works “talk to each other.” When looking at a painting on its own, he says, you may have one interpretation. When put next to another painting, it causes you to reinterpret both paintings; you notice things you didn’t notice before. They both mean different things.

That’s exactly what I’m trying to do with my mixed-genre book. I’m trying to show readers a different way — my perspective — of looking at not just my straightforward memoir pieces, but all the other kinds of writing and art that I do and make. I believe that this reveals a lot more about a person that a simple memoir, and as someone who feels constantly misunderstood (or not understood at all), I relish the opportunity to give people this special insight. And it’s not just me trying to boast to everyone that I can write a script and a play (although that is an added bonus).

Hope that makes sense. I feel like it will make more sense once my book is available and people can read it for themselves (hint hint, publishers). What are your thoughts? Do you think a mixed-genre memoir is a good idea?

-A

Deadlines are great!

I may have written about the wonders of deadlines but in case I haven’t, they are awesome. At least if you’re into creative writing.

Case in point: I had an assignment due today, and I spent many hours working on it until I finished the first draft and submitted it a little while ago. Could I have done that without a deadline? Perhaps. Is it likely? Perhaps not. Even the awesome and lovely Amber Dawn reminisced about how great being in a program with deadlines was. Once you’re out of school, you have to push yourself to finish things and we all know we’re not very good enforcers.

Here’s a tip. I use submission deadlines for publications as deadlines to write and complete pieces I’m working on. It worked quite well last year, and I’m sure it would work well if I weren’t busy with my own assignments. How else do you all keep motivating yourself to write?

I WILL be a writer.

For some reason, I’ve been feeling lately like I could really be a writer and write books and novels and all that stuff. For anyone that knows me, I haven’t really believed that I could ever finish a book and get it published, so this is a really good feeling. I think part of it is having read Amber Dawn’s memoir, who is a friend and colleague, has made me realize that people can do it — and I can be one of those people.

So yes. I WILL be a writer. And I WILL get a book published — not in five or ten years, but quite soon. I know it. I can feel it.

How Poetry Saved My Life: A Hustler’s Memoir

This is a wonderful, lovely, emotional (if too short!) memoir, written by my friend and colleague Amber Dawn. I really encourage everyone to go and give this book a read. While reading, I couldn’t help but feel like I wish I could write such evocative and poetic descriptions of people and things as Amber Dawn writes. It’s certainly something I’ll pay more attention to in my own writing.

Also, I look funny here. But go read the book and stop looking at me!

Starting from scratch: looking at filmmaking from a different view

I know I haven’t posted in a few days, and I have to write reviews for Gen Silent as well as the Closing Gala film, Different From Whom? but after last night, things have changed a bit.

Although I wasn’t expecting to win either of the two awards of the evening, of course I would’ve liked to.  I knew Jason Karman and his fantastic short I’m in the Mood for Love was going to win the Gerry Brunet Award, but the Hot Pink Shorts Award was still up in the air.  At the same time though, my sister told me that it’s really a popularity contest since the award is voted by audiences, and since I’m fairly unpopular, it didn’t surprise me when it turned out to be a three-way tie between Mette Bach’s B.A.B.S. which was clearly an audience favourite, and two other shorts.

I’ve been frustrated and have a love-hate relationship with these awards– yes, they are a fantastic opportunity to local filmmakers and I’ve so happy and glad they even exist.  At the same time, the Gerry is usually given to a film that looks great overall and ostensibly was made with some sort of budget.  But it’s a catch-22: how do you get the money to make a great film when  you have no budget to make the film that would help you make the great film?  I’ve been lucky enough to make two short films with virtually no budget and though I’m satisfied with the final films, I can’t help but feel like they’re B-list, average movies.  Sure, money would’ve helped but I didn’t have any sources of funding and I had to make-do with the resources and people available, and I’m grateful for everyone that’s helped me along the way.

But after last night, I felt like I needed to change my entire process of filmmaking and how I look at films.  Stay and Cure(d) were both simple shorts that I quickly put together and submitted to the Queer Film Fest, but I have other scripts that are more complex, more artistic that I don’t want to throw together quickly and submit.  I’ve thought of a few things I want to change for future projects:

1.  Take your time.

Like I said, I made the two mentioned films above in a hurry because of the deadlines, and though they’re good as they are since they’re simple, I want to really take my time with my next film planning everything– and I mean everything– out.  I want every shot to mean something; I want my actors to have rehearsed plenty before the shoot; I want to explore different angles and transitions with my cinematographer; and most importantly, I don’t want to feel pressured to finish something in time for the festival.

2.  Research shooting formats.

I’ve been shooting on digital for my last two shorts, mainly because it’s convenient and easy to handle.  But I want to take the time to look at other formats, like film, that show different textures and give the film a different feel.  I want to use format as a way to create atmosphere and mood instead of relying on dialogue or lighting, but using format to enhance it further.

3.  Find a producer.

So many times, I’ve tried to find funding sources but more likely than not, they require the applicant to not be an undergrad student, and despite the fact that I’ve graduated from Vancouver Film School with a background in film, it doesn’t seem to matter since I’m still a student at the moment.  What would really help is finding someone I can trust to help fund my film, who would aid in assisting the process.  I’ve never put down any producing credit for any of my films because, frankly, it wasn’t made with any money, and there wasn’t really a producer.

I also am now willing to spend money to make my films, now that I have a job.  I’m willing to go and rent cameras, lights, equipment to see that the project is given the proper artistic respect as it’s realized.  It’s all within reason though.  I have to research all of that.

If anyone out there is remotely interested in doing some producing work or knows of someone who might be willing to help me, let me know!

4. Network?

I’m not the social type.  I don’t go up to random people and just start chatting away, which may be my downfall.  I’m just a quiet, kind of shy guy making movies and getting into an industry that is heavily relient on extroverted, charismatic people who know how to talk to other people.  It’s who I am, and I can’t help it.  I think I just need to man-up and go and talk with strangers.

For a few years, I was writing songs and going out and performing around the city.  It was a great time and I felt like it was what I really wanted to do for a while.  But then I started feeling like it wasn’t working– after shows, people would go and talk with the performers while I sort of loitered around awkwardly.  I don’t know if no one simply wanted to talk to me or if it was because I was the only piano player while everyone else was a guitarist but eventually, I realized that I probably was never going to have the level of success and popularity that I wanted for myself.  So I turned to filmmaking.

And now I’m starting to feel the same way.

I don’t feel as bad because I’ve gotten a lot more support than I did with my music, especially from the folks from Out on Screen and the Queer Film Festival (the awesome and lovely Amber Dawn in particular who keeps surprising me by being incredibly supportive) and I feel like I’m reaching a lot more people by making films than with music.  But there’s always that fear in my mind: what if all I’m going to be is an average, B-list filmmaker who comes to the Queer Film Fest every year and nothing happens?  What if this is as good as it will ever get?

I know.  If I don’t try, I’ll never know.  To parallel another event, I’m a super fan of Vanessa Carlton.  After her third album, she sat down and thought about her process of music, songwriting, and recording.  Eventually, she went to the English countryside and wrote and recorded her next, entirely self-financed album.  She said everything was organic and was exactly the kind of record she wanted to make.  Every lyric in every song was thought out carefully and went through drafts.

And I guess I feel that way too.  After Cure(d), I think I need to sit down and think for a while, to look at every possible option out there that would help me make the best possible film.

As usual, I welcome any thoughts anyone might have.  In the meantime, I’ll be sending out Cure(d) around to festivals and seeing how that goes.

Finally, I just want to quickly thank everyone who’s ever supported me in anything creative I’ve done.  It’s helped me more than you’ll ever know.