Showing posts with label sushi. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sushi. Show all posts

Monday, July 2, 2012

Radical Writing Advice: Perspective

Perspective. POV. First person, second person, third person, omnipotent. As a writer, you've surely at least heard these mentioned. You may or may not remember what they are. Perhaps your time in school was long enough ago that you've integrated the information but the labels fell off long ago. You may use some of them or a combination. Or you may just write and see what happens.

Perspective goes beyond who is speaking. I mean, obviously, who is speaking is important unless you are inentionally obfuscating the narrator. But even then, perspective is used with intent.

Before I write more, I want to share a video I found, which led to this week's topic.

As you know, last week I talked about dialogue. About being in the world around you for authentic conversation in your writing. When I was preparing that writing, I had mentioned sushi-go-round, more accurately called kaiten sushi. I wanted a picture and was surfing my photos and online.And, surprise - but not really if I'd thought about it - I found videos of kaiten sushi bars.

One of those videos caught my attention and I was going to include it last week as a postscript to my piece. Then I realized, it was a perfect companion to this topic of perspective.

So, before I delve into this any further, watch this video. It's a little long for some of you, I know. So feel free to watch a part of it, although if you stop early, you will miss the trip through the kitchen.

Perspective. From the point of view of the belt at the sushi go round. Thank you, MJRecession, whoever and wherever you are. After the video, I will continue with this week's topic.




How much did you make it through of the nearly 8 minutes? Did you see the kitchen? The reaction of the diners as it emerged on the belt from the kitchen?

Perspective!

I'm a fan of sushi. Regular sushi where you order off a menu and the kaiten or conveyor belt style. I find the sushi-go-rounds entertaining and relaxing and it's good for those "I can't make up my mind" times. I also enjoy the opportunity for overheard conversations and interactions - or lack of - of the people around me, sometimes nearly on top of me. And I've never thought about things from the point of view of a plate on the belt.

It can be challenging to write from a perspective we've never experienced, or perhaps one that is in direct conflict to our own. What do we do to quiet our voice, our bias, or preferences? How do we get to the point of the other if a character appears who is unlike us?

This is not an impossible task, but it can be a challenge. What we risk when we write from a perspective which isn't us or which we have no direct experience of is having our characters become cariacatures, stiff, cliche. But no, I'm not saying that we should try to experience everything or to stick only to topics we've experienced firsthand.

I am saying that we need to open up our experience of perspectives and to be aware of perspective when we write. Opening up perspective experiences may include something like this video. What does it look like from the sushi belt? Doesn't a sushi chef in a kaiten restaurant have a similar perspective to that? Write a story of a sushi chef who works in the front, with his creations going around and around, as he monitors what is popular and what they need more of, if something is staying there too long. What about the customers who don't see what they want and order off the sushi chart? Who want the orange spicy sauce? The low salt soy sauce or the teriyaki sauce? What does the sushi chef see?

What are some other perspectives you could try? Just for something new? How about lying on the sidewalk (or near it) of a popular running and walking track, perhaps near a lake or a river? What is the perspective from the ground up as people jog by, or pass on bicycles, the strolling walkers and the practicing race walking groups? You've probably sat on a bench or a fence or in a picnic chair as walkers and runners go by, but take it one layer lower. Or go sit outside a restaurant with big glass windows and watch the people inside. What do people do when they notice you noticing them? What do you notice about the flow of traffic; perhaps how do the customers travel through the space as compared to the people who work there? Can you tell who's worked there a long time from the newbies by their behavior?

Very important in this proces of learning about other perspectives is to talk to people. Talk to the people who are doing what your characters are doing. Open your mind and meet them with honest curiosity about their experience. Talk to them. Ask some questions and then listen. What do they want to tell you? What is important to them about this thing or this place or where they've come from?

A few months ago I took an online writing workshop with Inga Muscio and she had one assignment which relates to the idea of perspective, as well as other things good for writing. Her assignment was to go to a place where you normally don't go and interact. Talking to people who are unlike us or more like our characters will be beneficial to our stories. There are limits, of course. If you're writing a horror story you probably don't want to meet with an unstable serial killer; no. But if your serial killer grew up in a small house by the railroad tracks in a very small town, you might at least find a small town to visit. Meet some people.

For example, my grandmother taught in a one-room school house which was in the high desert, along the highway. Her trailer was next to the school house and the main part of town was a gas station-library-diner-post office-grocery store across the street. There was a small compound of a few houses a couple miles up the road for state highway workers, and a couple of houses near the multipurpose building across the road. But most of the people lived on ranches and farms miles away in both directions, in the hills. That is probably the smallest place I've ever visited and I'm sure it's grown at least a little by now.

So even in that itsy bitsy town, there is a social gathering place. You could stop for some gas, sit down for a piece of pie and a cup of coffee and probably meet at least two or three people. Talk to them. Get a sense of their stories.

Perspective. Like the difference between a road leading to the horizon in a painting or the cat which looks like it's sitting on the table leg with the blue pitcher floating above the table, the story changes with skill and with authentic knowledge of the origin.

Perspective is a tool we can use as writers to reveal parts of the story and obscure other information until we want the readers to know. But poorly written perspective has that cat levitating the pitcher and the floor in the room crawling up the wall. Spend a little time out in the world.

Or borrow other's research when you can. Like the sushi video. There are characters for stories in there. People's reactions - those who notice, those who don't, those who are excited or giggling and those who look embarassed or confused.

Step out of yourself and into the world. Into others' worlds at times.

Well written perspective helps hold the reader in the space and time of your story.

And there is nothing wrong with writing about a cat levitating a blue pitcher. Just make sure that is what you intended. You might even want to try lying on the floor with a blue pitcher above you and see if you can levitate it yourself. Get down there and see what the cat sees, feel what it's like.
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Thursday, February 16, 2012

Being Open and Noticing

There are times of energy shift, more than most of us notice, I believe.

And there are times of energy shift when something is happening and we feel it, though we aren't sure what is happening.

Then there are times that the energy shifts and we know it. In the cells of our bones and our organs and processes, we feel the movements and the winds and we go with it. Or maybe resist.

So it is right now - a time of transition. As we walk toward spring and return to light. As we emerge from darkness and seeds start to sprout.

Recently I've been working on metabolizing anger and releasing it. Sometimes using Tonglen to move it through so it doesn't get stuck and come out in other ways. Sometimes using energy protocols with hand mudras - breathing, visualization. All to move forward and heal and walk my true path.

An added bonus to this work is being open. These last couple of weeks I have gathered pieces of conversations, from Starbucks and Sushi Hana and Poppa's Haven and outside the library while driving to work listening to an interview of an author on NPR. Bits of talk and observations and ideas coming to me and I send myself an email to my special folder where the ideas are saved. I now have over 200 of these bits of collected inspirations.

Approaching spring.

Thinking about my future.

Looking into options of what I want to do next.

And along come story ideas. Poetry ideas. A title. A character. A line.

Energy. Open. Light.

Friday, November 27, 2009

NaNoWriMo: day 27

I wrote a little bit today. Not a lot because I brought the train up to Seattle in preparation for my half marathon on Sunday. One reason I brought the train up was so I could use that time for writing. But I did not get much done for two reasons (1) lack of sleep necessitated a nap, and (2) my laptop battery has a really short life. Really. It went from 97% to 25% in about 35 minutes. Ouch.

Still, I did manage another 600+ words. I may do more in a little while. I spent the afternoon going to Blue C Sushi - my favorite Kaiten style sushi and the only one I know who has Gomasee (steamed spinach piles in a sesame soy sauce). Then I went to pick up my race packet: bib, timing chip (that may spurn me on to go for the time a little! as long as my lungs hold out), race shirt - and, of course, to walk the expo and look at things and pick up a few things. I love running/walking event expos - so much cool stuff to look at.

And I've been back in my hotel for about and hour now, indulging in a little television (yeah, for Law and Order, and CSI). Think I'll write for a little while more then go to sleep.

Yawn. It feels great to be past the 50,000 and I do want to maintain momentum on this story. It would be a very difficult one to put down and pick back up after a month or two.

Tuesday, July 22, 2008

colorado: day 14 (tues 7/22)

So this is how long it takes for something to become familiar. Two weeks. Or perhaps it's better said that it might only take two weeks for an immersion experience to become the familiar. I am still not in my home environment and I know that; my partner is not here; my cats are not here; I don't have a car; and yet, I am into the routine of place and work. It feels a little odd and yet not.

Tonight I went out on my own to a Japanese restaurant I found in the (finally discovered) phone book. I didn't try the sushi, but did have the salmon and tempura, with a side of edamame. Mmmm, I had missed the edamame. They served theirs cold, but it works when it's 95 degrees outside and the beans aren't frozen. I waited until about 6:00 to go out and the temperature dropped to 94. I walked just over a mile to the restaurant. Ate. Paid and left. Then walked back a different way, about 1.5 miles and picked up a McFlurry about half a mile from the campus. I figured there would still be some ice cream (or at least a shake-like substance) by the time I got back to the dorm. Which was just about right.

And here I am at the computer, posting to my blog. Wondering if anyone is reading it. If my partner is checking in once in a while to see what's up. We haven't talked much on the phone because we're both busy with what we're doing. She is getting ready for a show which opens next week, teaching, and seeing clients ... and painting. I will post a link to her blog with a couple of pictures from the upcoming show. Me : busy with mentoring/teaching and grading and caught up in the little things like trying to figure out what happened to an important document a part-time employer sent me 11 days ago which should have been here by now, and where is the blackberry battery I ordered and was shipped on the 15th and arrived here on the 18th but it's not in my hands. Those little things of daily life. So we email more than we talk on the phone because we don't have to be on the same schedule for that.

I also had the unique experience last night of seeing a couple of my partner's paintings for the first time. Completed paintings which I had not seen in various stages and re-dos and "honey, what do you think about this" questions. It gave me the opportunity to see them with fresh eyes; as a newcomer to the viewing. It was nice. I must admit, and she already knows, that sometimes I can't look at the twenty-fifth alteration of someone's navel or right hand without wanting to flee from the room. I know it's the process, but sometimes I really like something at one stage and then come home at the end of my work-day to discover that what *I* liked is gone and it is halfway a new painting. It's hers and she can do what she wants; but I have learned to not get too attached to one version .... unless it's the one hanging in the gallery. Perhaps that sometimes blocks my ability to see them in general. So, it was a real treat to see the finished painting and go, wow.

I am definitely into the routine here and I still like all the people I am working with. And I will be glad to get home. And glad to be, at least for a little while, 'cold' because it is only 75-80 degrees.

Monday, March 24, 2008

returning to center

I just returned from a few days at the coast. I thought I would be spending five days there. That was whittled to four due to the need to get all of my tax information in order for my accountant before leaving town and it taking far longer than I planned.

I delayed my target leave day of Thursday afternoon until Friday morning; then stayed up all night - completing my tax organizer and submitting it, with all of my notes, at 5:30 am. Ouch. I slept two hours and was awakened by the alarm. The first words out of my mouth were, "I don't know how I'm going to make the drive on only two hours sleep." My partner answered, "you're not; go back to sleep." I did.

I woke up about three hours later, tossed clothes, laptop, book, and more papers to grade and videos to watch into the car, and we headed to Eugene. Where I was going to nap in the car and read my book while my partner and brother-in-law went through their father's belongings to see what to keep and what would be disposed of. What I thought would be maybe three hours starting around noon, when we'd decided on this plan earlier in the week, became about six hours beginning at five in the afternoon due to a late start and it just taking longer. Not a problem. I had a good book and could use the sleep. And we had great pizza and homemade beer. And arrived in Newport at one in the morning.

I awoke to a rare beautiful and calm day on the Oregon coast around noon. I made coffee, plugged in the laptop, connected to the internet and opened up Mozilla. Oops - DNS error; cannot connect to server. I tried again. I'll spare you the details. I spent a couple hours trying to figure out what was wrong: was it the laptop or the connection? Luckily my Blackberry had internet access so I could try to troubleshoot the problem. Unfortunately the Blackberry couldn't log me into Blackboard to retrieve student scores or into the grading system to post grades once I had the information I needed (which also included the scores from the other half of the class I was co-teaching). I did a search through my Blackberry and found places in Newport with WiFi. Bingo - among them was the public library.

I love the library! Not only did they have WiFi, but they also had public computers. So I took my laptop (in case it was the connection and not my computer) and headed to the library for what ended up being three hours. And it was the connection. Whew! I love the library for their books, as well ...but on Saturday, I loved them even more for giving me access to my students' information.

Grades done. Dinner at one of my favorite sushi restaurants, Sada's. Then back to the condo to finish up the distance students feedback (other than videotaping that information for them, which I will do Wednesday and Thursday and mail on Friday). To bed about 1:00 AM.

Sunday I woke up around 11:30 to pouring rain, high winds, and 45 degrees. But it didn't matter. I was at the coast. Made coffee, toast with peanut butter, and Morningstar sausage, with a Jazz apple. Sat on the sofa, opened the curtains, and watched it storm.

Ahhh. I love the coast. And I didn't have internet access so the laptop stayed off. I watched the waves pounding the beach and the wind blowing the seagulls backwards and a lone para-surfer on the beach. His red and black sail pulling him up and down the beach, once being lifted from the water (or so it looked from the warmth and dryness of my view), and slick and smiling in his wetsuit.

Today it was sunny, again.

And now I'm home.

Not as relaxed and rejuvenated as I'd hoped I'd be at this time - but definitely more centered from having a little time away. And my taxes were in on time, my grades were in on time, and my feedback is ready to be taped. Before I started this writing, I looked at my schedule and blocked out another long weekend in the not too distant future. I hope to plan a little better so I will have a day to just chill and read and sleep and then do some long hours of writing. I started a piece at the coast this afternoon and realized I just need a day or two offline to bring me back toward my center, the source of my creativity.

I remember a line I read when I was making a collage last night, something I just happened across while I was randomly selecting pictures: "and this is the wellspring where language bubbles up." Sometimes I need a little stillness to be able to hear it.

Fat meaty starfishes cling to a rock

Tuesday, February 12, 2008

Meeting Poetry

I'm on the road. Sitting in a kaitan sushi restaurant watching colored plates rotate before me, wondering which one to taste or what it is. As the flow of customers slow, I take up two spaces: one for me and one for the winter issue of Tricycle, splayed open on the counter space beside me.

With a half-eaten plate of dragon rolls before me, my breathing stops, followed by a deep inhale. The words on the page have leaped directly into my body and gone straight to my heart.

I whip out my Blackberry and, as the sushi continues to swirl on the belt and my dragon roll cools past room temperature, here is what I read.

"For a person to meet with a poem, or any deep expression, and make no response, is to have no heart, no nervous system. It is to show oneself 'uncooked,' a mere barbarian, with the shabbiest of table manners or bedroom etiquette.". Andrew Schelling writing about Murasaki Shikibu's belief in the article, "Whirling Petals, windblown leaves." Murasaki was a Japanese writer around the year 1000.