Good habits begin somewhere

That’s a good thing to remember when, on your first self-declared day of responsible funemployment, you wake up at 9:30 after staying up too late on Tumblr. It’s never too late to start over, though.

On the plane home from Thanksgiving in Ohio, I made myself a two-page list/motivational speech about how I’m going to use this time between graduation and finding a job. The list includes projects like learning more code, working on novels 750 words at a time, keeping up with running in cold weather and organizing get-togethers for people from my cohort who are still in Chicago.

Worrying is easy, of course: it feels like you’re doing something when you’re pretty much accomplishing the opposite. This Thursday I’m headed out to Seattle for a week, which is going to be phenomenal, but I’m already telling myself that this is a perfect opportunity to fall behind and fail before I get started.

Nope. It’s going to be okay, and I’m going to make this be okay, and I’m going to have a lot of fun doing it. I was wondering if anyone might have some recommendations for me in terms of websites where I can learn things.

  • I thought I’d try Code Academy for the coding part. I know Lynda.com is out there, but if I can avoid paying for something, I’d like to try that. (Unless someone wants to talk me into Lynda? We used it briefly during an Interactive Foundations-type class this spring, but, er, I did not use it as much as maybe I could have.) If anyone can speak to Khan Academy, I’d also be interested in hearing how they do, on any subject.
  • Going through all my photos in hopes of developing some sort of portfolio has really impressed on me that I need to take more and more interesting pictures. I’d like to find a reliable weekly photo challenge to follow: photochallenge.org and the official WordPress feed seem all right, but I’m happy to take other recommendations on, say, Twitter or Tumblr or something else I can follow on an RSS feed. I’m also going to try carting my camera around with me everywhere I go, and maybe referring to the Digital Photography School (or your favorite alternative!) for further help.
  • I’m getting a bit frustrated trying to find the right template for my RealName.com portal/portfolio. I don’t want much — a static, WordPress-based site where I can convince people that I have good clips, can do other good stuff that Medill taught me, and that I would make a great hire. Anyone know of a minimal, tweakable template that might do? I can build one myself, but I’d rather the site look a little better than that, in truth.

Recently I found a fabulous handout from The Writing Center at UNC–Chapel Hill about procrastination. It breaks down why we procrastinate and what we can do about it in a really straightforward, non-blaming way, and it’s advice we all can use, anytime. This is going in my bookmarks, and I plan on returning to it often.

It also helps me to check in with status reports on a regular basis, and I find that if I announce I’m going to do something, that keeps me generally accountable about keeping it up. (Not always, true, but I’m chalking these both up to delay and not giving up. Some of these are even on my projects list.) So expect to see me checking in here once a week — maybe on Mondays, but we’ll see what works. If I haven’t, please feel free to prod me over Twitter or in my Tumblr askbox, which are the two most likely places I’ll see the reminder.

Another goal: get good enough at ukulele to justify buying a really nice one
Another goal: get good enough at ukulele to justify buying a really nice one

Affirmation time! This could be a period of, as Gus demonstrates above, hiding under the table. But I don’t think it will be. Off to go do things, gang! And please, if you have recommendations (or un-recs) on any of the points above, take to the comments and let me know what you think.

Happy Monday, all! Yeah, I said it. ♥

Welcome to the world, new Medill MSJs

I woke up this morning with nothing on my to-do list.

Okay, to be fair, that’s a hideous lie. I have jobs to hunt, fiction to write, books to read for pleasure, groceries to buy, an absolute hole of an apartment that I’ve been neglecting in favor of bigger projects, and I need to call my dad. But I have no more schoolwork to worry about: I’m done with my master’s program at Medill, unless there’s a secret handshake I still need to be taught.

My last paper was actually for an undergraduate class I took about depictions of war in entertainment media, which I turned in on Wednesday, hoping my professor will grok that in order to cite quotes from David Simon characters, you get to become one with some pretty amazing foul language. But my capstone project, that came together on Tuesday. I spent Friday through that morning doing pretty much nothing else. This was definitely the kind of weekend where you order one extra large pizza and live off it for a day or two, at which point you order more carryout, because who has time to go outside?

But it’s done, a long form nonfiction narrative (as they call it) about shape note singers, of which I am very proud. Fingers crossed, I can sell it somewhere and you all can read it and see where my lost weekend went.

Wednesday night Medill threw us a party, or at least a very nice get-together. I got to see classmates I hadn’t seen in months, thanks to our schedules, and there was an awful lot of “How is this year over already?” Some of us have jobs and internships, and I could not be happier to see where everyone is already landing. A lot of us are sort of scratching our heads and wondering where to go next, but I’ve seen us do some pretty amazing things over this past year. We’re all going to be fine.

What a year, though, right? I’ve been trying to keep a list for myself of the big stories we’re going to remember our MSJ year by: Manti Te’o. The Boston Marathon bombings. Pope Francis. Mandela. And snow… something. Snowbird? Snowflake? I’m sure it’ll come to me.

But, to be completely schlocky, what I’ll really remember is how I had the absolute joy and pleasure of getting to meet and work with and learn from so many amazing people that might never have otherwise been in my life. Whether we were racing between Evanston and downtown with an hour and a half between classes or biking 25 miles to see a botanic garden, grousing all night in the newsroom or watching the sun rise over Lake Michigan, tramping up and down Lawrence Avenue/26th Street/Sheridan Road to find sources or taking vanity to new and exciting heights, I’m glad we did it together. I really like you, cohort. Thanks for being so great. Let’s stay close, time zones and distance be damned.

I came to Medill after a very unhappy year. My mother died, and getting into Medill, to finally, actively move toward a career that I chose and want was the first good, big thing that had happened for what felt like a very long time. The other day I found myself realizing that this is a whole life accomplishment that I’ve done completely without her. I wish she could know; I wish she could see what I’ve been doing. (She knew it was coming, or at least something I wanted. She used to hassle me about whether I’d written my application essays and talked to my recommenders yet.)

I recognize her in a lot of the things I focus on or write. She used to say that our family business is stories: she was a psychologist, my dad is a retired English professor, my two sisters have been deeply invested in opera and photography, one niece is studying musical theater and my oldest nephew wants to make films. I’ve been writing fiction since I was 4. Journalism is such a natural thing for me to fall into, it’s a wonder I didn’t think of it sooner. But I’m glad I’m doing it now. I’m really excited about where my life is going to go.

So many people are so proud of me, I know. They’ve helped me get here with their love and support, and I cannot, I cannot thank them enough. Thank you, Dad. I love you. Thank you Neil and Steve and Elizabeth, for vouching for me. Thank you friends, who talked me down on bad nights and second-read my words and gave me better ideas and kept me happy with a life outside of school. Thank you Marcel and Charles and Michael and Louise, Steve and Rachel and Alan and Candy and Kurt. Thank you to Kim at Career Services, who is going to keep saving my neck when I freak out about my cover letters. Thank you to everyone who’s going to keep helping me. Secret handshake, Medill Mafia — we’re going to have fun together.

A little less than a year ago, I wrote Things I did on my first day of grad school. On Thursday, I woke up with a master’s degree under my belt. I’ll say it again, guys: what a freaking year. The next one’s going to be just great. Lots of love, gang. See you all along the way.

First day of the rest of my life

David, the king, was grieved and moved

Not many recordings can bring me to tears before the words even start. This lesson from the Second Ireland Sacred Harp Convention got me where I live right away. “David’s Lamentation,” Sacred Harp 268:

David, the king, was grieved and moved
He went to his chamber and wept;
And as he went, he wept and said:
“O my son,
Would to God I had died,
For thee, O Absalom, my son!”

I’ll have a lot to say about shape note singing and Sacred Harp very shortly, as it’s the topic of my capstone project at Medill, which is due this Tuesday. Until next week, assume I am hard at work on that — unless, of course, I’m poleaxed by human voices and a good pair of headphones again.

If you, dear listener, need a bit of a balm after that emotional suckerpunch, I’d recommend, from this same convention, this beautiful, joyous “Hallelujah.”

Yes. Yes, this is exactly what Cymbeline needs!

Cymbeline is directed by Michael Almereyda (Hamlet), based on William Shakespeare’s original text. Ethan Hawke (Training Day, The Purge) stars in the film which unfolds as an epic battle between dirty cops and a drug dealing biker gang set in a corruption-riddled 21st century America. The film also features Ed Harris, Milla Jovovich, Penn Badgley, Anton Yelchin, Penn Badgley, John Leguizamo, Bill Pullman and Dakota Johnson. The film has landed distribution in various territories around the world, but doesn’t yet have a distributor in the United States, and thus has no current release date. Stay tuned for updates. Thoughts? (source)

So many. The first being that the women are the stars of this play. It is so, so not about the dudes. Cymbeline himself is a weak king with a Lear-like temper and a Leontes-level ability to make good character judgments. Pisanio is an awesome secondary character but mostly inasmuch as he serves and helps Imogen. Iachimo (Hawke’s character) is often played as the evil-but-funny villain! Posthumus is a doofus! And I say that as someone who adores writing him. Imogen is who gives the play weight and an arc; it’s the Queen who is the real antagonist.

The trailer was up briefly, but then taken down. It mostly looked like strutting and posturing — and, unsurprisingly, almost exactly like the director’s Hamlet, particularly Dan Humphrey — sorry, Penn Badgley as Posthumus. The only good thing I’m seeing right now is that PJ Ransone has an unnamed role in the thing.

I really want a great Cymbeline movie. I really, really do. But I do not have good feelings about this one. If it rage-spurs me to get moving on Innogen and the Hungry Half again, though, that, at least, might make it worth my time.

(Once upon a time I wrote up some thoughts and feelings from a non-theater professional about how I’d love to see this play staged. Hey, who knows, maybe this film will surprise me. Don’t all you crickets chirp at once, though.)

You can pick it up if you come down with ID.

This month is — who knows why — supposed to be the month for stories. I’m a big proponent of (Inter)National Novel-Writing Month, and I even said I would be sort of trying it in bits, even as my time at Medill winds down to its final weeks and the final project–a long form narrative piece that I’m rather excited about–looms ever larger.

Part of that has been The Shallow Project, which has been a blast, even if the photo element has proved easier at maintaining than the writing part; and part of that has been a side Tumblr I’m keeping for a story that I know very little about. Which is interesting, because usually when I start (or even fail to start [yet]) a story, I generally know some salient facts about the end, or the premise, or the characters. Right now I’ve got a setting, the barest amount of backstory for the two protagonists, and a vague idea of how writing this story is going to be intensely personal in that way that may or may not be obvious from the outside.

To be fair, I didn’t have any ideas about my half of The Shallow Project before we began, and all I needed for that was to move the story forward every single day. With writing, though, I want to be more certain. I’ve got some bits and bobs — I originally set myself a 750 words a day goal, but then, well, school — and I’m pleased with myself for just writing scenes or character moments, rather than obsessing about plot. When I make the time for it, though, I’d like to sit down with Chuck Wendig’s foul-mouthed and actually perfect questions to answer for character enrichment (which seems more doable than making my way through this comprehensive list of other great ideas). One thing I love about improv is that the story comes from character interaction, not a plot determined by an outside force. I have some plot points in mind, but more than that, I just need to know enough about my characters to set them loose and let myself be surprised.

It should be interesting. I’m not explaining much in public, but if you’re curious:

If you want to ask me (in comments, on Tumblr or over email) any questions about this project, please do! It will probably help me, in all truth, and that I always appreciate.

So! Who wants some links? Internet privacy and democracy, actual spoken Akkadian, unpaid internships and a cello-piano hybrid beyond the jump, plus more!

First I would like to mention that I remembered that I finally have a really nice camera that makes even my messy apartment look amazing. Hurrah DSLR!
First I would like to mention that I remembered that I finally have a really nice camera that makes even my messy apartment look amazing. Hurrah DSLR!

Continue reading “You can pick it up if you come down with ID.”

Esther and Jordan present The Shallow Project

“So… what’s with all the selfies?”

It’s true, my Instagram account has been more active lately. But in service of a great cause: The Shallow Project.

My friend Jordan and I are embarking on a quest this month. We’ve set out to tell stories using social media, flash fiction and dollar store-purchases. What’s the plot? You’ll have to follow along to find out — because since we’re also bringing bits of improv in, we’re going to surprise ourselves too.

But we’re pretty sure it’s going to be a lot of fun.

People love to rag on selfies almost as much as they love to take them. (Hopefully you all know where I stand on the matter.) Really, though, we’re operating in a great tradition here.

Want to follow along? I live here on Instagram; Jordan lives here. Track #jesterly on Instagram to stay on top of new posts, or just keep coming back to our website. More social media infrastructure to come, but for now, you can get in on the ground floor.

Or, as one commenter put it, “Still not sure what’s going on, but your green dragon looks lovely.”

Yes she does, thank you, and she’ll be very happy to hear that.

The Shallow Project!

Phenomenal and charming: The Martha Raddatz Story (and some links)

That's my hand! P.S. She totally digs this photo.
That’s my hand! P.S. She totally digs this photo. © Medill

My day on campus was supposed to be over at 12:20, but I figured I’d stick around, since Martha Raddatz was speaking. You should remember Ms. Raddatz as the moderator of the 2012 vice presidential debates; she’s also a very accomplished political and foreign correspondent. I’m only a Medill student for (ulp!) less than two months, so I have to take advantage of opportunities when they come up, right?

Martha Raddatz, as it turns out, was awesome. She was beyond lovely and had some great, great stories and advice. You can stream the event (about an hour) here, and/or read about it in The Daily Northwestern. After she spoke, students were lining up to talk with her and take pictures with her. I was going to skedaddle and catch my train, but I figured I’d thank her, especially for her words about covering military and veterans’ issues. Except I couldn’t find my phone! So I just said hi, and went on my way. There’s always a reception after these things, so I snuck in for a cupcake and a quick chat with one of my classmates. At which point… I found my phone. Right in my pocket, where I’d put it, on silent, before the talk.

No, augh, really, don't look.
No, augh, really, don’t look. This is enough.

Luckily I did get a chance for a selfie with Ms. Raddatz, who was gracious and friendly even though her handlers were tapping their watches. (Alas, I think it’s one of my less flattering photos, which… happens a lot when you’re taller than everyone else, including the person taking your picture. Oh well! It’s not like I don’t have selfies covered. They’re an evolving art form and a means of sociopolitical expression, after all.)

So, now my weekend starts! Time for more reading, writing and reporting, and maybe a little bit of fun too. Maybe. For the meantime, some link-mongering! Below the jump, we’ve got stories about radical education in Matamoros, Mexico; portraits of pre-Taliban Afghanistan; access to live shows at the Globe (yes, that one); a breakfast recipe I need to adapt to be egg-free (stupid allergies), because it just sounds that good; diversity in comedy, and more!

Continue reading “Phenomenal and charming: The Martha Raddatz Story (and some links)”

Seven weeks of selfies and I outran zombies too.

I did this this morning.
I did this this morning.

An amazing thing happened this morning. For the first time ever, I finished a 5K training routine. What began in August as a way to pass time during a month-long break actually sort of became an obsession. I get it now. I smell worse and feel better than I have in years. Running? Let’s be pals. You’re addictive. You’re great.

I’ve got to hand it to Zombies, Run! for achieving the impossible, by which I mean convincing me that voluntary physical activity is, in fact, fun and rewarding and not just something you should do because of crushing societal pressure. And while I hesitate to call this a journey, just because of the horrific cliche, there have been some stunning highs and hilarious misadventures along the way. (Lesson learned: If you buy a pair of running tights online and they feel like they might fall down, don’t try and run in them anyway.)

I thought I was going to make this post on Monday, and I did in fact have a really amazing run two days ago. (Forty-two minutes at a pace of 10:16, what! Who am I, and how did I come to brag like this?) But the final ZR 5K mission is deceptive: it seems to end nine minutes before it actually ends, so runners: once you do the thing, don’t stop the app. They don’t really tell you to run or walk or just stand there wheezing, but just. Wait for the little voice that says “Mission complete!”

That said, I’ve been embarking on an experiment since my last post about running. I wanted to see if I could see changes as I progressed through the program. I’ll let you decide if that’s the case. Without further ado, I hope you enjoy (and laugh at/with) this gallery of selfies taken at the end of each run since September 1. Myself, I’d call it a decisive victory!

Continue reading “Seven weeks of selfies and I outran zombies too.”

We few, we happy few: Rewatching Band of Brothers

PBS starts airing The Hollow Crown in the United States this week, which of course will culminate with Henry V, source of the above and many other inspirational quotes. I have a lot of feelings about these productions, and if I can get my act together, I’ll post them as each episode airs. I’ll have a few other balls in the air by then, though: not only does my final quarter at Medill start a week from today, but I also plan on revisiting one of my great storytelling loves of all time, HBO’s Band of Brothers.

In some ways, I’m in journalism school because of this show. I owe my interest in oral histories to a friend who, knowing I liked this miniseries, shoved Studs Terkel’s “The Good War” into my hands and told me I had to read it. During my newsroom quarter, I focused on reporting on veterans and military families, which is, I’ve discovered, a beat for which I maintain a passion. If I’m honest, my interest in the paratroopers of the 1940s pushed me to seek out the stories of today’s service members, to whom I’m very grateful for their trust.

Michael Cudlitz (Bull Randleman) and I can do it!
Michael Cudlitz (Bull Randleman) and I can do it!

For about a year and a half, I was one of those people who watched Band of Brothers on loop. I’ve read all the books (Brothers in Battle, Best of Friends by Babe Heffron and Bill Guarnere remains my favorite), I’ve visited museums, I’ve noticed dates that otherwise would have passed me by. And I’ve remained captivated by the process of building and assembling and creating a work like that. When history is so messy, and the way we remember even messier, how do you still tell a good story? How do you, as a writer or actor or producer, balance such profound and delicate responsibilities? Everything about Band of Brothers fascinates me, bottom to top. (The actors still hang out and call each other by their character names, did you know that? More than a decade later, they’re that close.)

I’m looking forward to coming back with a fresh set of eyes. I don’t think I’ve seen an episode for at least a year and a half, and it’s probably been two or three years since I last saw the whole series. But I’ll admit to some hesitation about diving back in. Caring about Band of Brothers means you also care about the surviving men of Easy Company. You hear about it when their health fails or they pass away, and even if you knew an actor’s portrayal instead of the man himself, your heart still aches a little. Many of the websites and forums that used to post notices seem to have gone quiet in the intervening years; I almost don’t want to know who we’ve lost since I last checked in.

Actors filming Episode 5, "Crossroads"
Actors filming Episode 5, “Crossroads”

I also wonder about the place of Band of Brothers in U.S. American society itself. No matter how harrowing the art, war and art are always going to be different. It’s the art that tends to become part of our mythology, though, and I have a lot of questions about that.

There’s a lot of art in Band of Brothers, and sometimes it demands that history steps aside. Not all of this is instigated by the producers: the men of Easy Company had decades to shape their own stories before Stephen Ambrose interviewed a one of them. At a certain point, the viewer has to accept that this story is going to be a collage rather than a photograph. Surely some postmodern philosopher-critic can come up with a pithy quote about truth and experience and record and the act of telling a story. (Suggestions welcome; comment away!)

I have the language to talk about Band of Brothers as a work of art; I will attempt to address some of the other attending issues, but I will probably mess up and miss the mark, so please, feel free to engage me in the comments when that happens. (Feel free to do so even if you don’t disagree with me! Even if it’s just “Oh my heart, that scene!” or “My favorite character!”)

I kept extensive (though not always useful) notes about my earlier rewatches. This is one of the useful bits:

Each episode has a focal character, a foil character and a clear theme. “Day of Days” is Winters, Guarnere and seeing the elephant. “Carentan” is Blithe, Harry Welsh and coping with fear. “Replacements” is Bull, Garcia/Hashey/Babe and taking care of each other, and so on. We have the first and last episodes that are really about everybody, and serve an explicitly narrative purpose — establishment (“Currahee”) and denouement (“Points”) — though even those had their themes, first among which I would say is unity. Other series themes include politicking and power dynamics (“The Last Patrol”), disillusionment and sudden truths (“Why We Fight”), and leadership and transitions (“Crossroads”).

Each episode has a very distinct cinematic and directorial flavor: “Crossroads” has Tom Hanks and his typewriters and the differing visual styles between frame story and flashback; “Bastogne” is a largely silent fairy tale; “The Breaking Point” has all those quick asides and intimate conversations; “Why We Fight” has the broken elegance of gentile Germany paired with the horror movie of finding the camp.

This is some of what I hope to focus on during this rewatch.

The real Doc Roe, Liebgott and Christenson at Eindhoven, September 1944
The real Doc Roe, Liebgott and Christenson at Eindhoven, September 1944

Before I close out, here are two links I unearthed that interest me, and may inform some of my thinking going forward:

Any further recommendations, links or articles or books or documentaries, would be most welcome. I also hope to reread Susan Sontag’s On Photography and Regarding the Pain of Others, and, if I do the timing right, at least a few of the biographies, autobiographies and oral histories from the veterans themselves.