Monthly Archives: August 2012

There Are No Original Ideas (And That’s A Good Thing)

Everyone goes on and on about original ideas, yet the the notion of an original idea in art has only been with us for about one-hundred years. This concept was propagated by the Modernists who sought to abandon the superstitions and folklore of the past. These Modernists valued the strange and surreal over traditional storytelling. Novelists like James Joyce and William Faulkner wanted their stories to be difficult and complex. They thought that if the story were intricate, then it would supersede oral tradition. (Ironically, Joyce’s seminal work, Ulysses, modeled itself off of the Odysseus myth.) Even today, we look for originality as a sign that something is “good”.

Skipping to before the twentieth century, we see that folklore and tradition reign. People retold stories over and over again, in a game of telephone that lasted centuries. The myth of Odysseus wasn’t even written down for ages. People simply memorized the story.

There’s also something to be said for a good story. Myth and folklore have plenty of great ideas. So use them. Why struggle to come up with something brand new, when the old tales work. They have to work. They survived. It’s evolution for writing. Even the US Government acknowledges this. You can copyright an execution (how you write something) but not an idea. That’s why you typically see two or even three movies about the same subject from Hollywood: Dante’s Peak and Volcano; Armageddon and Deep Impact.

Take Frankenweenie. It’s a rehash of the Frankenstein story. But who cares. I plan to see it. The concept was reinvented by Tim Burton to become a macabre comedy. The original short film was hilarious. Now that’s it’s expanded into a full film, it should be hilarious. Do I constantly think back to how Burton pirated from Mary Shelly? No. I think of how inventive he was in his adaptation.

If you feel hemmed in as an artists because you simply can’t think of an idea, reverse your strategy. Look for good stories and then write your own take on it. Reimagine and reinvent. Put your own spin on it.

Tim Kane

A Love Hate Relationship with Feedback

Whenever people comment on my work (be it writing or the occasional artistic creation), I subconsciously want them to love it. I think we all do. And should said critic offer some helpful feedback, I instantly have the same knee-jerk reaction. “I put so much time into this. Why don’t you love it?”

As an artist, I know that change is good. I makes the art better. But it hurts. I’ve learned that the more it hurts, the better the ultimate project. Doesn’t mean it makes abiding by the criticism is any easier. It’s damn hard. I find that time helps me accept it better. If I try to take on the comments straight away, I get defensive and the work suffers. Yet if I give it a few days or a week, then I struggle through it.

That being said, some comments you need to ignore. Just because one person didn’t like something, doesn’t mean you have toss the bathwater (baby and all) out the window. I usually gauge my revisions as to how many people responded to it (another reason to have a good critique group). The more that thought something was off, then it’s probably off and should change. Only one person. Then keep it.

A great example of reaction to feedback is from the great sculptor Rodin. He had just finished the statue of Honore de Balzac. The figure had long robes with the hands poking out in front. It was four in the morning when he finished and he roused his students in order for them to appreciate his masterpiece. (Honestly, what sort of criticism could you expect from sleepy pupils?)

Each and every student loved the work. They went on and on about the hands. “What hands…Master. Only God could have created such hands. They are alive!”

Something snapped in Rodin (he was an artist, you know). He grabbed an axe. Horror stricken, the students threw themselves on him, trying to protect the statue. Rodin overpowered them and with one swing, he chopped off the magnificent hands.

He turned to his bewildered students and called them fools. “I was forced to destroy these hands because they had a life of their own. They didn’t belong to the rest of the composition. Remember this, and remember it well: no part is more important than the whole!”

Monument to Honoré de Balzac, first modeled 1897 by Rodin

I guess that’s one way to deal with criticism. I know one writing group that has a shredder in the room. Just in case. I’m not saying hack your work apart. Take some time. Otherwise your work will end up like Rodin’s statue. To this day, the statue of Honore de Balzac has no hands. The long sleeves appear to cover the hands, but we know what really happened.

Tim Kane

Foot in Mouth Syndrome

Charisma’s Cordelia Chase in ‘Buffy the Vampire Slayer never had much tact.

Some folks are born with a silver spoon in their mouth. Me, I had a foot stuck up in there. It seems I have no inner filter. If something pops into my brain, it shoots out my mouth. If I were enlisted, my lips would sink a whole lotta ships.

My most infamous slip involved meeting a friend. Before I was introduced, this friend was described as “big” and “large”. She was my senior, agewise on par with my parents. So when I met her, yes she was a tall woman. But of course, that’s not what popped through my brain. Instead I thought, and said, “I’ve seen bigger woman.”

Let me give you all a secret: women don’t like to hear such things. Even if is truthful.

Somehow, despite my lack for tact, I have developed a sort of filter when I teach sixth grade. Before becoming a teacher I cussed up a storm. Yet, beyond all expectations, I don’t let loose a stream of profanities in class. Even when certain students deserve it (yes, I’m looking at you).

Often these days, I spout out strange nuggets of geeky knowledge, like you can’t send bones through the US mail. Most of my coworkers are used to such strange outbursts. They even have an expression for me. It’s the line. I need to know where it is and not cross it.

Maybe someday there’s be an outbreak of foot in mouth and then we can all be brutally honest. Until then, tact lives on.
Tim Kane