In Cold Blood: Awesome Book. "Meh" Movie.

I recently read In Cold Blood by Truman Capote. 


Let's just start off that I am one of those people who struggle with reading non-fiction. In fact, I usually avoid it altogether, but if more non-fiction was written like this, I think I might branch out.


In Cold Blood in a non-fiction novel. It reads like fiction, which is great for people who don't normally read non-fiction.


For those of you (like me) who have never heard of In Cold Blood, let me give you a brief summary, courtesy of Goodreads.com:


On November 15, 1959, in the small town of Holcomb, Kansas, four members of the Clutter family were savagely murdered by blasts from a shotgun held a few inches from their faces. There was no apparent motive for the crime, and there were almost no clues. 
As Truman Capote reconstructs the murder and the investigation that led to the capture, trial, and execution of the killers, he generates both mesmerizing suspense and astonishing empathy. In Cold Blood is a work that transcends its moment, yielding poignant insights into the nature of American violence.


The interesting thing about this work is that Capote garners empathy not just for the murder victims, but for the murderers. We gain intimate knowledge of the killers--who they are, what they feel, etc. It's a bit eerie, a bit unnerving, to feel sorry for cold-blooded killers, but it's impossible not to. And that is not because Capote portrays them in a sympathetic light. No, everything in the story is a black-and-white, these-are-the-facts depiction. 


But that same in-depth research into the characters that made them so empathetic, so "human" in the written work, is a bit glossed over in the movie. Sure, we get glimpses of it, but it's not there in the degree that gives you chills in the novel. Of course, a movie is a movie and a book is a book, but if I hadn't read the book, I'm not sure I would have finished the movie. It was a bit boring, honestly. And that magic quality that enraptured and yet unsettled the reader in the book--the big thing that makes the story, in my opinion--was not present in the movie. Without that, it was just another tale about two psychos who murdered a family.


I am planning to watch the biographical movie "Capote" which illustrates Capote's research into the crime. I've heard it's really great--and I'm hoping that this movie will possess the qualities in the book that the movie "In Cold Blood" lacked.

I love PURPLE.

Prose, that is.


I love purple prose. Call it a weakness, an indulgence, a slide into writer-insanity, but I seriously love purple prose.

According to Wikipedia: Purple prose is a term of literary criticism used to describe passages, or sometimes entire literary works, written in prose so extravagant, ornate, or flowery as to break the flow and draw attention to itself. Purple prose is sensually evocative beyond the requirements of its context. It also refers to writing that employs certain rhetorical effects such as exaggerated sentiment or pathos in an attempt to manipulate a reader's response.


Honestly, most of my first drafts are so full of purple prose that it would make most writers cringe. Despite the above paragraph, I don't do this to "draw attention" to my writing. Instead, I do it because it's what comes naturally to me. I naturally write in that flowery, ornate way. To stifle that, or to try to correct myself, was seriously a pain in the neck and made first draft processes extremely long. Now, I embrace my purple prose and just write.


Funny, the more I learn about writing, the more I embrace the philosophy that in order to "be" a writer, you need to "just write." Ignore all the advice out there (good, great, and bad) and just write. 


When you get those words on paper then—and only then—do you take that advice (hopefully just the good and great kind) and apply it to your story. I've found that this is not only the best way to keep the vein of your story about, well, the story, but it will also help you stay true to your own voice.

The Pointless Journey of Self-Discovery

About once a week I have an epiphany. An "ah-ha!" moment where I discover some aspect of myself that was previously hidden from me. You'd think at that rate, I should have a pretty good grasp on who I am. And that would probably be true, if I would quit changing.

See, as we become more aware of certain traits in ourselves (and sometimes even traits in others), we adapt to embrace or reject that trait. (I think that might be the royal we.) For example, I've known for a long time that I'm a perfectionist. I could either embrace that aspect of myself or I could reject it. What did I decide? Um. Still working on that.

No, this isn't my arm. I'm not that hairy.

But I have decided that I'm going to quit trying to "find" myself, because once I do, I inevitably flit away again. Maybe that means I'm wishy-washy, but I prefer to call myself malleable.

I'm the type of person (most of the time) who will try anything once (the exception being something stupid or dangerous or both). Because of this, I find and gain interests at a rapid pace. I pretty much like everything, actually. I like politics, science, mathematics, English, poetry, foreign languages, crafts, mechanics (though I pretend ignorance so my husband doesn't actually make me change my own oil), dancing, music (ALL KINDS), crocheting, typing, puzzles, writing, gardening, fishing (surprise, surprise), exercising, running, shadow-boxing, painting, baking, cooking, drawing, etc. I could go on and on. In fact, most of the time I feel a bit overwhelmed by all my interests and will find myself torn over which ones to pursue. (You ever heard that song by Terri Clark, "I Wanna Do it All"? That's totally me. But at the same time that I have all these diverse interests, I'm hesitant to share them with people for fear of coming across as less than knowledgeable/talented/experienced. Why? Must be the perfectionism kicking in.

But I'm slowly becoming okay with my wishy-washiness, my scatter-brained eagerness to discover and learn and try more and more things. Now, if that perfectionist side of me would only get with the program and let me crow about my interests without fear that someone will come along and call my efforts pathetic.

What are your interests? Any that you've recently acquired?

Tired of Being Superwoman

I'll admit, I'm not a huge fan of the holidays. The commercialism, the politically-correctedness (is that a word?) of it, just makes me nauseous. I seriously want to go hermit and hide October through November.

Granted, there are things that I DO like about the holidays: Christmas carols, pumpkin pie, family gatherings, old movies, cold nights and hot chocolate, snuggling with your spouse. But anymore those things tend to take the back seat to the constant rush of the season. It's all about shopping lists and late-night baking frenzies and long trips to see people you're not even sure if you like.

Sigh.

Piling all this seasonal pressure on my already over-full schedule is just a disaster waiting to happen. I feel it today, especially. The day before Thanksgiving, and instead of ruminating on all the joys of Thanksgiving and all the things that I'm thankful for, I'm worried about cooking and schedules and resenting the fact that we have to go to my in-laws when all I really want to do is spend all day noshing at my parents' house (and I love my in-laws, I really do . . .but, well, they're not family-family). It's been all about compromise for me. And you know the thing about compromise: it never makes you happy.

So, I'm not all that happy. I'm stressed, is what I am. Fracturing, truthfully. About to blow my top. Every spare moment of my time has been dedicated to racking up the volunteer hours I need for the class I'm taking, and while I enjoy volunteering it's a far cry from the relaxing "me time" I need to keep my sanity.

Honestly, if it weren't for running, I would probably have gone crazy a week or so ago. But running keeps me sane. If it didn't take so much of my energy, I would probably be happy as a clown right now. But, well, running can be HARD (especially when you push yourself to go faster, further and harder each time, like me) and it makes me tired. And everyone knows (or soon will) that a tired Brandi equals a I-want-to-rip-your-eyes-out Brandi. Never good.

In order to keep this from happening (and destroy the "oh, she's such a sweet person" impression that my in-laws have of me) I'm going to take tonight off. Just me, the hubby (who'd better cooperate and be nice to me), the furry babies and some trashy movie that makes me laugh. Maybe some hot chocolate, too.

That will certainly give me a few things to be thankful for (like having the state-of-mind not to attack people for no reason).

Happy Thanksgiving!

Revamping

So, it's been a while.

I keep popping on here to write thoughtful and interesting tidbits on writing and reading, and then I stop. Either discouraged or bored by my own ramblings, and fade quietly back into the blogosphere. I still read blogs. Quite a bit, actually, but I rarely, if ever, comment on them. It probably makes my online friends feel like I don't care (or that I've died), but I do (and I'm still alive). I just felt like I was stagnating, regurgitating the same old things (cursings and musings) over and over. I felt unoriginal. I didn't feel like a very inspiring or even interesting person, let alone a writer.

Therefore, I stopped doing the whole blogging thing because, well, I couldn't handle the pressure of constantly coming up with a new, sparkling idea. Instead, I threw myself into a personal blog (which is private) and basically blogged about anything and everything that popped into my head. But since it wasn't writing related, I thought that it wouldn't be a good fit for this blog.

And then I had an epiphany. Why does this blog have to be just about writing and reading? Why can't it be about ME? I mean, I'm not anyone special or particularly exciting, but I'm sure a few of you might find my quirks interesting. And, believe it or not, I can be humorous and witty and even knowledgeable on some occasions.

So here I am. Back. To revamp Cursings and Musings and retake it for my own. This blog is going to reflect me from now on, and I'm an ever-changing, organic person. Are you ready for it?