I’ll stand back here with the posers.

by Rina Pritchard

I think some of us resist delighting in our accomplishments or even, simply, the good times. Maybe fearing they’ll end too soon or that we are undeserving of the joy of this magnitude, the success of such weight, or opportunities this wonderful, as though our self-esteem hasn’t yet caught up. So, we examine it, nearly pick it apart. We end up not sharing these fleeting moments and they become archived in this backlog of experiences, filed away in a hard drive of “Things that didn’t make it.”

We aren’t left with regrets, just recollections.

But that feeling of h i g h .

Have you ever reached a level of High that although yields excitement, it’s still vertigo?
That although you’re lifted by the hands and shoulders of others, you’re still afraid of heights.

But you dislike mosh pits, intentional collisions and skin too close to yours.
So, you get down.

In spite of the thrill, flattery, applause and the people flooding your space,
The noise got too loud
The space dwarfed in size
The air suffocating.

You get down and think you’re safe
That you can breathe
You can see the floor
Your feet making contact with the ground

But no one knows about you here.
Your name – unheard of.
Your sense of purpose is lost on you.

It wasn’t that you wanted to extinguish your light, but it was that you didn’t want to burn too brightly, only to burn out.

So, burn out.
Burn out, so you can find that spark.
Check out
Check out to check back in.

Maybe it’s essential for us to get a little bit of ourselves out as if we are emptying pockets of quarters, so we can move better or walk a bit faster.

We may feel lighter for a few moments before feeling bogged down again. But it’s important for us to release, to unclench our fists. It’s important for us to get out of our way.

But how can we come back?
Is there turbulence on the return flight home?
What are we truly made of?
How do we stay self-effacing?

I will continue to romanticize the underdogs
The otherness
The spaces in between
The gray areas
The forgotten writers
The overlooked ones
The deep cuts
The arrivals
The departures
The returns
The ones and things that don’t stay for long.
The increments
The measures over full doses
The ideas over the real thing.

Can we write, can we make anyway, despite the output?
Begin to stop identifying with the form and start identifying with the formless?
Continue to see the cracks in spaces but also fall into them?

Rather than embody our personalities, can we embody moments?

Are we romping in the world of art like we are children playing make-believe because there are no right or wrong answers? Or did we already delete that thought at our first encounter with defeat? If art has fueled us or given us a purpose, I hope we return after long seasons of dry spells.

Return, arrive, show up as you are — wordless, uninventive, bare, ordinary.

We might lose all senses, go mad, and find a detachment from a reality we’ve known too well. Whichever medium we use to demonstrate our passion, we all share an acute understanding of feelings and a lot of it.

We meet in the middle.

We exchange afflictions.

We look at each other and say, “I see you.”

We toast to bad habits.

We cheers to old flames.

We look at ourselves merely by looking at each other.

And arrives this literary progeny we’ve somehow birthed simply by losing it.

Be full, indulge. Then feel empty.

Restore.

Have your seasons and embrace the patterns.

You’ll trip over your own foot, smack your face on the pavement, curse like a sailor and lose your better judgment, but you’ll have created an art worthy of sharing with someone in dire need of a reality from the one they experience every day.

So, although the sound of our voices, the spotlight and the social realm make us cower, we should allow ourselves the chance to claim our space.

To claim without attachment.

David Foster Wallace Talks Talent, the Inferiority Complex and Being a ‘Literary Heavyweight’

I’ve been reading about David Foster Wallace in Although Of Course You End Up Becoming Yourself by David Lipsky. It’s a book in a transcript/interview format that tells the exchange between Rollingstone reporter and editor David Lipsky and Infinite Jest author, David Foster Wallace. They take a road trip. They sit with his dogs. They confess. They tell and find common ground.

I am the backseat passenger, the customer behind two dudes in line engaging in brilliant conversations that consumes me. Like being on the outside looking in, being incredibly drawn even though I can’t keep up with every inside joke, every esteemed piece of literature.

So many profound little bits here, this one in particular. Wallace sheds some insight into how reviewers will use his “first book as a noose to hang” his second. He also mentions how authors can be easily displaced because of new authors or “better” works hitting the market.

Wallace, an introspective soul as human as they come, arrives with profound insight as a writer, as a writer tackling topics that confound him some that include but are not limited to fame, prestige or life in general. Especially here; I love how he articulates or sometimes struggles to articulate, given his thought-riddled messy cognition, how he doesn’t identify with “more talented” or “less talented” or if something is “shit.” Rather, he thinks, “Man, there might be something here, but I just don’t get it. This is just not my cup of tea.”

How refreshing! How easily someone can dismiss a piece of work that fails to get across, so they reach for the closest, easy to grab, sorry excuse they could find instead of reasoning and sympathizing with the artist.


Wallace’s response is genuine and thoughtful because as someone who’s too into himself, too inside his own mind, David knows and knows too well how it’s like to go through these waves, how the “envy stuff” just burned him and how that kind of mindset can tear you up. He doesn’t “wanna send any blood supply to that part” of his brain anymore.

To be revered for your work and to want more recognition, it’s a vicious cycle and everyone’s out competing in a saturated market for the same small slice of the pie.

“And it’s not like I’m above it. It’s just that it — the amount that it hurts me, outweighs whatever good feelings it gives me.”

“Finn’s Girl, Ruby” – The Theme of Self-Love

author viola day theme of self-love
VSCO photo: @beidly

Finn’s Girl, Ruby explores the theme of self-love. Kaplan, whose favorite movie is True Romance and who has ditched a career as a lawyer to pursue photography, keeps Madison at bay. A tortured artist to describe him in the least, he effortlessly remains an enigma—displaying only that tip of the iceberg—because, like many of us, he feels as though he has barely made it this far in life merely by tailoring himself to others.

By shaping ourselves around others, we feel desirable and interesting because, hell, if others were to discover the kind of person we believe or think we are, it’ll devastate us. We’ve convinced—maybe even duped—others to believe we’re hunky-dory most days, forthright in our disposition and even resilient when really, we talk around what we mean or allow ourselves to shatter once we get home to an empty apartment. Because once others learn how we operate, we’re afraid they’ll think we’re just like the rest of them—like vanilla, uninteresting, unlikeable, or disingenuous because we invited them to lump us into some category of species to which we’ll find insulting or untrue.

In turn, it accelerates from there. We know we’re a phony, pathetic even. Just like Kaplan, we’ll accept the type of “love” or any degree of attention we think we deserve, let it be isolation or self-hatred. When someone doles out a compliment to us, we find it glib or gratuitous.  Since we dislike ourselves and feel as if there is this paragon of Us that we must be, we unfairly hold others to a high standard. Furthermore, we don’t allow ourselves to remove ourselves from unhealthy situations or thinking patterns because it’s become more comfortable for us to brood than to reorient our way of seeing.

Madison and Kaplan have this profound sense of viewing the world, which people fail to discuss or even have the capacity to understand. Their method of understanding or seeing is oftentimes nauseating with its many layers, which these characters don’t deplore getting sick and exhausted over. Because in the end, they always end up finding one another.

I like to think life can be more easily navigated if we just allow ourselves to be who we are—ghosts n all.

Overcoming Creative Slowdowns and Writer’s Block

Creating is tough in a society where everyone will misunderstand you for a potato. It’s full of ups and downs and pauses.

Like when I get stuck. When I’m lost in the fog, wandering in the doldrums. When my brain reaches a pause, a necessary step before it can catch up with itself.

But it’s essential–the stagnation. It’s a stall, a completely normal episode that must happen in the writing process where I can wander back on track and continue Freewheeling off the beaten path where, although bumpy and sickening, is worth every mile in my progress.

When I’m standing still…

I’ll let it win.

I’ll try to fight writer’s block, but in the end, I’ll accept my defeat. During this creative constipation (if you will), I’ll tend to other things that require my attention (feeding the goldfish, scraping hard bits of pasta from my Dutch pot) before I can resume. Creativity is shy and it’ll demand sometime before it reveals itself.

I’ll unplug from the social realm.

I need to cleanse. When I find myself tumbling down the rabbit hole of the social sphere, I’ll seek isolation. The social world cripples the Self, but I’ve learned to put the phone down for days on end before I find myself regressing back to an unhealthy state. To write from within, I need to disconnect. There are moments of desperation where I’ll compare myself to others, whose journey and timeline differ from mine. It’s no fair match or should be one at all.

I’ll go out.

By embracing these dry spells, I’ll go out. I’ll surround myself with people. Pick dandelions. Climb a tree. I’ll then receive a text from Inspiration letting me know they’re on their way because their drunk cousin, Procrastination, fell asleep on his car keys.

I’ll read, watch and listen.

I seek inspiration from works I know and appreciate. I’ll reopen a favorite paperback or listen to meaningful songs. I’ll pick up new books for some fresh talent that will help grease this engine and hopefully get the momentum going.

I’ll just write.

It’ll read neither here nor there and I’ll believe I was someone else an hour ago, but the fact of the matter is there is something there: written words. Sometimes, onward and upward trump stagnation. Experimenting is essential to creating, like a mental exercise. You’d be surprised at how much you can bend without breaking.

I’ll seek the company of other creators.

Surrounding myself with other writers or artists making things happen renders me that drive. I like connecting with them, learning about their projects or their obstacles because, in the end, we’re not alone in that matter.

5 Tropes I Enjoy Using in Romantic Fiction

The enemies to lovers, the comic relief and the unsuspecting hero—we are no stranger to these plot elements, character classifications and exhausted themes peppered throughout works of fiction. They’re taken and rehashed only to be told from an author’s imagination, thinking it can play off last season’s argyle sweater with a cashmere scarf.

Books are filled with tropes and we devour it anyway.

But was it refreshing?
Did your stomach churn like butter?
Did you weep like an underpaid Applebee’s waitress saddled with student loan debt?
How about your nails? Did you chew them off after that hair-raising scare?

I like playing with tropes because they’re understood on a superficial level, yet still render a chance for authors to personally connect with a reader on a newfound degree. Here are a few I like to hang my hat on:

1. Hot-Mess-of-a-Protagonist Trope

She has a personality on her, cilantro between her teeth, is in between careers and says “Sorry” over a dozen times to a man she hit with her oversized carry-on. Sure, she’s that adorable younger cousin you’d prefer to leave at home instead of taking her out to meet your friends, but I cast her anyway because she offers a wealth of room for creativity.

2. Mysterious Character Trope

One of my favorite ingredients in the character development recipe. I feel like the sky’s the limit here. Mysterious characters are infectious and there is a gamut of ways in constructing them. From a troubled childhood to a relationship that spawned trust issues, we can’t help but ask, “WHO HURT YOU? WHO HURT YOU, ERWIN?!”

3. Friend Zone Trope

Ah, the sidelines where bench warmers unite. You don’t get to play, but you sure are the loudest cheerleader!

Everyone likes a nice girl. He is so quick to friend her, but she doesn’t mind as long as she can get five minutes of his time in between classes as he fills her head with his latest crush. (Sounds like a YA novel.) Because let’s be real, he can’t look past her obsolete tomboy days redolent of baseball tees and armpit farts and the girl he used to build forts with when they were seven.

4. Star-Crossed Lovers Trope

Think Pocahontas or Brokeback Mountain. No matter how hard characters try to make sense of a romance, they just can’t in reality even though it makes better sense up there.  Forbidden romances are tough pills to swallow, but there’s no better romance than one worth fighting and waiting for. Am I right?

5. Troubled Family Dynamic Trope

What do you remember from your childhood? Frederick Douglass once said,

“It is easier to build strong children than to repair broken men.”

It’s true that many capable and fully functional adults feel unfulfilled. Little do we realize that what did happen or what didn’t happen to us as children can greatly impact us later.

Characters are shaped by their upbringing. They don’t realize the weight of influence their youth has had on their adulthood. It goes without saying that family dynamics are complex in their nature and much more complex to flesh out in a novel, and by far, that has been one of the leading themes I struggle to tackle.

 

Top 7 Movies Writers Should Watch

Top 7 Movies Writers Should Watch by Rina Pritchard

Films have a way of inspiring us. While books, people and nature can open the minds of creators, movies hold an untouched charm to them, from their cinematography and screenplay to their overall theme.

Here’s my list of movies I think every writer should watch.

1. The End of the Tour

In March 1996, Rolling Stone magazine writer, David Lipsky, sets out to interview Infinite Jest novelist, David Foster Wallace. Wallace, played by Jason Segel, who hunkers down in Bloomington, Ill., participates in the five-day-long interview conducted by the overdetermined Lipsky, played by Jesse Eisenberg.

What this movie lacks in plot, makes up in character exploration. The dynamic between David Foster Wallace and David Lipsky is unreal, forcing us to pause the movie and sit back and say, “Oh, shit.” In this film, where an emotional connection is certainly felt, an intellectual connection is chucked to the back seat. Egotism is apparent but not regarding the Oxford comma. Writers experiencing inferiority or constant unfulfillment will get it.

2. Nocturnal Animals


A successful art gallery owner receives a book, written by her ex-husband. She is consumed by the compelling novel, a piece of genius that causes her to reevaluate her life and face her inauspicious reality.

Another movie writers should watch is Nocturnal Animals. Nocturnal Animals is filled with suspense, something we gobble up. If you’re interested in personal progression and telling others, “Yeah, I made it,” then I suggest this one. Writers who’ve been doubted by their closest peers will take comfort in the revenge in this film when even their dearest ones failed to root for them in their darkest corners.

3. The Words


Bradley Cooper steals another writer’s work and publishes it as his own.

It’s a good film to sit back and watch after pumping out 5,000 words from your last chapter. It has it all: writer’s block, literary plagiarism and inferiority. The Words is paramount to the world we live in today: how we can lose our voice for the sake of becoming someone idolized and esteemed in an era saturated with others like us.

4. Ruby Sparks


A character from Calvin Weir-Fields’ latest work comes alive. He soon learns that her feelings and actions are dictated by the words he writes on his typewriter.

Writers are everyone in their book—of course, we created them. We don’t have to find them in our kitchen making dinner for us to understand how real they are. Ruby Sparks is a delightful treat for authors who’ve ever wanted to meet their protagonist in the flesh.

5. Misery


Paul Sheldon gets into a car crash one winter day and is rescued by a crazed fan of his work. As she shapes him back to wellness (or not) her obsession escalates.

We mustn’t forget how influential our ideas and words are. In Misery, we get a fun, comical way of seeing how our books can greatly dominate our readers.

6. Once Upon a Time in Hollywood


Rick Dalton and his stunt double Cliff Booth try and make it in a Hollywood industry that’s ever-evolving.

Although an extremely random selection, I’d be remiss in not sharing this movie that writers should watch. In light of a period when cults and drugs ran rife in 1969, we find that Quentin Tarantino isn’t afraid to play with history. He’s got a far-fetched imagination and writers who mirror his outlandish vision will entertain the idea of unabashedly applying the same singular approach to their work.

7. The Wife


A husband is about to receive the Nobel Prize for literature as his wife tags-along and returns to a past that often catches up with her.

It’d be a sucker punch move for me to say that The Wife demonstrates patriarchy. Really, it’s more than that and frankly, that wasn’t on the forefront of my mind. I grew acquainted with three different writers in this movie: the empath with unmarred diplomacy, a hungry wandering-eyed narcissist, and a relentless writer with a role to fill who I’d say mediates the two. In The Wife, writers will reflect on their strengths and weaknesses and be reminded of their vulnerabilities and the people they love despite their dear one’s futile delivery.

 

The Kindergarten Teacher on Netflix is the film writers should watch next

I had no expectations upon watching the movie, The Kindergarten Teacher. Let me preface this by saying how could any writer – novelist, poet or artist – not value the message demonstrated here? I won’t give too much about the movie, but I advise any creator of words or pictures to see this independent drama.

Gyllenhaal plays the kindergarten teacher, named Lisa Spinelli, who we immediately understand is isolated and worlds away from a seemingly satisfying life she leads. She is then engrossed in one of her students, a precocious boy whose poetic talent is way beyond his years. We then find Mrs. Spinelli becoming strangely attached to his elusive gift, driving herself to preserve it. Okay… *exhales* I will stop there.

Mrs. Spinelli – You’re something else

Throughout the film, you’re left with this unsettling feeling, nestled in the pit of your stomach, aching to see how the plot will unfold. The Kindergarten Teacher was pleasantly uncomfortable to watch. I felt like some rag doll being fought between two 7-year-old girls – pulled one way and then the other – eager to know what will happen next. I couldn’t decide on how to feel about Mrs. Spinelli who, you’ll realize, remains frustratingly incomprehensible, even to the very end. Some might relate to her – the mid-life crisis complex, the crossroad or dead-end after fulfilling the quintessential adulthood prophecy, or the mere painful realization that you never truly attained your dream. You then want to feel sorry for her yet scorn her for her wildly inappropriate behavior. All in all, you might find yourself renouncing her unusual and unforgivable tendencies, thinking, “uh-huh, uh-huh, sure, sure,” and crossing your legs and rubbing your chin whilst thinking she’s mental.

In the last ten minutes of the film, the viewer then realizes Gyllenhaal’s impetus all along, which was said several times in the film. Then, it wasn’t, however, quite believable given her capricious disposition. Only at the end did I sympathize with her more, appreciating (yet not entirely agreeing) with her dire (and obsessive) efforts to protecting this character – this boy – or to some, this abstraction. It left me slapping my knee, in deep thought, and applauding her for her purpose all along, in spite of her aberrant conduct.

The Kindergarten Teacher’s bottom line

Like most indie dramas, there is some nebulous message waiting to be revealed, which with this movie, I won’t say. The message at the end of The Kindergarten Teacher, I feel, artists should invariably remember. Keep it and store it away, somewhere encased, locked away and behind a velvet rope. Scribble it down, tuck it into the back pocket of your Levi’s and pull it out to read and re-read to remind yourself in case you forget.