death, disembowelment and writing

i often wonder about the level of cruelty that drives a person to write me to write.
a long time ago, in a different life that i once had, i was told that people who become shochets (jewish ritual slaughterers) and butchers are often driven to do so because they have, somewhere within, perhaps a drive towards violence, or murder, or lust for blood, or any of these bizarre things, and so this field is almost like a safe way of having those desires manifest themselves in something positive, like the killing and cutting up of animals for food. (disclaimer: i have no idea who told me this/where i read this, but i'm tempted to say that it was during a telephone discussion with someone having more jewish knowledge than i did at the time.) it seemed to make sense on some level: a person picks a profession based on their interests. of course, one could just as easily become a surgeon: blood, gore and good deed. whether or not i believe that there is any divine force that enters into this (i do not) isn't the issue. the issue is in cruelty.
i once had a student say to me "wow, this writer is really twisted to come up with such stuff." he was referring to the very last bit of steinbeck's grapes of wrath. (i'm not going to give the end away, sorry.) i've heard the same phrase used to describe stephen king's work. and that of charlotte perkins gilman. i've received comments from people saying the same thing about my own work. one of the best writing professors i've ever had, made the point that one must torture his/her characters. "whatever happens, make it worse. keep making it worse."
so i torture my characters. and sometimes, i make it worse and worse, but i don't make it better. so i torture my readers as well. sometimes i show such cruelty to my characters that i have to stop writing for a bit, just to regroup and remind myself that they're not real.
is it more cruel to be in a profession in which one regularly causes death and dismemberment and butchering and disemboweling? is that a healthy manifestation of whatever cruelty is inherent in the human psyche? is that an acceptable and normal way of acting on it? does one's profession has anything to do with one's personality? how many people in this day and age would gladly take a job clopping cattle on the head before sending them to their death? or, in jewish slaughterhouses, slash a cow's jugular (or whichever vein is being sliced open) with a specific ritually prepared knife in order to kill them?  or is it crueler to be a writer, where one routinely creates characters to torture? and where one may or may not hide bits of reality in fiction, as a way of torturing those who have wronged that writer?
do writers of psychological terror possess a higher level of cruelty than writers of ABC books for kids?
and when i torture my characters, am i more cruel than a butcher/baker/candlestick maker?
are killers of cows more cruel than killers of chickens?
if i still lived in the world of ritual slaughter, would i have been a knife wielding maniac, wearing blood-spattered hip boots and rubber coveralls, waiting anxiously for the next animal on my line?
would meatballs and spaghetti still taste as good?

trash and the things i think about

i'm done with capital letters on this blog. that's the main reason why it's been a whole season since last i posted. i was feeling extremely cramped by the formality of the upper case, and it wasn't sitting at all well with me. so i think that now that i'm able to go back to my lowercase comfort level, i will be able to post more often.

i'm currently working on trash, my novel project. it's driving me crazy. i think i totally screwed up the narrative voice, as i have several different voices speaking in first person. however, at times i'll look through certain points and find that the voices are, in fact, quite distinct and maybe it's not awful. so maybe it's not that i should be working in third person omniscient, but that maybe i need to make the voices more unique in the places where that uniqueness may be lacking. the war with the narrative voice(s) is out of control and for a bit was interfering with the plot and subplots. i am working within the shakespearian realm of tragicomedy, so my subplots are a bit bizarre, in direct opposition with the main plot, which is quite serious in nature. however, the two do tend to intertwine at times, so that's a fun mix. there is so much insanity, even with the main plot, that i really am grateful to my friends in law, law enforcement and medicine, who have been eagerly helping me to make sure that my main plot remains believable. 

just to keep it real here, i should provide you with a bit of the important....

a quick list of some of the things i think about when i think people aren't looking

-is there a direct correlation between underwear size and price?

- do clothing designers get a sick thrill out of purposely creating ugly garments and seeing people purchase and wear their creations?

-are the artists who design the designs on toilet paper told that they are going to be used on toilet paper? did matisse start out as a toilet paper artist?

-when will mosquitoes become extinct?

-why don't they make nicer sounding voices for people who've had a tracheotomy?

there are other things i think about, but i need to save something for my next blog post, several seasons from now. the good thing is that maybe i don't have to completely overhaul that narrative voice.

10 Reasons Why a Nuclear Holocaust Wouldn't Be That Bad

I'm not really the type of person to be all gung-ho about war or nuclear holocausts, however, these are things I tend to think about. And I think about them in very unorthodox ways. Then again, most of what I think, and subsequently say,  is quite unorthodox, and I daresay that's why people keep listening. So, since it's been a while since I've posted, and since there have been a few other incidents to overshadow the horrors in Japan, thus forcing it out of the news cycle, I'd say that now is a good time to write the list I've been itching to write since the word "Fukushima" entered my vocabulary.

10 Reasons Why a Nuclear Holocaust Wouldn't Be That Bad

1. Never have a bad hair day again. Of course, it's likely that you won't be having any kind of day again, but you're guaranteed that whatever it is, it definitely won't be a bad hair day.
2. That extra arm-hand combination growing out of your abdomen ensures that you'll never again have to bend down to pick things up. Great for people with bad backs.
3. People with cancer would be cured with radiation. However, people without cancer might actually get cancer. But they'd be quickly cured. Win-win.
4. If you hate your job, don't worry. You're probably not going back.
5. No more seasonal allergies!
6. In debt up to your eyeballs? It's unlikely that your creditors will be contacting you.
7. The world becomes a squatter's paradise.
8. All of those horrible social engagements that you were tied to are now very unlikely to take place.
9. Great hallucinations without the hallucinogens.
10. No more painful visits to the in-laws!

Of course, you wouldn't be able to read Bus 174, my latest story on New Vilna Review....

my radio interview

A while back, in another life, I posted the transcript of a radio interview that I had done and after many years (I posted this on my old blog back in 2008) I thought it would be a great post to share again.

the other day i was lucky enough to be interviewed (by phone) on a prominent new york radio station regarding my upcoming film, "i eat goat." here is the transcript.

transcript of bec's radio interview

interviewer: today we have a very special guest via telephone from israel, bec ______, the up and coming writer who has put together the comedic documentary, "i eat goat," due to hit the indie film festivals this summer. hello bec!

bec: hey! i'm sorry, what's your name again?

interviewer: bob.

bec: hey bob!

bob: hey bec!

bec: hey bob!

bob: hey yourself. so bec, how did you get started in film?

bec: well, it all started one evening when my husband and i were ordering food from this pakistani-italian restaurant and they didn't have lamb karahi.

bob: really?

bec: they asked if i wanted goat. i said, "sure, i eat goat!" and the film was on its way.

bob: now i hear that it's taken you quite a while to put this film together.

bec: we had some production difficulties. first we didn't have a camera. then we didn't have a goat. then we had kids. all the while we were still working on the scripts.

bob: when did you finally get the scripts done?

bec: to tell you the truth, bob, they're still not done.

bob: what do you mean?

bec: we're still working on them. and i'm in the middle of a poetry project as well as my short story collection.

bob: so you have a short story collection?

bec: yes, but it's currently being sent out for publication as individual pieces. apparently the publishers don't realize that my work is much better than the current drivel they've been putting out, but i'm okay with that. i've become immune to failure.

bob: why is that?

bec: what choice do i have? i can't decide who will publish what. i can only produce and hope for the best.

bob: but you expect rejection?

bec: i aim for rejection. that way there are no surprises and i know what to expect.

bob: that's a pretty unique way of approaching a career in writing. what will you do if your work is accepted?

bec: i will promptly refuse to sign any contracts and beg them to reconsider.

bob: interesting strategy, bec.

bec: thank you, bob.

bob: so what's your plan regarding the independent film festivals this summer?

bec: i'm trying to convince the bedouin shepherds here to loan me a goat for this film. so far there's been a language barrier, but they have given me some hashish and two chickens. i'm still trying to convince them that a goat would be in their best interest and they'd make a percentage from the film profits.

bob: well, okay. thank you, bec. it was a pleasure speaking with you, an up and coming writer and filmmaker.

bec: no bob. thank you.

A Happy Day Indeed

Happy day!!!! Errant Parent posted my essay, "The Six Secrets of Unstressed Families" on their site! Totally excited because this now puts me in the category of "professional writers."

The past few months have been crazy. I had some work and am looking for another position. I finally submitted Unorthodox! to a theater I've been checking out. Getting their application done was really rough. There were these moments of "who am I kidding?" coupled with "of course I can do this!" but both came at inopportune times, as is often the case with most things, I suppose. I recently wrote a pretty decent review of the film "Trembling Before G-d" for a grad class I just finished and I'd really like to rework the paper for possible publication. Since the film came out several years ago, I can't say that what I have to say hasn't yet been said, but it's worth a try. And I'm hoping that the rest of my submissions are picked up. I'm so glad I  didn't quit my day job to be a writer. Then again, I don't currently have a day job, so that makes things even more interesting. 

not being boring

Well, it's not real--yet. But hopefully it will be one day. Right now, Unorthodox! is being sent around for possible second readings and possible production. I've been out of touch for a while, doing job interviews, taking a bartending course, writing, dealing with sick kids (only my own) so it's been a bit hectic over here. However, I still haven't lost track of my writing goals.
I have an acceptance from Errant Parent, who will be publishing an article I wrote in March. I'm also gathering info for an article I want to write on the non-fiction side of things exposing some issues that certain people do not want exposed. That's all I'm saying for now on that.
I was wondering if there are actually people who live normal, stable lives without much excitement, drama and other issues. Sometimes I wonder if it would be better to be boring and not be so extreme. And then I wonder if I was boring, would I have anything to write about?

doing the can-can

Sylvia Plath is quoted as saying "And by the way, everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to improvise. The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt." I can't agree more. I keep thinking that the saddest question is "what if I can't?" but I don't think that that's an option anymore. Ms. DeMaria, my second grade teacher, used to tell us that "there's no such thing as can't" and I didn't really understand how that was even possible. In retrospect, I'm going with the idea that we can do anything as long as we believe that we can. And since I have no choice anymore, I'm taking all of the self-doubt and sticking it in a canvas bag filled with rocks and dropping it into the ocean. After all, I keep saying that I'm going to change the world. I should probably exhibit some confidence, or at least have some to exhibit.
Instead of doing my Nanowrimo novel this month like I'd planned, I've been ankle-deep in revising Unorthodox! and creating some new pieces. I currently have seven pieces in submission, not counting plays, and I'm looking for a place to host a staged reading of Unorthodox! or better, someone to take it on and produce it. That will take a bit of work on my end, but I'm willing. I'm also continuing to put together the stories for the short story collection I've been threatening for a year now, and I think that I'm very close to the point of searching for an agent.
As an aside, check out the pictures from our reading at The Creek and The Cave. You can find the link on the side bar of my blog. And friend Erica Sherman photographer on Facebook. She's the excellent photographer who gave her Saturday to do photos for this endeavor. I cannot thank her enough for a job beautifully done.
I also just realized how nice and proper I am on this blog. It's a great foil for the say anything approach I take to writing....