This. Week. Will. SUCK. Go with the Pats and then cross your fingers that you don’t end up 1-15, because every other one of these games can go either way.

Another November gone (almost,) another NaNoWriMo novel…completed!

(Not even close.)

Okay, but I got the furthest I ever have: just shy of 24,000 words. (Out of 50k, of course, so not even halfway, Peter.)

Shut up.

So I entered this month with one simple rule: not to care if my story sucked. This helped, because I didn’t have the winner of a plot that I did last year. Unfortunately, like last year, my “complete” outline for the novel lacked much substance in the middle, and when I arrived to this area I surveyed the massive amounts of suck and said “I’m not wading into that. Not with these shoes.” Aaaaaand…we’re done!

In 2006 the problem was just bad planning. The beginning of the novel was okay, but not really worthy of the cool idea I had. The middle portion, as planned out as it was, looked to just be…boring. So I abandoned it. This year the novel flew by at first, with the opening chapters more impressive than last year - more action, less exposition - even though the core of the novel was weaker. In fact, it flew by so quickly that a couple weeks in I ran into the middle of the book and realized that I’d planned very little for it, meaning I now had to fill for about 20,000 words. Not fun.

Some Wrimo novelists taking filling to heart, transcribing random dreams that book editors would slash completely or even having their characters sing long songs for no reasons (like “99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall) and putting every word into print. It’s a damned good way of reaching your goal, and it’s not technically considered cheating. I can just never bring myself to do it. As much as I told myself going in this year that I would write even if my novel sucked - and would worry about quantity over quality (since that’s what post-editing is for) - putting in filler is just too wrong for me.

So even if I could write 8000+ words a day for three straight days - two of which I will spend subbing - I don’t know that I would have the motivation. The story is cute and has its moments, and if I’m randomly inspired maybe I’ll revisit it someday. (You can visit it today after downloading it at the bottom of this post.) But there just isn’t enough there for me to care at the moment.

I’m set for next year though - well, save the existence of a plot, though while typing this the beginnings of one seeped into the corners of my brain. Yay. Anyway, next year I’ll plan like I did in ‘06, only I’ll overplan: I’m going to make sure not only will my beginning rock your socks as well as several of your long-sleeved T’s, but my middle will be substantive and fun instead of a minefield waiting to derail me.

I would say that it would also help if I motivate myself to write more early on, but I’m not sure how true that is. There were two or three days early on that I didn’t write, but if I did I would have just come to the middle sooner, and no matter how much time was allotted me I’m not sure if I would have wanted to tackle it. I’ll say this: I didn’t get bored with my novel like I did several times a few years ago. I was, instead, frustrated with my lack of ability to get it done, and that motivates me for next year. 2008 is when I’ll finally get that 50,000th word, plus a few more. I’ve got a whole year to come up with my plot.

You can email me my plot at pstork@gmail.com.

2007 Novel, Uncompleted (.doc file)

There are two films inside of Bella, one of which wants to tell a cute, joyful story about a Hispanic family in New York City. The other wants to preach to us about the evils of abortion, and in the limited amount of time that latter consumes it still manages to fatally injure the appeal of the first.

Jose is the head chef at his brother Manny’s restaurant, and when one day Nina, a waitress, shows up late for the third time in a week and is unceremoniously fired. Abandoning his kitchen duties to follow her, he finds out that she was late because she was late; stopping to purchase a home pregnancy test before her shift, she felt it was more important to tend to her needs than her boss’s and the result is her termination. Jose sympathizes, especially when he finds out she has no plans to keep the child, and as she frets over her sudden loss of income and growth of stomach he quickly finds her a new job at another restaurant and decides to treat her to a whirlwind day around the city.

Three levels exist to the film. The first is simple and quite entertaining, as Jose and Nina, co-workers for quite some time, really get to know each other for the first time. Tooling around the city, thy eventually end up at the house of Jose’s parents and time spent with his colorful mama and papa. The dinner that follows is one of those fun, loving gatherings with a lot of good food (the scents float off the screen) and a little bit of excellent dancing, with Jose’s family, especially his father, comprised of your typical close-knit ethnic folk that seem to exist only in fiction yet simultaneously, somehow, feel as real as our closest friends; think My Big Fat Greek Wedding, only more realistic and interesting. These are well-written, exquisitely played characters that are a joy to spend time with, and in as little time as we’re gifted to spend with them they establish themselves as easily the best part of this film.

Unfortunately, the second part of the movie, an exploration of how Jose went from pro soccer player to restaurant chef, starts to weigh down the film, and while it isn’t uninteresting it still seems cloying and thrown in for unnecessary dramatic weight. It could be seen as a story of redemption, but that just undercuts the motives behind the third portion of the movie. Worse still is that third portion, where Jose takes on a not-so-silent mission to convince Nina to keep her child. His motives may be noble, even correct, but the film’s portrayal of it simplistic and uninteresting, almost as if we can’t possibly disagree with the conclusion and need no convincing that such a simple chain of events could lead in this direction.

It’s not an accident that the waitress, a Caucasian speaking little, broken Spanish is named “Nina.” The few scenes where Jose appeals to her to keep her child play like a poorly written afterschool special or Lifetime made-for-TV movie, with stark dialogue that Tammy Blanchard, who otherwise acquits herself quite well in the roll, spits out as if she wants to get the monologue over with so they can get back to the better film. Here she stops being this interesting character we’ve been able to observe and becomes Just Another Woman, a mouthpiece spouting the usual concerns of the pro-choice lobby. You almost begin to wonder if Planned Parenthood lobbied the WGA for a writing credit.

I spoil little by revealing that she keeps her girl; this is what the picture intends from reel one, and as the day passes it becomes more and more obvious to us. Having such an expected conclusion, though, is not as insulting as how the film gets there, painting a rather cliched picture of the differences between a pro-life and pro-choice thought process. You can see the wheels turning in Nina’s head as she sits down to the family dinner at Jose’s, an otherwise joyous and fun scene that’s unfortunately present for the primary purpose to hammer home the idea that perhaps if she had grown up in such a welcoming home she would have no thoughts of terminating her pregnancy. Her subsequent stories on the beach reinforce this, highlighting the differences between her childhood and that of Jose as she marvels at the difference between experiences that night and her single-parent teenage years. The coupling of the poorly written Roll of Abortion Excuses spouted by Nina, which continue here, and the polar opposites of their respective upbringings serve to firmly establish her as nothing more than a pro-choice straw man, and impeach any other value the picture may serve to offer.

That all said, Bella’s worst crime is to betray all of its wonderful elements and subsequently lose your interest. Like Ratatouille earlier this year, the picture sucks you in with the smells floating out of its celluloid kitchen. It further snares you with the grand performances of the two leads and the intriguing mystery of Jose, and even more with his playful family that we end up wanting to spend much more time with. All this is aided by excellent work from director (who also co-scripted) Alejandro Gomez Monteverde who uses the city well as a backdrop, painting Jose into familial neighborhoods and Nina into a stark, empty apartment that speaks to her state of mind. All of this sets up a grand slice of entertainment that slowly devolves, and by the end your mind wanders and you begin to feel betrayed. A subtle pro-life film would be fine; being of that mindset, I personally would be up for such an effort. Bella isn’t concerned, though, with sneaking its message through as much as hammering you over the head with it. In a poorly made film this would be disappointing. In such a well made one, it’s unforgivable.

**½ (out of four)

For the last four years, this evening has been a night without sleep for me, a dreadful prelude to the most hectic, mind-numbing day of the year for anyone who works in retail: the day after Thanksgiving.

You can’t fully appreciate the insanity of American retail until you’ve huddled in the trenches at a Best Buy or Circuit City on the first “official” day of the holiday shopping season. Everyone knows that the crazies start lining up as early as seven the night before, huddling in the cold and fashioning a crude shantytown of tents and bonfires in order to be the first to score a cheap DVD player. These people are often ridiculed, their greed placed on display as a perfect example of American consumerism. I can see the allure, though, for those who enjoy the wait and the temporary friendships that can result, as well as their makeshift modern American version of “roughing it” in the bitter cold. In fact there was always, for me the employee, a certain adrenaline rush as the opening hour approached as the flood of employees and waiting customers coupled with the early hour created an almost anticipation of the madness that only come once a year. It’s a unique experience, and no matter how unorganized and randomly horrid the morning can be, how can you not, to at least a small extent, not want to get a taste of this?

Then the clock turns five, and the people start running at you…and all anticipation starts retreating, replaced by the desire for all of this insanity to be over.

Not everyone is rude. Not everyone disregards the fact that most employees got little-to-no sleep the night before and came into work between three and four in the morning with no break offered until close to noon, and no promise of leaving for home until more than twelve hours have passed since their shift began. But those that do, while perhaps the minority, are the ones you remember for years and years. They take it upon themselves to be whiny, selfish bitches just because they didn’t get their free camera that the ad clearly listed as “limited time, limited supply,” or they feel it necessary to shout at a manager because “there aren’t enough cash registers open” even though every single till in the building is currently being used. As the day unfolds and all of the no-margin doorbusters quickly disappear, there’s nothing wrong with asking if a product is still available. You never know. But complaining, screaming and yelling when you’re told all of them are gone is a different story.

The weariness is the worst, especially because Friday isn’t the end of it. Saturday comes, and the store opens again at 8 AM and you’re barely recovered from the Shift From Hell the day before. Worse still is the absence of any leeway granted to the staff on The Day After, where customers are crabby and bitching right and left and a little bit of slack is given to employees who don’t feel like treating each and every Sue and Sammy Shopper as if their every need is our command. On Saturday, though, things slow down again and the level of respect shown towards customers is expected to rise. Unfortunately, the opposite in the relationship is not necessarily true, and with Sunday still to come the early hours on Saturday can be just as horrid - if not moreso - than the day before, where there is a quickness and an art to the madness. Saturday is just a dull, slow roar.

No longer in retail, I can sit back and relax this weekend, but a certain part of me is tempted to join the fray early in the morning, even if it’s on a more reserved scale at the local Rural King. There’s something quite American about the whole ordeal, as if someone who hasn’t experienced it all - at least on one side of the battle - isn’t a “real” consumer. I’ve done both, though, and if I venture into a store tomorrow it’ll probably be past noon before I do.

It’s not like anything on sale tomorrow is any good anyway.

Who went 14-2 last week? FOURTEEN and TWO! Yeah, that was me. It’s nothin’.

After writing about my cute “offer” from Circuit City yesterday, I let Consumerist know about it and they ran this today. Nice to see the comments - at least so far - echo the truth.

• Subbing the other day in a 7th grade social science class, we were discussing the US Constitution and the various powers distributed amongst the Federal and State governments and divided between the three branches in Washington. When I would refer to the President by pronoun I would say “he or she,” prompting a question by one student:

Boy: Has there ever been a woman running for President?Girl 1: Duh, there is one right now!

Boy: Oh, yeah, Governor Blagojevich. I heard she was running.

*laughter*

Girl 2: That’s a man! He’s the governor of our state!

Boy: Really? Our governor is a man?

Me: …allegedly.

For those that forgot, or did not know, I left Circuit City at the end of March because the company decided that 3400 of its workers were making too much money and needed to be gotten rid of. Everyone over the salary cap for their position, most of whom got there because they were very good at what they do, were let go, overnight crippling the level of customer service at the nation’s third-largest electronics chain. Since then, the store has struggled, with morale in the toilet (due to not only the dismissals but many other reasons as well) and shrink (theft) up drastically because of the lesser amount of employees on the floor (and many of the ones there do not know how to be aware of such tomfoolery.)

Circuit planned to allow employees to be rehired after several months at a lower, starting rate (about $3 less/hour than I made) but since I planned two quit in two months anyway the whole thing was a windfall for me: get extra weeks to plan for the wedding and spend time with Emily, start substitute teaching early and get extra experience, collect a little unemployment in between, and get a three-week severance package as well as collecting all my unused time off. In all, I made as much as I would have working there for two months without, well, actually having to work there for two months.

Apparently their plan to gather much of this talent back hasn’t been going too well, because today I got this letter in the mail:

Dear Peter,This letter is a special invitation to rejoin the Circuit City team. We’re a new Circuit City with a lot to offer our customers…and you. If you’re interested - and I hope you are - we have a position waiting for you at any Circuit City superstore.

Over the past eight months, we have improved our customer service model, created new positions, and defined career paths for every store role. This means that at each stage of your career, you’ll know the steps that can get you to the next level. The new Circuit City delivers a superior experience for customers and associates, and that’s why we’re reaching out to former associates like you. You have the skills, talent, and experience required for this level of service, and we want you back.

Be a part of the new Circuit City, and join us just in time for the holidays - the most exciting time of the year. Because of your skills and experience, we’re excited to offer you a position comparable to your previous role at the most competitive rate possible. Simply present this letter to any manager at any Circuit City superstore. We will quickly complete the process and establish you as a regular - that is, not seasonal - associate.

Thank you and we hope to see you soon.

Sincerely,
[signature]
Andy Grosse - RVP

Ha! Good luck with that.

Who picked mostly home teams last week and went 5-9? Oh, that would be me. I hate you, NFL.

Who picked nine road teams last week and went 11-3? Oh, that would be me.

How can I be expected to write a blog post when I’m busy writing a 50,000 word novel by the end of the month? I only have so many words people.

That said, the novel goes well - just over 13,500 words heading into today. More important is that the story A.) is flowing well enough that I should be able to keep writing, and 2.) it doesn’t suck as much as I thought. It’s nothing spectacular, but great writing isn’t what’s expected out of NaNoWriMo. The goal is to get your words on paper (um…hard drive) and go back and edit later. It’s much easier to go back after the fact and nitpick than to do it as you go along and then get frustrated and quit.

In case you care, there might be an excerpt next week. You’ll also eventually get the last of my Traveling Trophy updates for 2007 as the Cardinals’ world title eventually ended up in the hands of the Boston Red Sox. Add that to the fact that I’m in a classroom and it must be 2004 again. Massholes.

• Speaking of, aiding the writing effort this month has been my hit-and-miss subbing. Effingham hasn’t the greatest demand for substitute teachers right now, giving me the opportunity to not only write but hold down the homestead, cooking, cleaning and staying up until 12:30 AM watching the Monday Night Wars on WWE OnDemand. Take my word, Nitro sucked in 1997 just as bad as it did at the end.

But, Peter, you never talk about your work life!

That’s right, and I’m not about to start. Blogging about work, especially when it involves a large number of children, isn’t an avenue I wish to travel down. Besides, there really isn’t that much to talk about - trust me.

I’ll give you one quick, harmless anecdote: today I was at the junior high, where I sub the most, for the first time in two weeks. Shuttling back and forth through 6th, 7th and 8th grade hasn’t given me the best chance to learn students’ names, or for them to know me. Nevertheless, I’m standing down in the cafeteria for breakfast duty at 7:30 this morning and not a minute after kids start streaming in from outside I hear an unrecognizable voice behind me shout

Stork! Who ya subbin’ for today?

I only vaguely recognized the kid, but he knew me. Cool.