Steven M. Finkelstein

This month I started on a new novel, my third. It’s a feature length piece of erotica. I’ve had some success getting earlier pieces of erotica published, and I’m hoping that this project, when it’s completed, might be something I can actually generate some interest in without the help of an agent. I could have gotten started on another “serious” novel, but honestly, I just didn’t see the point right now. I’ve got plenty of ideas, sure, but the two I’ve written so far are languishing in unpublished limbo, I haven’t gotten any serious responses about them, and without an agent to help me sell them, I just don’t feel like committing myself to it right now. It’s a multiple month (or year) undertaking, and the results are uncertain. But sex sells…history has proven that, repeatedly, so I just figured I’d take a shot at this. I was never able to get anyone to take a look at the screenplay. The comic book seems to have fizzled, after working on it for nine months. Maybe this will be the project that gets my foot in the door.

I feel kind of silly to be working on an erotica project of any length. I’m not finding it a very challenging genre to work in, as the plot in an erotic novel is there mainly to serve as the framework to get from one sex scene to the next. It’s hard to avoid cliches, in a genre like this, but I also wonder how necessary it is to do so. How interested are the people who read this stuff in character development, theme, tone, etc? I put my spin on everything I write; I have to, every writer does, but in this particular case, I wonder if the themes that I usually fall back on as a writer will emerge in this piece, even in the rare moments of plot development that don’t have to do with coitus, in various forms, in various places, with various people. I don’t suppose it really matters. I’ll publish under a pen name, if it gets picked up. I just think it’s kind of sad that’s it’s come to this. I had aspirations of being a “real” writer; I still do. Hopefully if this works then I can get back to real literature at some point. In the past five years, I’ve been turned down, now, by magazines and lit agencies alike, literally hundreds upon hundreds of times. I could wallpaper a room with my rejections. I’m just so tired of it.

Of course, then there’s the familiar sensations of starting a larger project. The streaks of lethargy and intense activity. Whenever I’m working on a major project, I’ve come to recognize the sensations; they’re the same, regardless of whether it’s a novel, screenplay, comic series, or whatever else. I’ll want to work a little bit each day, ideally, trying not to stress myself out, while balancing recreational activities and whatever bullshit other work I’m also doing in whatever locale I happen to find myself, to pay the bills. It’s never fun, whatever it is, and nine times out of ten, it seems to be food service industry. What ends up happening is this. I’ll be worn out, physically, from the job I’ve had to take for money. When I get home, I’ll want to watch T.V. or read, or whatever other form of recreation. But then I’ll feel guilty that I’m not working on the project. It’s even worse on my off days, because then I’ll know that I should be taking advantage of the time to be writing, and because I only have that limited time, I feel pressed. I stubbornly won’t want to work, wanting instead to waste time, as it seems in my mind, doing anything else but write. But I need to recognize how much is laziness, and how much is recharging my batteries because I’m pushing myself too hard, and hopefully find a happy medium between the two. Sometimes I do, and sometimes I don’t. The thing is, I’m not in school anymore. There aren’t deadlines, other than the ones I impose myself. But let me tell you, I’m a slave driver in this area, because I’m my own biggest motivator…my only motivator…and I’m obsessed, believe me, that’s not too strong  a word at all, obsessed with succeeding as a writer. I’ll succeed, or kill myself trying. 

This is how it’s been, since I finished my undergrad, and this is undoubtedly how it’s going to continue being, until I get my break. I’m not happy that my latest project is more or less the official compromise of my creative integrity, but hey, people need to masturbate, so I don’t feel so bad about helping them. If this is what it takes to get me noticed, so be it…although, of course, in all probability, I’d be published under a pen name anyway. Ironic. Maybe if it works, it will lead to other things, though; that, of course, is the hope. So that’s what seems to be in my immediate future, anyway, writing wise, trying to think of euphemisms for sexual acts in the times that I can actually get my lazy ass in gear, which will be doubly difficult with the start of baseball season, but I can’t really use that as an excuse. I can always find something to distract me, if it’s what I want. There’s just one glimmer of light that I can see, at least for now. At the end of June I’ll be moving, to where, I’m not entirely sure yet. New York is on top of the list, as I’ve mentioned here on the site before. But regardless of where I’m going, I’m holding out hope that maybe, just maybe, I’ll be able to find slightly more tolerable work there than what I’m doing right now, to pay the bills while I’m hacking out this latest opus. Because my body isn’t too happy with me right now, in my current job, and what’s left of my integrity isn’t too happy at the moment either.

It’s spring, and that means the end of the two most wretched months of the year, February and March, when there’s no sports that I care enough about to follow. After the Superbowl, all there is going on is basketball, and I don’t follow it, either college or the pros. I don’t know what it is about b-ball, but I just never got into it. Wrestling is year round, so I’ve been counting on that to get me through, and it’s been filling the sports-less void in my life pretty well, especially with the buildup to Wrestlemania 25 in a couple of weeks. But say what you will about wrestling, as entertaining as it is, the outcomes of the matches are predetermined, that, of course, being the biggest difference between it and “real” sports. Of course, I know some conspiracy nuts that think the outcomes of legitimate sports are fixed too, but that’s another matter…

Anyway, football won’t be back till September, but that’s okay, because baseball is about to kick off again, and it’s my favorite sport. Always has been. Football is great, what with a week of buildup to each game, the physicality, and the trash talking both by fans and players, but baseball is indeed the great American past time, and to me, its reappearance is much more a harbinger of spring than robins coming back, or flowers blooming, or any of that other crap. This will make Sportcenter worth watching again, and it will give me a suitable distraction from the toil and drudgery of my daily life. Sports are there to distract you, and for me, they’ve always served the purpose. I need those distractions. Without them, I’d lose my mind.

Of course, I’m a die-hard Yankees fan, and this season is starting with a good deal of controversy for them, what with the Alex Rodriguez steroid situation. I’m not a big A-Rod fan. Even before I knew that he’d used steroids, he always struck me as a Prima Donna, playing more for his stats than for the team. Then there’s the fact that he can’t seem to hit in the post season, and let’s face it, that’s what makes a good player, not to mention a good Yankee. Just ask Reggie Jackson. A-Rod is starting the season on the disabled list, anyway, and isn’t supposed to rejoin the team until May, but even though they’ll miss his bat in the lineup, I think it  might be for the best. This way, the rest of the team can concentrate on the business at hand without constantly being bombarded with questions about steroids and what their opinion of the whole situation is. I hope the Yanks can pull it together enough to make the playoffs this year, and advance beyond the first round, which they’ve struggled with mightily over the past few years. The additions of Mark Texiera’s bat and C.C. Sabathia’s arm should help both their pitching woes and their offense, and as for A-Rod…I guess we’ll just have to wait and see what happens. If he comes back and starts hitting in clutch situations and taking care of business, and ignores the boos and the disparaging signs that will inevitably be there, maybe he can start to come back from what right now feels like a badly tarnished legacy. I just don’t want this guy to become a liability, what with the jaw dropping contract the Yanks gave him. It seems like even money that I’ll be back in New York in a few months, and if that turns out to be the case, I’ll certainly be trying to get to a few ballgames at the new Yankee Stadium this year. I went to only one game at the old stadium, an extra inning affair that saw the Yanks win out over the Bluejays, walk off style, after multiple rain delays. I’ll never forget it. But I’m looking forward to being a part of new history when the Yanks have their first home playoff game in the new Cathedral of Yankee baseball, or have a regular season rivalry game against the hated Red Sox. 

There’s a few things I live for, and sports are one of them. Until I find something to fill the two football and baseball-less months that I’ve been patiently waiting out, this will always be a time of year that’s tough for me to get through. But for now, the wait is almost over. Opening day is April 5th, and then my life will once again be full of joy, the kind that only beating out an infield single, making a spectacular outfield grab, a good old fashioned benches clearing brawl, or a no doubt about it, four-hundred-fifty foot dinger can provide. God bless America.

The past few months living in Myrtle Beach have presented a unique set of challenges, and also more of the same ones I’ve been struggling with for the past few years. The biggest issue here, as I’ve written about before on the blog, has been transportation. With everything spread out and a complete lack of public transportation, I’ve been reliant on my bike to get around. It hasn’t been all bad. It’s good exercise, if nothing else. I haven’t much cared for the people here. The South has more than lived up to all its stereotypes, and I’m looking forward eagerly to heading North again. Of course, the issue that has been the same here as it has been anywhere else I’ve lived in the past few years is the constant tightrope wire balancing act of trying to establish myself through my writing while supporting myself through other means until I’ve done so successfully. With the limited job options around here, in a resort community, that’s meant the same thing that it has several other places I’ve lived: food service. It’s everywhere, the jobs aren’t generally too difficult to come by, even in this economy, and you need virtually no experience to get hired, even though I actually have an abundance of it now.

But our lease here will end on the last day of June, which is only three and a half months from now, and I know that the time will pass quickly. Megan and I have our hearts set on New York. When I was forced to leave there midway through 2006, due to being broke and having been unable to find a job, I was discouraged, but also resolute that I would at some point fight my way back into the five Burroughs again. And now when that goal seems, potentially, fairly close to happening, that’s what it appears to be, more than ever: a literal battle against tough odds to stake a claim to my dream city. This time around, the problems are going to be logistical more than anything else. Megan and I, between the two of us, have furniture, clothes, our meager belongings, and the two cats. We have to get them, not to mention ourselves, from point A to point B. We have to find an apartment, in the right area, for the right price, a difficult prospect enough even without the added problem of not actually being in the city yet, thereby necessitating our finding a place to stay while we’re there hunting, and also having a limited amount of time to nail a place down. But all of that pales in the face of the biggest problem: finding jobs.

New York presents the biggest selection of potential career paths, but we’re not looking for careers, either of us, at least not in the short term. We’re looking for jobs, to pay the bills. My goal is still to support myself through the writing, and Megan through the crafting. New York presents plenty of options on both those fronts. But of the other jobs that are available, there’s a little bit of everything, so maybe we might be able to find something other than food service this time. Even with the current economy, the jobs have to be out there. We’ll be arriving in the summer, a time when places are often hiring. With New York’s many libraries, museums, and other cultural centers, something more palatable might very well be out there for us. But finding it will be difficult, again, because of the time constraints and logistical issues. It will be extremely difficult to land a job before actually moving to the city, since we won’t physically be there to interview yet, but if we sign a lease and come to the city without having concrete job options lined up, we’ll be in financial trouble immediately, since the two of us have virtually nothing in the way of savings. It’s kind of hard to save for the future when you’re working in food service. Going to one of the most expensive cities in the country without jobs is a big time gamble. Even though this time Megan will be there for support, the last thing I want is a repeat performance of what happened in ‘06, when I not only wasn’t able to find a job, but I left in a state of advanced depression, my nerves unraveled due to internal and external pressures.

If we can’t find jobs before a potential New York move, what are our other options? Megan and I both agree, no matter what happens, we have to leave here. Myrtle Beach has turned out to be a mistake, if not an outright disaster, and we must move on. That’s means another option besides New York then. Where that might be is under discussion right now, but nothing is certain. We’re dead set on New York, and it’s going to take a lot to keep us away. To get back to that city, I’m more than happy to tackle all the obstacles I just mentioned, and any others that come up. It’s my destiny to get back there. That’s where I need to be; it’s become more and more obvious to me. All the publishing houses, the literary agents, the contacts are there. All the other complications I can deal with, calmly, rationally, one at a time. The first step is to get there, just to get there.

It’s going to be a busy fourteen weeks. I’ll be out of town a few times, I’ll be working as much as I can, spending as little as I can, and writing as diligently as I can. I’ll keep posting here on the site to update everyone as to my progress. I can’t guarantee anything right now, other than my ironclad resolve to get back to NY. In the meantime, if anyone has any suggestions regarding job hunting or apartment hunting in New York, and Brooklyn specifically, don’t hesitate to respond here on the site. I appreciate the continued support, and help anyone can offer Megan and myself as we try to take this next crucial step. More soon.    

I’ve seen three really stellar superhero films in the past year or so.  Iron Man was a real summer popcorn blockbuster, with some sharp dialogue, impressive special effects, and a strong performance by Robert Downey Jr. that did a great deal to revitalize his career. The Dark Knight was a worthy follow up to Batman Begins, with some special attention paid to issues of morality and the paradox of vigilantism, made better than it should have been by a tour de force turn by the late Heath Ledger as the Joker, that made it the financial juggernaut that it should rightly have been. The third is Watchmen, a  film that has received some mixed reactions from critics, but is everything that the comic was…and the comic was brilliant.

Set in 1985, in an alternate America where Nixon has been repeatedly reelected, the superhero group known as the Watchmen has been disbanded. When one of their number, the Comedian, is murdered, it sets in motion a chain of events that brings the rest of the group back together, complete with all of their various psychoses. Under the constantly looming threat of nuclear war with the U.S.S.R, the mystery of who killed the Comedian must be played out, and a villain must be exposed…or so we are led to believe. But much like The Dark Knight, our idea of heroes and villains must be continuously reexamined and redefined as the film goes on. Watchmen is many things: a superhero epic, a mystery, a love story, and an examination of what mass paranoia can do to a society, a lesson that seems particularly relevant after the Bush presidency. Narrated, at times, by Rorschach, the sociopathic vigilante who will often times resort to the tactics the others won’t, there is a gritty feel to this film that does nothing to dull the attention to detail- the soundtrack, the vividness of the color, and, indeed, the brutality often on display, as this is an unconscionably violent movie- it’s all there, and it’s all working together for maximum effect. This is a film that is clearly meant to have a lasting impact on the viewer, just as the comic was meant to have on the reader, and I know that they both did on me. I’m going to be thinking about this movie for a long time to come.

On a personal note, it’s great to see a movie take full advantage of the R-rating. Having read the comics, I knew what they could have chosen to leave in, and what they could have glossed over, and thankfully, they didn’t gloss over a hell of a lot. What results is a movie that pulls no punches, in quite a literal sense. At several points, I could hear the little gasps and flinches of the audience when the really gruesome stuff was happening…and the appropriately heavy breathing for the sex scenes, which are, well, hot. This is the best of the term “adult situations”, stimulating both body and brain.

There’s virtually nothing negative that I have to say about this movie. It was just as long as it should have been and no longer than it needed to be. The ensemble cast all do their jobs admirably, particularly Billy Crudup, who, despite appearing as a blue, glowing, nude muscle-man for most of his screen time, delivers his lines with a calmness that embodies the God-like spirit of the character he portrays. I had to bike and walk a combined ten miles to see Watchmen, as I do for all the movies I see around here, but this was one case where I did so gladly. This is how you do a successful comic book to movie adaption, and all filmmakers who attempt to do so should take notice. Do not, repeat, do not miss this movie. My rating: 8/10

For those who were unaware, I have entered a piece of erotica in the Oysters and Chocolate 40 Days and 40 Nights Fiction Contest. There are cash prizes for the three top entries, which are selected from the ten that receive the highest ratings from readers. This is where you come in. Get on the O and C website and vote for my story, if you have not yet done so! The name of the story is “Yard Work,” and if you are not offended by graphic content of a sexual nature, check it out. The website is www.oystersandchocolate.com. Just look for my story under the 40 Days and 40 Nights Contest thread…and thank you, everyone, for helping me pay my bills. I couldn’t do it without you.

As I’ve gotten older, it’s become easier to be cynical, and I like to think I was pretty good at it even when I was young. When seeing a movie intended specifically for children, it’s not hard to be put off by the holes in the often formulaic plots, the same tired visual gaffs, and the moments of heavy-handed exposition. However, every once in a while a movie comes along that rekindles the sense of joy I felt when I saw a really well written, well executed, eye popping undertaking, and Coraline is just such a movie…in 3D, no less. Coraline is based on the novel of the same name by fantasy powerhouse Neil Gaiman, who has already left an indelible mark on several forms of media, including comic books, novels, films, and television. It seems like everything this guy touches turns to gold, and teaming with visionary director Henry Selick, probably best known for his genre-busting The Nightmare before Christmas, doesn’t hurt anything either.

Coraline, rendered in beautiful stop-motion animation, is the story of Coraline Jones, an only child, who, along with her somewhat dreary and unimaginative parents, moves from Michigan to the Pink Palace Apartments in Oregon, a mysterious, run-down, but fanciful building with some eccentric neighbors and a large garden, through which Coraline spends the early part of the movie wandering. While exploring the new apartment, she finds a child size boarded-up door in a wall, through which she travels, in her dreams, to find a second pair of parents and a second Pink Palace Apartments, this one full of magical delights, and, of course, as it turns out, a looming danger that becomes more apparent as the plot unfolds. As the threat becomes fully realized, she must untangle the web of the “other mother,” who controls the Bizarro universe and wants to trap her there.

Most of the usual Gaiman elements are in play: a headstrong female protagonist, wacky side characters, fantastic places that are just beyond the normal range of our human experience, and cats being wiser and more knowledgeable about our world and possible others than we ourselves are. It’s made somewhat more simplistic for child consumption, but all ages should enjoy the ride; Coraline is voiced by Dakota Fanning, and I liked her in this more than I have anything else I’ve seen her in, precisely because I wasn’t, in fact, seeing her, but only hearing her. If she was only the voice of animated characters from now on, I’d see a lot more of her movies. What impressed me the most about this movie, hands down, was the masterful realization of the story through the stop motion animation. Nightmare before Christmas was impressive, but this is really amazing stuff, especially with the 3D effects. All in all, this was just flat-out entertaining, an all around success. There were no major missteps, and even if the ending was a tad predictable, in a story like this, even if there are no major surprises, it’s getting there and enjoying the scenery that’s most of the fun. This is the best movie I’ve seen yet, early in the new year. My rating: 7/10