Steven M. Finkelstein

Well, for all of those that have been keeping up with my job woes, here is an update: after nearly two months of unemployment in my new city, I have officially found work, in the security industry, and I’m starting tomorrow, bright and early. Really, really early, actually. It’s not ideal…it’s only part time, to start out, and there hasn’t been any mention of benefits to speak of. But considering how difficult this job market has been to crack, I’m trying to focus on the positive for the moment. If I find at some point that my new enterprise is not working out, then I can continue searching. For now, though, I’m just thrilled with the prospect of money coming in again, regardless of how much it is. All I’m looking to do is pay for a few little luxuries, namely rent, bills, and food. It’s a lot to ask, I know, but I’ve always been greedy. It’s one of my major character flaws.

Of course, in all seriousness, this really couldn’t have come at a better time. The financial drain that it’s taken for me to cover everything in the past two months while having no income whatsoever has taken me down to practically nothing, and of course, it’s also stressed me out in ways it’s difficult to put into words. I can understand criminality as a result of poverty, I really can. It comes about from desperation and frustration, and I know there’s a lot of both out there in the world right now. I’ve seen it on the faces of all of my competitors, sitting in the waiting areas in our frayed, threadbare suits and ties, the only ones we own, I’m sure, in some cases. Hell, I had to learn how to tie a tie specifically for the rounds of interviews I’ve been to in the past few weeks. I’d always considered it a mark of pride that I had avoided learning to tie one for the first twenty-eight years of my life. I guess I couldn’t keep the record going forever.

I can look back to my posts of a few months ago, when I was anticipating the move from South Carolina, and how I spoke about the mental (and indeed, physical) toughness that it takes to live in a place like New York. I was prepared for it, having lived here before, but it’s one thing to talk about it, and it’s another to get here and to  have to deal with it face-to-face, day by day, week by week, as your money and your resolve are drained following interview after fruitless interview. It’s even worse when you have no entertainment budget, and it’s the summer, and you’re surrounded by things you want to do, music, sports events, cultural landmarks you’d like to visit, great places where you’d like to eat. Every night you’re stuck at home, eating the most meager meals, entertaining yourself as best you can without spending any money.

But now that I have work, even if it’s not full time, I feel that everything is going to be okay again. I’ve been dragged down, the past two months, and my stamina has been tested. That’s okay. I fought my way through it, and now everything is going to get better. I know it is. Now that I’ve found a job, I’m going to hold onto it like my life depends on it, because in a very real sense, right now, it does. With unemployment as high as it is, I know about the stiffness of the competition. I’ve been out there experiencing it for myself the past few weeks. But now that I’m here, now that my foot is in the door, and now that I’ll have paychecks coming in again, minuscule as they might be…things are looking up. I’m ready to keep fighting the good fight, and with the change in the season upcoming, I’m looking forward to something I’ve never experienced before: Autumn in New York, my city, for the first time. I feel very privileged to be able to take part in it, and it will be the first of many. But if you ask me if I’m surprised that I’ve made my way here to see it, the answer is a resounding no. I knew it was going to happen. I knew I was going to come back. And now, with things beginning to stabilize, the future is looking gradually brighter, and more attainable. Thanks go out again to my friends and family, for supporting me through these difficult times. I’ll make you all proud of me, I promise. Also, I’m writing again following the conclusion of the new novel, so hopefully I’ll have some new material to start submitting to various places before too long. There’s actually been some interest in the novel excerpts that I’ve sent out, also. Everything is still very much in the preliminary stages, but if I hear something more concrete about its finding placement somewhere, I will, of course, mention it here. That’s it for now. Working man, signing off.

Well, it seems like the critics and I are more or less on the same page, for once. District 9 has gotten overwhelmingly positive reviews, and rightfully so. This is a movie that has some rather heavy-handed political statements to make (the alien craft that comes to Earth, around which the focus of the movie is based, comes to rest above Johannesburg, South Africa, and the aliens are rounded into segregated slums, drawing an obvious apartheid comparison), but once we get beyond that, we’re treated to a well thought out, carefully crafted piece of storytelling that successfully melds the action, horror, and sci-fi genres. This film is “presented by Peter Jackson,” in the same way that Hostel was “presented by Quintin Tarentino,” a somewhat shameless attempt to try and generate attention to a film, just by attaching the name of an established director to it. I don’t much approve of the technique, particularly with a film as compelling as this one, where it’s not really needed. That being said, this movie actually calls to mind certain of Jackson’s pre-Lord-of-the-Rings films, such as Meet the Feebles, where the envelope is pushed in the gross-out factor, as in the scenes where the protagonist is in the midst of mutating from human to alien. There’s a lot of movies that District 9 gives a nod to- the first two Alien films, Robocop, the Blair Witch Project, and even Starship Troopers, to name a few, but what sets this apart is how heartfelt the emotion is when the protagonist begins to realize that he will soon be in the same plight as the aliens that he was trying so hard to round into concentration camps. Humankind’s most callous, unfeeling, and destructive tendencies are all on display here, (we are the monsters, not the aliens) and it’s hard not to get behind whatever forces are trying to save us from ourselves, particularly when another part of what is being fought against is the alienation (forgive the pun) and disorientation that comes about from being forced out of one’s home and away from the life and love that is sometimes taken for granted. There’s plenty of blood and guts here, and some impressive action sequences, especially considering the limited budget that was used, but what really sets this movie apart is how well the emotionality of not only the human protagonist, but also the aliens is conveyed. They give some of the better performances I’ve seen on the screen this summer, easily outshining human counterparts in Wolverine or G.I.Joe.

All in all, this was a pleasant surprise, managing to be both grandiose and understated, funny and touching by turns. I’ve often spoken about the importance of ending a movie on the right emotional note, and also at the right time, leaving the audience with the lasting impression of what it was the piece was trying to convey, and this can also go beyond the screen to the printed word, be it the short story, novel, or any other format. This was accomplished here, and the final scene, of Wikus, the human turned alien who is faced with an uncertain future, not knowing if he will eventually become human again, thereby reverting to what he feels he truly is, will stick with me for a while. This is in every way a surprise late summer hit that will be profitable for all involved, and put both director Neil Blomkamp and star Sharlto Copley on the map. My rating: 6/10

Going into this, I wasn’t expecting much. The very fact that a Wayans brother was involved spelled disaster for this project from the very beginning. But I like Stephen Sommers’ movies; I liked Van Helsing, even though the critics didn’t, and the Mummy movies were fun too. I’m also a fan of some of the other cast members, particularly Ray Park, who plays Snake Eyes, and Arnold Vosloo, who appears as Zartan. Vosloo is the little known star of the Darkman trilogy who has also appeared in other action flicks, like the classic ’94 John Woo film Hard Target, and also as the mummy in the Mummy series. The reviews were generally so bad that even though I’d been determined for the past two years to see this movie, they were almost enough to dissuade me. But I finally decided to grit my teeth and go, fully expecting the worst. I have to say, I was pleasantly surprised. It seems like the critics and myself will have to agree to disagree once again: they thought Harry Potter was spellbinding, and I thought it was a completely missable, thoroughly un-magical two hour place holder. Likewise, G.I.Joe was being dumped on by most of the more “reputable” reviewers. My question to them is this: just what exactly were they expecting? This was billed as a big-budget summer popcorn flick, and you know what it was? A big-budget summer popcorn flick. If they were looking for Citizen Kane, they came to the wrong theater. But considering the fact that this was a movie based on a line of militant children’s toys, I think Stephen Sommers did a perfectly acceptable job with the source material. The characters have very little depth; just a touch of background on each of the principles is all we get, and frankly, it’s all we need. I don’t really care about a character’s motivation for putting on an Accelerator Suit and going on a frantic fifteen minute race through downtown Paris, destroying everything in his path; the very fact that he’s doing it in the first place is enough. All we need to know is that these guys are tasked with saving the world, and that’s plenty to go on. There’s no ambiguity here in terms of good and evil. It’s perfectly self evident. And if you go into the experience having first turned off your brain and preparing yourself for fairly mindless bigger than life C.G.I. action, then you won’t be disappointed.

This movie reminded me a little bit of Speed Racer, actually, in that the movie was just a live action version of the television show, and I remember that Speed Racer received very similar criticism. The critics who went in with unrealistic expectations were going to hate it, and everyone who knew what the G.I.Joe toys and television show were like were going to be elated. But whatever the critics were going to say is fairly useless in a case like this anyway, because the target audience was going to go see it regardless of what was being said about it. Perhaps I should feel badly about pushing thirty and still being a part of that audience, and that I can still be entertained by something so flashy, noisy, and pointless, but you know what? I’m not. Sometimes all you want is to take a violent, explosion-filled two hour vacation from your life, and this did the job perfectly. Plus, there’s a cliffhanger ending, so you know there’s plans for a sequel! My rating: 5/10

So, here’s a quick update on my latest doings. I’m securely in New York, Brooklyn, to be precise, though maybe securely isn’t the right word, since I haven’t found a job yet. I’m hot on the trail though, so hopefully that particular problem will be remedied shortly. It’s hard, what with my being here without a job, not to compare this time around with my previous experience living in New York in ‘06, when I couldn’t find work and was operating with virtually no support network. This time Meg is with me, however, and the cats, and they provide a great deal of support and comfort. I have the family to back me up, and they encourage me.

I recently finished my third novel, this a feature length piece of erotica entitled Underbelly, and I’ve been sending excerpts or the full manuscript to any of the agencies or publishers that sound like they would be a good fit. I never found a publisher for the first two novels, I never found anyone who was interested in the screenplay, ditto the comic book. I still hold out hope for all of them, but maybe this particular novel will be the one that finally gets me noticed, or at least makes me some money, since I’d probably be publishing it under a pen name anyway. We’ll see. It’s always gratifying to finish a longer project, though, and while this one didn’t necessarily fulfill much of an outlet for me on the creative front, it’s still good to bring it through to its conclusion. The subject has been on my mind of whether or not I’ve compromised my integrity as a writer by stooping to writing something like this, but every time the notion occurs to me, I dismiss it. I’ve said from the very beginning that I would write anything anyone would pay me to write. That’s still the case, and since erotica seems to be the medium through which I’m making most of my money so far, that’s what I thought I should stick with. Now that the project is done, though, regardless of whether I manage to sell it or not, I think it’s time for me to go back to more “serious” fiction. I have several ideas, the only question is which one I’m going to implement next.

This coming Thursday I’ll be heading back to Cincinnati, where I’ll be over the weekend, visiting family, friends, and getting some much needed dental work done. This will be the first time I’ve been back to the city of my birth in eight months. Always good to get home and see everyone, and this time, I’ll go there with the knowledge that when I return after my trip, it will be to the city where I’ve expected and hoped I would end up for a good long time. New York can be a cruel city. Poverty drove me out before, and I’m feeling its pinch again this time too. But I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. Hopefully I can return from Cinci with a fresh perspective on my struggles, ready to leap back into the fray. Stay tuned as I shop the new novel around, and I will certainly be posting updates on that as they become available. Also, I’m hard at work on the new collection of my short stories and oddments, The Great Divide, which I’m still looking to release exclusively here on the website right around the end of the year. Keep reading, true believers.

I was having a conversation with someone the other day about a store that I’d been looking in, and some things I’d seen there that I might want to purchase, if I had the money to do so. This led to our talking about the best things on which to spend one’s money. The objects that I’d seen in the store were the sort of things that I might like to own because they appealed to me, but they didn’t really serve any practical application. In other words, they were the sorts of things that I would purchase, and then all they would do is sit in the apartment collecting dust. This led us to talk about art, and what, if anything, it is accomplishing for the purchaser or the collector once it’s in their possession. We were talking about a scenario in which a person who has the money to do so might see a piece of art that elicits a certain reaction or emotion from them. Whether positive or negative, they feel that they might want this emotion to be duplicated, so they buy the piece, and take it home to decorate their living quarters. So now they have this thing, and it sits there. What if they’re unable to get it to make them feel the way they did when they first saw it? Now it becomes one of those scenarios where instead of owning the piece, since it’s there in the house and the buyer might not have the motivation to get rid of it, even if it’s not performing the function they initially hoped it would, it’s more like it’s owning them. And instead of one piece, imagine if this person had many pieces, all of which they felt happy about at the time that they bought them, but they were now not so enthusiastic about. So I put it to you, if you are reading this; are you satisfied with the things that you surround yourself with? They need not be pieces of art, necessarily. Let’s just include whatever might be in your home that doesn’t serve any immediate purpose. We can exclude things like cooking implements, or bath towels, or laptop computers, because all of these are actually good for something. I’m thinking more about the Monet print on the wall, or the basket of seashells in the bathroom, or the decorative soaps that no one is ever supposed to use, not even company. Are they doing what they’re supposed to be doing? And what was it they were supposed to be doing in the first place?

Of course, in my particular case, this conversation began all in the abstract, since I don’t actually have the money to buy the things I was looking at that I might have the desire to own. The question was put to me that if I did have an unlimited supply of money, or at least a little more to spare, might I buy some more of these nonessential items? Here’s what it breaks down to, for me. It’s almost completely useless to buy art as an investment. Art is something that is significant to the artist as they are making it. The finished product is more of a byproduct, the empty cocoon from which the butterfly has already flown. It doesn’t mean as much to the artist as the creative energy that went into it does. In that sense, even if you own it, it does not follow that you possess it. That’s why I’m always extremely hesitant to buy art. Also, even if I had the money, and I wanted to buy artwork that society deemed valuable, I would be terrified that something was going to happen to it. I would spend all my time running back into the other room to make sure that one of my cats hadn’t clawed it to bits, or that someone hadn’t thrown grape juice on it. My concerns extend beyond what is normally considered “art,” too. I would include in this category of things that are unwise to buy, anything that doesn’t really serve an immediately identifiable purpose. What, then, would I spend my money on, if I had any to spare? Well, books, movies, comic books, magazines, or other forms of diversion, to name a few. Hell, even video games. At least you’re doing something with those. A book, or the other things I mentioned, are not useless. They have a very specific purpose. In the case of a book, you’re meant to read it (or watch it, in the case of a movie, or play it, with a video game, etc.), and they are supposed to entertain and distract you. These are things that you might say a piece of art is also meant to do, but at least a book forces you to use your imagination, which is somewhat of a lost art in modern times, and a movie actually comes to life right in front of you on screen. A painting or a piece of art just sits there. And don’t even talk to me about things like jewelery. The desire for those sorts of things are the kind of materialism that bothers me more than any other. If I owned something like that, I’d be worried the whole time that someone was going to break into the house and steal it, and I’d be even more worried to take it outside and show it off, for fear that if it was visible, I’d be even more in danger of that happening. It’s like walking around with a moderately priced car around your neck. Why take that risk? Because it’s shiny?  

But more than any of these things, if I had the money, what I’d spend it on is travel. There are so many places that I want to see in the world that I haven’t had the opportunity to yet. That would be the best way to spend my money, I think. To go to activities that I enjoy, sporting events, concerts, movies, cultural events, museums…all of this would be satisfactory. Except for one small detail. I must confess that on the rare occasions where I actually do have the money to do these things, when I get finished with them, I sometimes feel buyer’s remorse. The money is gone, and there isn’t anything tangible that I spent it on, nothing that I can hold in my hand. There is only the memory of it. And so it is that I seem to be materialistic too. I remember when I was younger I was fond of telling anyone who would listen that it’s not about who dies as a good person, having given to charities, having helped old ladies cross the street. Admittance to heaven is dependent on who has the most toys, I would say. So maybe the people who are spending their money on useless trinkets are onto something. Who knows?

One thing I’ll say is this. A couple of years ago, I started collecting ticket stubs from anywhere that I traveled, or any event that I went to. When I got back home I would take them and paste them in my photo album. I didn’t really think about why I might be doing this, until the conversation yesterday about the different things people spend their money on, and why they might be compelled to so do. I think the reason I started doing that is because I wanted to have the best of both worlds. I wanted to go out and “do things,” thereby not spending my money on physical possessions, but I still wanted some material evidence of what it was I had done! It’s typical of me, I think, to want to have my cake and eat it too. The fact remains, I don’t really have the money right now for any of this to be a problem. If I had more money, then maybe I would be faced with the issue of what I should be doing with it, saving it, or spending it on things that would make me feel it was being put to the best use, maximized for me to get the most possible enjoyment out of it. I would hope that if that time ever comes, I have the wisdom to find some sort of happy medium, using it both on things that make me happy, and that have some sort of actual use. Because if I ever get rich, and you come over to visit, reader, and find me with a bunch of display cases full of matchbox cars or antique dollhouses or the hundred-and-one other expensive pieces of crap that people collect that don’t and will never have any practical application, then you have my permission to shoot me and put me out of my misery. It would be the only humane thing to do.