I know you’ve always wanted to know what Bette Midler and Judith Light are like in person. Well, here’s your chance. Liz Wisan talked with Ray and me about that and so much more on our podcast this week.
Let Me Clear Something Up or The Fascinating Phenomenon Whereby Nearly Everyone Gets the Title of My Book Wrong
Let Me Clear Something Up or The Fascinating Phenomenon Whereby Nearly Everyone Gets the Title of My Book Wrong
Unlike the past two weeks on here, today is not technically a day of national importance, but it sorta is, as it’s my older bro Dustin’s birthday. Huzzah! He is a fantastic person and a wonderful brother and the voice of this guy in the Fables videogames and if you live in LA and pass him on the street this afternoon or evening, you should say especially nice things to him.
Today on the blog I’d like to clear something up/marvel at the mysteries of the human brain. So, I wrote a book, right? But, in the time since I sold it (one year and five days ago!), I’ve learned that about 70% of the people who read the title get it wrong. Even some people who have already read the whole book seem to get the title wrong, which is astonishing to me. The first couple of times this happened were frustrating (“Um, learn to READ, people.”), but as it’s continued to happen, I’ve started to find it fascinating and delightful; I seem to have written a title that has some kind of magical optical illusion effect on the people who read it.
The book, about a 17-year-old named Denton Little, is entitled Denton Little’s Deathdate. Seems simple enough, right?
But here’s how about 70% of people read that title:
Denton’s Little Deathdate.
Ten points if you can spot the difference.
Apparently, the word little is so ingrained in our vocabulary as an adjective that the brain rebels when reading my title, somehow flipping the apostrophe over a word earlier.It’s like one of those forwards people used to send around way too much, where the letters in words are all mixed up, but your mind is able to autocorrect and read the sentence anyway.
“We might have to come up with a new last name,” my lovely editor Nancy Siscoe said a couple months after we started working together. I knew she had a valid point. Even the initial contract Knopf sent me had the wrong title.
So I reluctantly opened myself up to the possibility that Denton Little, this protagonist I’d grown to love so much over the past few years—who’d actually had that name for a couple years longer, even, as the idea had been bouncing around my head since at least 2009—would be called something else.
“He’ll always be Denton Little to you no matter what we decide,” Nancy said, “but your readers won’t know the difference.”
I knew this was true, of course, but I also knew that changing the name wouldn’t be worth it if I had to feel a deep sense of longing and melancholy every time I said or heard the new title of my book (which would be a lot of times).
Nevertheless, I was game to brainstorm some other options.
Denton Silver’s Deathdate.
Denton Fox’s Deathdate.
Denton Bixby’s Deathdate.
It was a bizarre experience. Denton Little is a made-up character–he does not exist–and yet it felt wrong, like I was attempting to rename a close friend I’d known for years.
And when I did stumble upon a name I kinda liked, it usually had some powerful association with something else. Denton Foster’s Deathdate, I thought. That could work! Then, not two seconds later, I thought, FOSTER’S: AUSTRALIAN FOR BEER. (Maybe that ad campaign is old enough that it wouldn’t even occur to people, but it occurs to me!) DISQUALIFIED.
“Denton Lovett’s Deathdate?” Nancy suggested.
“Yeah, I like the rhythm of that,” I said. “But Denton’s dad is named Lyle, so then…” Not to mention the strange associations waiting to be made with Sweeney Todd.
There’s something about the rhythm of the words Denton Little’s Deathdate that I love so much and couldn’t quite recreate with another name. The Li part seemed essential, which led me to Denton Linder’s Deathdate and Denton Lillard’s Deathdate, both of which I could almost-but-not-quite get onboard.
I didn’t end up changing the title (obviously). I started to realize that no other last names were going to cut it, because maybe the same thing that was making people misread my title–that Denton’s last name is an adjective–was also what made me love his name so much. Little gives Denton instant underdog status. Which seems fitting, as he’s going to die tomorrow.
And if keeping Little in the title made me an underdog, too, facing off against thousands of auto-correcting brains, then so be it! I’ve made peace with that. I’ve even started to think of Denton’s Little Deathdate as sort of an alternate title. It doesn’t really make sense and sounds kind of patronizing toward Denton, but maybe it almost works? As Denton himself mentions in one scene, a “little death” in French (petite mort) is an orgasm. So, not sure what to do with that, but I guess that makes for a more titillating title or something.
Either way, this has all been a good reminder that sometimes, in spite of one’s intentions, art gets consumed in ways that are entirely beyond the artist’s control. It’s simultaneously thrilling and awful and, if this has happened with my three-word title, I can’t imagine what it’s gonna be like when people read the whole book.
But hopefully, after reading this, you will now know that book’s actual title. Maybe once it’s out in April, if you hear your friends calling it the wrong title, you can impress them by being all, “You know, it’s not actually called that.” You can hold up the cover like some cool party trick, pointing at the word Little’s, and they will be so in awe of how all knowing you are.
Or, maybe you’ll ignore everything I’ve just written and keep referring to my title the way your brain wants you to. That’s fine, too.
The Road to Awesome is Paved with Shit
Hey! Happy Veterans’ Day! (Apparently I only post blog entries on days of national importance.) I hope you’ve found a veteran and taken him/her out for ice cream. Also, consider donating some money here.
Last week–while the Republicans were taking control of the Senate thereby guaranteeing it near-impossible for progress to be made in the next couple years, which is unfortunate, seeing as the climate change we’ve wrought is causing the world to unravel–I wrote about Meredith Vieira and dental conventions in 2004. This week I’m switching it up and writing about my creative process; specifically, about being a perfectionist, which is one of the biggest daily obstacles in my work.
Being a perfectionist sounds like a good thing, right? Like, that’s the answer you’re supposed to give at a job interview when they ask you to name one of your weaknesses. (Certainly better, anyway, than “I can’t help but sexually harass the people I work with.”) But trust me when I say that, when it comes to creating art, the need to make things perfect is a straight-up hindrance.
This term perfectionism needs some clarification, though; it’s sort of a misnomer. Because, when I’m sitting down to work on something, it’s not that I’m thinking to myself, “This needs to be perfect.” I’m aware, after all, that there’s something beautiful about imperfect art. No, for me, it’s that I want to sit down and output something that is immediately awesome.
This desire for immediate awesomeness trips me up again and again. So, for our purposes, let’s call this state of being awesomeism. It’s a tricky term, maybe, because it sounds like something helpful. But fuck it, that’s just my inner awesomeist trying to poke holes in this blog post, and he needs to shut his mouth.
He’s actually been talking the whole time I’ve been trying to write this entry. This, what you’re reading now, is my third attempt in three days at trying to write it. Two days in a row I’ve tinkered a bit, ultimately coming to the realization that, “This is too hard, I should save this entry for some later week. I don’t even know exactly what I’m going to say, and who the hell am I to write about my thoughts on being a perfectionist? The brilliant Anne Lamott has already covered this topic exceptionally well in the “Perfectionism” chapter of Bird by Bird, her indispensable book of writing advice.” (If you’re a writer/artist of any kind, you need to read this at your earliest convenience. Lamott is smart, funny, self-deprecating as hell, and so inspiring.)
But I can’t listen to that voice, especially not when I’m in the first draft stage.
Because if I do, I won’t make anything.
I can name right now at least ten projects I’ve worked on over the past years, some with others, some alone, that are now decaying in the creative graveyard because there was some element of awesomeism that got in the way.
Now’s as good a time as any to recognize that two huge intertwined components of awesomeism are Ego and Fear. These two guys team up and produce the little voice in my brain that says, “I should only work on this right now if I already know it’s going to be awesome. Otherwise, I’m just wasting time on something stupid that people will think is stupid, thereby making them think I am stupid.”
But two things: 1. Some people actually will think you and your work are stupid regardless of what you do. That’s their business, not yours. 2. You cannot know what the hell it is you’re making until you have a first draft.
This second thing bears repeating, mainly so I can ram it into my own dense skull: You cannot know what the hell you’re making until you have a first draft.
The frightened awesomeist in me wants to believe that a creative idea is only worth pursuing if you know in advance that it’s guaranteed to be awesome, and that is incredibly foolish.
Writing a book, or a musical, or a screenplay is not, it turns out, the way I imagined it to be as a kid: that you pretty much know in your head the way the whole story is going to go and then you write it down.
This is a ridiculous thought, but I think some part of me still wants to believe that it’s true. Because it’d be so much easier that way! I could skip the part where I’m floundering, staring at a blank screen, feeling like a failure, taking a break to search for validation on the internet, not finding any, feeling horrible and guilty and useless for being on the internet instead of working, writing some more words that feel stupid and meaningless and unconnected to the story I think I’m writing, generally feeling a TOTAL LACK OF CONTROL.
Awesomeists want to be in control. The opposite–not being in control–is powerfully uncomfortable. And it doesn’t matter what stage of your career you’re at. When I was writing Denton Little’s Deathdate completely on spec, this feeling manifested as, “Why the fuck am I spending my time writing something no one’s even asked me to write? This isn’t even good!” And once I sold Denton, along with another book, this feeling turned into: “People are paying me to write these books, and I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing! This isn’t even good!”
But I’m learning that the TOTAL LACK OF CONTROL is necessary. If you commit to floundering every day, to–as Anne Lamott says–writing “a shitty first draft,” you will make bizarre and exciting discoveries. It may take days of working, maybe even weeks, but you will dig up gems from within the piles of shit. The story you’re writing will surprise you, and it will be a thousand times more rewarding than knowing the route in advance.
So let us not be awesomeists in the early stages of a new piece of art. As we take the leap of faith that this work inevitably requires, let us be shittyists. It’ll be scary and powerfully uncomfortable and maybe even smelly sometimes, but we can lean into the fear and know that just by doing the work, we earn the right to call ourselves artists. The road to Awesome is paved with Shit. Let’s all pave together, one shit-stone at a time.
November 7th, 2004. When I Moved to NYC.
Hi! Happiest Election Day to you, my friends. I hope you’ve gotten out to vote or, if you haven’t, that you’ve already planned when in the day you will. If things are as dire as the 80,000 emails I’ve been receiving say it is, then you probably won’t have to wait that long in line. I didn’t.
As I proclaimed last Wednesday, today is the beginning of my Terrific Tuesdays blog series. (That will be the last time I am calling it that. Just wanted to see how it felt. It felt terrible.) Leading up to the April publication of my YA novel Denton Little’s Deathdate, I’ll be writing about my creative process, my transition from an acting career to a writing career, things I love, people I love, and why I will never, ever have a cat.
I thought maybe I’d start with the origin story of my book and how it was I came to start writing it, but I always think it’s cool on TV shows when they save the origin story episode for later on (see: West Wing - Season 2, Episode 1), so instead, I want to go back even further, to November 7th, 2004, the day I moved to New York City.
I need to briefly interrupt to say that, until thirty seconds ago, I thought the date I moved here was November 1st, 2004. I even tweeted on Saturday that it had been ten years since I arrived. But just now I Googled the date, and it turns out I was WRONG. Because I know I moved here on the day of the NYC Marathon, and in 2004, that was November 7th. So, Serial is totally right - memory is completely suspect. And you, my friends, are being blogged to by an unreliable narrator.
Anyway, I moved here almost ten years ago, i.e. an amount of time equivalent to going to college two and a half times. Or, put another way: A baby that was born as my dad and I were in Brooklyn parking the small U-Haul truck packed tight with my belongings is now ten years old.
Hot damn.
I’d graduated from college in May of that year, spent the summer as an apprentice at the Williamstown Theater Festival, then lived with my parents in New Jersey for a couple months before making the move to a neighborhood in Brooklyn newly referred to by opportunistic real estate people as South Park Slope.
My college friend Greg and I moved into a sweet, little apartment (if you stood at a certain spot in front of our building, you could see the Statue of Liberty!), bought our $70 monthly unlimited Metrocards, and began our new lives. I was ready to get my acting career started, and Greg was pursuing a job in theater or art history.
I need to interrupt once more. Suddenly remembering that I kept a blog ten years ago, I did another quick Google search and was able to find it immediately. Oh sweet God. Why did I think keeping a public journal during my early twenties was a good idea? The blog is now set to private, so you will not be able to read it. I’m sorry. But I will be choosing some good excerpts for future entries. Here is a small sampling now, written at 3:19 in the morning on December 18th, 2004: So, people, get this:
Greg and I just had our first annual holiday party, and I’m sorta drunk and feeling that post-party thing where you’re like, “Where the ladies at?” And then you’re like, “Oh right - they all LEFT.”
So, uh, yeah. That’s been on the internet for the past ten years. Super. That holiday party Greg and I threw was a bright spot in what had been a very slow November and December. One of the other bright spots was the Meredith Vieira-hosted Who Wants to be a Millionaire?, every weekday at 12:30 pm. For at least the first month of our lives in New York City, that was the only consistent daily plan Greg and I had. We didn’t have cable, but this was back in the day when you could use a hanger as an antenna, so we were all set. I feel like I’m 800 years old.
We watched WWTBAM? so much that I started thinking we needed to be on it. At the very least, I thought we’d each be able to make it to the $32,000 milestone, which would be, like, a lot of money. But it wasn’t the right time of year for auditioning to be a contestant, so instead I went online and applied for tickets for us to sit in the live studio audience. No one got back to me.
That November, I also made my New York City acting debut in a play called Sotoba Komachi at a hideous place called the Producers’ Club. Young actors, save yourselves some trouble and do not act in things at the Producers’ Club. And, really, everyone should be advised to never see things at the Producers’ Club (unless you’re being supportive of a young actor friend). I still remember waiting outside the door to our theater space 45 minutes before our show started because we couldn’t get in there until the real-life Kramer (who had supposedly inspired the Seinfeld character) finished the intro to his bus tour.
Later that month, Greg and I worked at the GlaxoSmithKline booth at a dental convention. At the end of the week, every booth was getting rid of their leftover giveaways, and I walked off with a bag filled with so many toothbrushes, so much floss, so much toothpaste; it was the opposite of Halloween, though no less joyful. “New York City, baby!” I thought. “Free stuff everywhere!" And no lie, that stash did last me until a couple of years ago.
But as all this was going on, really, all I wanted for my life and career was to be on The O.C. Or some other awesome teen drama. I wanted to be Seth Cohen. I have a history of unhealthily loving teen dramas–Dawson’s Creek, Felicity, and then The O.C.—and finally, I was out of college and ready to be on one.
Spoiler alert: I never was. Though soon after, in January of 2005, I co-created a weekly improvised teen drama called The NYC (get it??) with my buddy Pete Capella, and it was: A. very awesome and B. how I met my wife, Katie.
But more about that later. For now, let’s just linger in the smoke of late 2004 nostalgia, when life was new and MySpace was king. Thank you for reading this first Tuesday blog entry and for indulging me and this snapshot of my life way back when. I promise all of these won’t be me reflecting on watching game-shows ten years ago. (Only about 65% of them.)
Now go enjoy the day, vote if you haven’t, and please help yourself to one of my virtual toothbrushes.
Have you seen this awesome doc yet? You should watch it on Netflix immediately. And then listen to this ep of me and Ray’s podcast, where we have a great talk with Improv Everywhere founder Charlie Todd.
I am going to start blogging every week.
This Tumblr of mine has been in existence for over five years. (I know this because a couple of months ago Tumblr sent me an email wishing me a happy five years of Tumbling. That was nice.)
For the past three or so years my relationship with this blog has been very touch-and-go. Emphasis on the go. From April 2011 through June 2013 I flat-out abandoned this thing. I am still so sorry about that, sweet Tumbly.
*My Tumblr crosses its arms and frowns.*
But there’s a good reason - I was writing a book!
*My Tumblr slowly shakes its head at me.*
You don’t think that’s a good enough reason?
*My Tumblr shrugs while sarcastically raising its eyebrows, then looks away.*
All right, well, my Tumblr and I are still working things out, but my point is, I’m going to be writing things on here in a semi-regular fashion starting this Tuesday, November 4th (Election Day! Go vote!) and continuing every Tuesday after that until my aforementioned book, Denton Little’s Deathdate comes out on April 14th, 2015. And who knows, maybe I’ll even continue blogging after that. One step at a time, though, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.
I should add that this official announcement of my blogging is not me imagining that anyone actually cares enough to need an official announcement, like they’re going to mark it down on their iCal or something. Really, this announcement post is more for me than anyone. I am a huge procrastinator and if I don’t proclaim that I’m going to do this, I probably never will.
So here I am proclaiming: if you want to read about my creative process, my transition from acting to writing, pop cultural things that I love, people that I love, and some filler stuff on the weeks I can’t come up with anything because I was too busy procrastinating, then check back here on Tuesdays. Thanks.
*My Tumblr crane-kicks me in the face.*
Well, friends, it turns out THIS is the cover of my book. The sideways title has been nixed by a huge two-initialed bookstore chain that, apparently, has a lot of power in decisions such as this one.
So here it is! Though the sideways title was fun, this cover has stolen my heart. I hope it will steal yours, too.
The cover of my YA debut, DENTON LITTLE'S DEATHDATE →
The cover for my first book is now a thing that exists in the world. Checkitout!
Performing a number from our new musical Annie Golden: Bounty Hunter, Yo! →
Joe Iconis, Jason “SweetTooth” Williams, and myself will be performing a number from our new musical Annie Golden: Bounty Hunter, Yo! at the terrific CAP21, which is celebrating its 21st birthday tonight.
I’m super-proud of our musical, which uses the conventions and musical styles of exploitation movies of the 70’s and 80’s to tell the story of a down-on-her-luck veteran musical theatre actress who gets pulled into the world of bounty-hunting. Good times.
There should be more fun musical-related things to report in the coming months…
Ray's Cat Dora, Prank Calls, and Literally the Best Idea I've Ever Had →
In Episode 35 of The Lance and Ray Show podcast, Ray and I have a great talk with his cat Dora, Ray prank calls me a bunch of times, and FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER, I share the Best Idea I’ve Ever Had, which I’ve been holding onto for at least a decade now.
Brand new inventions, an exchange of letters, and improv talk. →
In this ep, we have a lovely talk with three of Ray’s teammates from his PIT house team Navy Blue Seals: Dawn Harris, Ariella Knight, and Christine Piñeiro. We actually recorded this backstage at the PIT, so you can hear lots of fun background noise, too. If you’re into that sorta thing. Which I don’t know why you would be.
Ray also shares two groundbreaking new invention ideas, and he and I exchange a series of letters, which I think you’ll find very moving.
Top 13 Movies of 2013. And being naked on film. →
Superfun new episode of The Lance and Ray Show podcast, where we each share our Top 13 Movies of ‘13, I tell a joke, and Matt Shear discusses bombing in stand-up comedy and being filmed running naked through a field.
Rights Report: Week of November 19, 2013 →
I couldn’t be more excited about this. My debut YA novel Denton Little’s Deathdate will be published by Knopf in Spring 2015.
GO ON, TELL ME A STORY | $35 - Divine Details Shop - A Shop For The Extraordinary →
Our first live Lance and Ray Show podcast is happening THIS TUESDAY night at 7:30 PM! It’s going to be a great time, and we still have some of our discount tix left if you use the code DDGuest15.
We’ll be sharing intimate stories of relationships with objects, with guests Ana Noguiera (The Michael J. Fox Show), Jon Bass (Book of Mormon), and Todd Goldstein (frontman for the band ARMS).
Divine Details is an amazing exhibition, which you’ll have time to check out before and after the show.
And free beer and wine!
Episode 26: “I like to be music rather than a soloist.” | The Lance and Ray Show →
On the most recent ep of The Lance and Ray Show podcast, we talk with actor and vocal percussionist extraordinaire Chris “Shockwave” Sullivan about the origin of his name, his philosophy on beatboxing, and his thoughts on competition. Also, he beatboxes for us, and it is awesome. And Ray and I talk about Forrest Gump and childbirth, and we put on a non-visual puppet show.
Episode 2 of our webseries Yoga Partners!
So excited about this first episode of Yoga Partners, the webseries co-written by and co-starring Katie Schorr and Leah Henoch, which I directed.
How much did I love Before Midnight? So much that when Fandango emailed to ask for a review, I actually felt inspired to write one:
Before Midnight is the third entry in what may very well be my favorite movie trilogy of all time. You don’t need to see Before Sunrise and Before Sunset first, but seeing them does make this film a richer viewing experience, one that really examines the nature of human beings and time. This is such an honest, unflinching look at love and relationships, so brilliantly written and structured, with performances so effortlessly real, you almost forget they’re acting. Funny, sad, beautiful, and moving, it does what the best art should do: it shows us to ourselves and lets us draw whatever conclusions we want.
The Lance and Ray Show | Two guys. One podcast. →
My podcast with Ray Munoz, one of the funniest humans there ever was, has been going strong since January. Each episode has some chatting, a comedy bit, an interview with a special guest, a song, and inspirational words, always under 20 minutes. Listen while you do dishes! On the subway! In your car! While you sleep!
Rhinebeck Writers Retreat to Welcome Duncan Sheik, Joe Iconis, Kait Kerrigan, Stew and More - Playbill.com →
So me, Joe Iconis, and Jason “SweetTooth” Williams are headed to Rhinebeck for a week to do more work on our musical Annie Golden: Bounty Hunter, Yo! It’s the story of a musical theater legend named Annie Golden (to be portrayed by musical theater legend Annie Golden) who’s feeling rejected by show business and generally having a rough time of it until: a chance encounter leads her into the world of Bounty Hunting. Its book and score are very much inspired and influenced by 70’s Blaxploitation films, and I’m very excited about it.