Mark Marinovich's Blog
September 23, 2025
Remembering Henry Miller’s Big Sur Years
Author, painter, and bohemian provocateur Henry Miller famously wrote the sexually explicit autobiographical novels, Tropic of Cancer and Tropic of Capricorn, while he lived in Interwar Paris during the 1930s. He returned to the U.S. just before the outbreak of World War II. Until 1964, when the U.S. Supreme Court decided that Tropic of Cancer was not obscene, both books were banned from import into the U.S.
Penniless, Miller retreated to Big Sur along California’s rugged central coast from 1944 until 1962, which he described as “the face of the earth as the Creator intended it to look.” There he continued to write, paint, and hold court among a coterie of writers, artists, and spiritual wanderers seeking solitude and inspiration far from the vicissitudes of modern life. Miller hosted regular gatherings at the legendary Nepenthe restaurant, built around a cabin constructed in 1925 and famous for its commanding cliffside view of the Pacific Coast. He briefly stayed there when he arrived in Big Sur.
Anyone who has chanced upon Big Sur and experienced its unique energy can appreciate the rarity of the place. Even after Hollywood, hoteliers, and hordes of sightseers discovered Big Sur, it still keeps a raw edge. Each winter, portions of Highway 1 slide into the sea and redwood branches take out power lines, cutting residents off from civilization for months at a time. In better weather, hawks and vultures still glide on thermals above steep hillsides, and prolific wildlife flits and scampers through redwood groves, live oaks, and grassy hillsides. Threatened California condors also make occasional appearances.
I recently visited a fascinating exhibition described as “a reconstruction of Miller's time in Big Sur” at the Monterey Museum of Art in Monterey, California, 30 miles north of Miller’s old stomping grounds. “A Garden of Earthly Delights: Henry Miller's Big Sur,” runs from August 29 through November 16, 2025, and features rare first-editions of Miller’s books, personal photographs, period artworks, and even the Underwood typewriter he used to write his Big Sur-era novels. As an avid reader of Miller and a regular visitor to Big Sur since the early 1970s, I found the exhibition a soulful sojourn to a bygone time, when artists and crafts people figured out how to cobble together cheap dwellings from extant materials and earn just enough money—seldom more, or less—to pursue their creative passions.
Maybe these back-to-nature communities were largely West Coast phenomenon, where agreeable weather, open spaces, abundant resources, and magnificent scenery beckoned artists to chuck it all and live a creative life with minimal restraints. The tradition of artists finding and supporting each other wasn’t new, but it wasn’t deep in the woods, either. Gertrude Stein hosted salons of talented artists and writers in 1920s Paris. During the 1930s, John Steinbeck and friends gathered at the seaside shack of marine biologist Ed Ricketts in Cannery Row, inspiring Steinbeck’s namesake novel.
On a personal note, I was privileged to be welcomed into a community of artists, writers, architects, and educators high in the Santa Cruz Mountains during my early years as a journalist. The most noteworthy member of the group was historian Page Smith, whose bestselling books were regular Book-of-the-Month selections. Most members were already in their 70s and 80s, and the community would fade away much too soon. I still count those gatherings under the oaks among the most enriching experiences of my life.
Today, various factors mitigate against the establishment of creative communities. The high cost of living is certainly one. According to Realtor.com, as of August 2025 the median listing price for a home in Big Sur was approximately $5.5 million, and the median sale price around $3.29 million. Building regulations have also tightened; today you need a permit just to cough—and penalties for noncompliance are severe.
A creative enclave in the woods today? Almost quaint—like Miller’s once-banned books. And how would anyone survive without cell reception?
Penniless, Miller retreated to Big Sur along California’s rugged central coast from 1944 until 1962, which he described as “the face of the earth as the Creator intended it to look.” There he continued to write, paint, and hold court among a coterie of writers, artists, and spiritual wanderers seeking solitude and inspiration far from the vicissitudes of modern life. Miller hosted regular gatherings at the legendary Nepenthe restaurant, built around a cabin constructed in 1925 and famous for its commanding cliffside view of the Pacific Coast. He briefly stayed there when he arrived in Big Sur.
Anyone who has chanced upon Big Sur and experienced its unique energy can appreciate the rarity of the place. Even after Hollywood, hoteliers, and hordes of sightseers discovered Big Sur, it still keeps a raw edge. Each winter, portions of Highway 1 slide into the sea and redwood branches take out power lines, cutting residents off from civilization for months at a time. In better weather, hawks and vultures still glide on thermals above steep hillsides, and prolific wildlife flits and scampers through redwood groves, live oaks, and grassy hillsides. Threatened California condors also make occasional appearances.
I recently visited a fascinating exhibition described as “a reconstruction of Miller's time in Big Sur” at the Monterey Museum of Art in Monterey, California, 30 miles north of Miller’s old stomping grounds. “A Garden of Earthly Delights: Henry Miller's Big Sur,” runs from August 29 through November 16, 2025, and features rare first-editions of Miller’s books, personal photographs, period artworks, and even the Underwood typewriter he used to write his Big Sur-era novels. As an avid reader of Miller and a regular visitor to Big Sur since the early 1970s, I found the exhibition a soulful sojourn to a bygone time, when artists and crafts people figured out how to cobble together cheap dwellings from extant materials and earn just enough money—seldom more, or less—to pursue their creative passions.
Maybe these back-to-nature communities were largely West Coast phenomenon, where agreeable weather, open spaces, abundant resources, and magnificent scenery beckoned artists to chuck it all and live a creative life with minimal restraints. The tradition of artists finding and supporting each other wasn’t new, but it wasn’t deep in the woods, either. Gertrude Stein hosted salons of talented artists and writers in 1920s Paris. During the 1930s, John Steinbeck and friends gathered at the seaside shack of marine biologist Ed Ricketts in Cannery Row, inspiring Steinbeck’s namesake novel.
On a personal note, I was privileged to be welcomed into a community of artists, writers, architects, and educators high in the Santa Cruz Mountains during my early years as a journalist. The most noteworthy member of the group was historian Page Smith, whose bestselling books were regular Book-of-the-Month selections. Most members were already in their 70s and 80s, and the community would fade away much too soon. I still count those gatherings under the oaks among the most enriching experiences of my life.
Today, various factors mitigate against the establishment of creative communities. The high cost of living is certainly one. According to Realtor.com, as of August 2025 the median listing price for a home in Big Sur was approximately $5.5 million, and the median sale price around $3.29 million. Building regulations have also tightened; today you need a permit just to cough—and penalties for noncompliance are severe.
A creative enclave in the woods today? Almost quaint—like Miller’s once-banned books. And how would anyone survive without cell reception?
September 19, 2025
A Word About AI
AI is increasingly shaping our daily lives. Former Google CEO Eric Schmidt calls a shared belief among AI leaders in San Francisco the “San Francisco Consensus.” They expect AI to fundamentally transform human activity within a few years, a shift Schmidt compares to the Industrial Revolution.
Writers are already feeling this shift. While AI can quickly generate everything from marketing copy to condolence messages, it’s raising questions about originality and human authorship. Creative borrowing isn’t new. Humans have been reworking ideas since words were first scratched into clay tablets. Even literary giants borrowed from each other—some scholars question the true authorship of some Shakespeare works. T.S. Eliot’s observation, "Immature poets imitate; mature poets steal,” later gave rise to the oft-quoted maxim, “Good artists borrow, great artists steal.”
AI is also raising important legal and ethical questions. In September 2023, the Authors Guild filed a class-action lawsuit against OpenAI and Microsoft, alleging their AI models were trained on copyrighted works without permission. High-profile plaintiffs include bestselling authors John Grisham, George R.R. Martin, and David Baldacci. A decade earlier, Lee Child, author of the Jack Reacher thrillers, blasted Baldacci’s protagonist, John Puller, as a “total bloody rip-off” of Reacher. Child settled the score in his novel Personal, where Reacher breaks the arms of a bad guy named Baldacci.
To borrow a line from Casablanca: “I’m shocked—shocked to find that gambling is going on in here!” Likewise, I’m not shocked that writers borrow from each other—just as they always have. AI is simply the newest player at the table.
AI is also changing the publishing industry. In late 2023, Amazon capped self-published authors at three Kindle ebook uploads per day, citing a surge of low-quality AI-generated books—generally how-to, health-related, and self-improvement nonfiction. Amazon also introduced disclosure rules and began blocking or removing content it detected as AI-written. Major publishing houses are increasingly adopting AI detection tools to screen for AI-generated content in manuscript submissions.
I asked ChatGPT what kinds of writing are unlikely to be replaced by AI. It replied: “AI is getting better at producing competent, surface-level writing, but there are several kinds of writing that are less likely to be replaced because they rely on qualities AI doesn’t authentically possess: lived experience, emotional depth, original perspective, and moral judgment.” Examples include memoir, journalism, and experimental writing.
Writers I know have mixed feelings about AI. Some are taking a wait-and-see approach. Others reject it outright. For me, AI is a tool—for research, grammar checks, and feedback. I think of it as a power saw compared to a hand saw: faster and more efficient, but still requiring skill and judgment. I dip into AI when I think it can help me sharpen my writing or locate obscure information. But the hard work of creation remains mine. Will the day come when we’ll be able to prompt AI to generate an original 300-page novel in the manner of a broadly published author like Stephen King? I believe it will—yet another shift.
AI and its myriad implications—both good and bad—are complicated, and this blog post would require frequent updates to keep pace with the rapidly evolving AI landscape. For now, that’s the state of the art.
Writers are already feeling this shift. While AI can quickly generate everything from marketing copy to condolence messages, it’s raising questions about originality and human authorship. Creative borrowing isn’t new. Humans have been reworking ideas since words were first scratched into clay tablets. Even literary giants borrowed from each other—some scholars question the true authorship of some Shakespeare works. T.S. Eliot’s observation, "Immature poets imitate; mature poets steal,” later gave rise to the oft-quoted maxim, “Good artists borrow, great artists steal.”
AI is also raising important legal and ethical questions. In September 2023, the Authors Guild filed a class-action lawsuit against OpenAI and Microsoft, alleging their AI models were trained on copyrighted works without permission. High-profile plaintiffs include bestselling authors John Grisham, George R.R. Martin, and David Baldacci. A decade earlier, Lee Child, author of the Jack Reacher thrillers, blasted Baldacci’s protagonist, John Puller, as a “total bloody rip-off” of Reacher. Child settled the score in his novel Personal, where Reacher breaks the arms of a bad guy named Baldacci.
To borrow a line from Casablanca: “I’m shocked—shocked to find that gambling is going on in here!” Likewise, I’m not shocked that writers borrow from each other—just as they always have. AI is simply the newest player at the table.
AI is also changing the publishing industry. In late 2023, Amazon capped self-published authors at three Kindle ebook uploads per day, citing a surge of low-quality AI-generated books—generally how-to, health-related, and self-improvement nonfiction. Amazon also introduced disclosure rules and began blocking or removing content it detected as AI-written. Major publishing houses are increasingly adopting AI detection tools to screen for AI-generated content in manuscript submissions.
I asked ChatGPT what kinds of writing are unlikely to be replaced by AI. It replied: “AI is getting better at producing competent, surface-level writing, but there are several kinds of writing that are less likely to be replaced because they rely on qualities AI doesn’t authentically possess: lived experience, emotional depth, original perspective, and moral judgment.” Examples include memoir, journalism, and experimental writing.
Writers I know have mixed feelings about AI. Some are taking a wait-and-see approach. Others reject it outright. For me, AI is a tool—for research, grammar checks, and feedback. I think of it as a power saw compared to a hand saw: faster and more efficient, but still requiring skill and judgment. I dip into AI when I think it can help me sharpen my writing or locate obscure information. But the hard work of creation remains mine. Will the day come when we’ll be able to prompt AI to generate an original 300-page novel in the manner of a broadly published author like Stephen King? I believe it will—yet another shift.
AI and its myriad implications—both good and bad—are complicated, and this blog post would require frequent updates to keep pace with the rapidly evolving AI landscape. For now, that’s the state of the art.
September 9, 2025
An excuse to write
Both new and seasoned writers find excuses not to write. They’re tired. Uninspired. Blocked. Busy with holidays. Travel. Maybe they have an aversion to torture. I’ve written plenty—many screenplays and, most recently, my third novel—but I still need to warm up. Wash the dishes, watch the news, take a walk—anything to steer me away from my desk. Eventually, though, I sit down and do the work. Often, it is just that—work. That’s why writers grasp for excuses to avoid the excruciating pain of typing, scrawling, or dictating those first tentative sentences.
I wrote my previous novel six years ago while working full-time at a Silicon Valley tech company. I started writing at 4:30 each morning before work. At times it was grueling. I questioned myself: why put myself through this? I didn’t expect I’d ever write another novel—until my close encounter with a parking lot.
Two Januarys ago, I tripped and fell, sustaining multiple fractures to my right arm. The pain was relentless. I felt much like Alex DeLarge, the leader of the “droogs” in A Clockwork Orange, whose eyes were clamped open to force him to watch films designed to discourage violent behavior. I, in my own way, was trapped, staring at books and TV 24 hours a day. After a week, I realized I needed to find another way forward.
To keep my mind occupied and distracted from the pain, I started writing Seacliff Park, aiming for 200 pages—enough to get me through months of rehab. Ten months and 500 pages later, I printed the draft and gradually edited it down to 460 pages. I found an excuse to write—and I’ll always be grateful to that parking lot.
I wrote my previous novel six years ago while working full-time at a Silicon Valley tech company. I started writing at 4:30 each morning before work. At times it was grueling. I questioned myself: why put myself through this? I didn’t expect I’d ever write another novel—until my close encounter with a parking lot.
Two Januarys ago, I tripped and fell, sustaining multiple fractures to my right arm. The pain was relentless. I felt much like Alex DeLarge, the leader of the “droogs” in A Clockwork Orange, whose eyes were clamped open to force him to watch films designed to discourage violent behavior. I, in my own way, was trapped, staring at books and TV 24 hours a day. After a week, I realized I needed to find another way forward.
To keep my mind occupied and distracted from the pain, I started writing Seacliff Park, aiming for 200 pages—enough to get me through months of rehab. Ten months and 500 pages later, I printed the draft and gradually edited it down to 460 pages. I found an excuse to write—and I’ll always be grateful to that parking lot.
July 22, 2025
Coming Soon: Seacliff Park, a historical thriller
My new novel, Seacliff Park, an adult historical thriller, will debut on Amazon on Sept. 15, 2025. Interwoven storylines and complex character dynamics pull readers into a perilous world of class conflict, personal betrayal, and a ruthless power struggle between criminal organizations—all culminating in a high-stakes, race-against-time climax.
Set in 1929 at the height of Prohibition, Seacliff Park follows young newlyweds who embark on an ambitious dream: building an amusement park atop a derelict WWI oil tanker, the SS Palo Alto, grounded along the shore of Monterey Bay. But unbeknownst to them, bootleggers have secretly installed a speakeasy in the heart of their ship. When open warfare erupts between rival crime syndicates, the couple is thrust into a deadly crossfire and must outwit merciless criminals to hold onto their lives—and each other.
Fans of gritty noir fiction—populated by cutthroat mob bosses, cunning femme fatales, and doomed innocents—and admirers of atmospheric period films like L.A. Confidential, The Godfather, and Chinatown will be transported to the shadowy world of Seacliff Park.
Free Giveaway
I’m giving away free print copies of Seacliff Park to the first 25 Goodreads members who request one in exchange for an honest review. If you’re interested, please provide your mailing details to:
seacliffparknovel@gmail.com
Set in 1929 at the height of Prohibition, Seacliff Park follows young newlyweds who embark on an ambitious dream: building an amusement park atop a derelict WWI oil tanker, the SS Palo Alto, grounded along the shore of Monterey Bay. But unbeknownst to them, bootleggers have secretly installed a speakeasy in the heart of their ship. When open warfare erupts between rival crime syndicates, the couple is thrust into a deadly crossfire and must outwit merciless criminals to hold onto their lives—and each other.
Fans of gritty noir fiction—populated by cutthroat mob bosses, cunning femme fatales, and doomed innocents—and admirers of atmospheric period films like L.A. Confidential, The Godfather, and Chinatown will be transported to the shadowy world of Seacliff Park.
Free Giveaway
I’m giving away free print copies of Seacliff Park to the first 25 Goodreads members who request one in exchange for an honest review. If you’re interested, please provide your mailing details to:
seacliffparknovel@gmail.com
November 13, 2018
My Top 10 Novel-writing Tips
I studied journalism in college, wrote for several newspapers, became a freelance copywriter, and cranked out ten screenplays. Soon after I began writing my first novel, The White Boats, I realized there remained a yawning deficit in my writing experience and capabilities—I didn’t know how to write a novel.
To fill the void, I manufactured an MFA creative writing crash course of my own design and accreditation. My core coursework consisted of studying the writing styles and advice of successful authors. I learned that Stephen King hates adverbs, Anne Rice loves short sentences, Jonathan Franzen thinks “then” should never be used as a conjunction, and J.K. Rowling advises perseverance.
I also learned that authors differ on some of the most fundamental aspects of the writing process. Some think every chapter and story detail must be meticulously planned and plotted prior to the writing, while others consider novel-writing a real time process of discovery and serendipity. Some believe rules are meant to be broken while others sneer at anyone who deviates from proper grammar and punctuation.
I found that all successful authors at least agree on these three bits of advice: Read a lot, write a lot, and ignore writing advice.
After writing two novels and completing my MFA studies, I have developed some opinions of my own. Here are my Top Ten tips.
1. Write in the active voice. Study it, know it, apply it. The active voice is clearer and more propulsive than the passive voice. Don’t worry that it’s “economical” and may not reflect your special gift for awe-inspiring sentence constructions. Your readers will thank you. Side note: If your story loses more than it gains after you clear away the passive stuff, consider that your story might need more work, not your writing.
2. Write about what you care about. If you can sustain interest in a commercial, formulaic story for a year or two, great—you probably stand a better chance of securing an agent and publisher. (Instant insight: gruesome murders, legal dramas, and alien invasions never go out of style.) If you do write a commercial story, wrap your plot around something you really care about—incoming asteroids, bacterial infections, orphans—and you’ll probably produce a better result.
3. To outline or not to outline? We in my personal MFA program believe that outlining is a double-edged sword: Too much outlining can erode one’s enthusiasm for the actual writing and prevent happy accidents that enrich and enliven the story, and too little planning can lead to time-and-energy-sapping detours that can impede forward progress and even defeat the writer. Try to strike a balance. Before you start writing, at least give some thought to the beginning, middle and end of your story, your main characters, and key turning points. That will help you get through the next couple years, including weekends and holidays.
4. Learn basic writing rules. Even if you’re the most talented writer in the world, your story may not see the light of day if it’s rife with grammar and punctuation errors. Recommended reading: The Elements of Style by William Strunk Jr., E.B. White, and grammar websites. (Fast fact: Mignon Fogarty and I were members of the same writing group before she became the “Grammar Girl.”) Mark Twain said, “Get your facts first, and then distort them as much as you please.” Play with grammar rules after you know them, not before. Your readers will know.
5. It’s okay to use a thesaurus. Really. Many famous authors claim they turn off the Internet and never touch a thesaurus when they work. In my MFA program, we freely avail ourselves of both resources. If you use the same adjectives again and again your story will suffer. My working subtitle for my first novel was “They Stared and Glared.” I used “stared” and “glared” so often they lost all impact. A thesaurus will help you avoid overuse of favorite descriptors. Related: It’s also okay to use all ten fingers when you type and a pen when you handwrite.
6. Write short chapters. A.J. Finn, author of the bestseller, The Woman in the Window, writes what he calls “bite-size” chapters to sustain readers’ interest. Keep in mind that readers like to lay their books down at well-defined breaking points when they feel like it, not twenty-three pages off in the distant future when the current chapter they’re reading finally resolves. Hanging chads: Try to end each short chapter with a “cliffhanger”—some loose end that’s tied up in the following chapter to keep your readers turning the pages. All bestselling authors employ cliffhangers. Dan Brown, author of The Da Vinci Code, is a master.
7. Write different ways. Vary your writing practices to keep your work fresh. Write at different hours in different environments. Edit both digital and paper printouts. Order a proof copy of your novel. Read it out loud. And give your work an occasional timeout, too. The distance will bring it into sharper focus.
8. Think small to overcome writer’s block. When you’re grappling with the big picture and struggling to think three words, let alone three chapters, ahead, try focusing on a single sentence you’ve already written and look for ways to improve it. You’ll be pleasantly surprised by how much better the sentence will be after you rework it a few times. Your new and improved sentence will also give you confidence to tackle the big picture again.
9. So what if you didn’t invent it? Sometimes I google brilliant similes, metaphors and phrases I wrote to see if they’re devastating works of profound artistry. They almost never are. If you can’t find your amazing inventions in a google search (add quotes around your phrase for precise results), double-check your grammar and spelling, or consider the possibility that it hasn’t been used before for good reason. On the other hand, maybe you should be giving writing advice to aspiring authors.
10. Finally, the most important lessons I learned in my MFA program: Read a lot, write a lot, and ignore writing advice.
To fill the void, I manufactured an MFA creative writing crash course of my own design and accreditation. My core coursework consisted of studying the writing styles and advice of successful authors. I learned that Stephen King hates adverbs, Anne Rice loves short sentences, Jonathan Franzen thinks “then” should never be used as a conjunction, and J.K. Rowling advises perseverance.
I also learned that authors differ on some of the most fundamental aspects of the writing process. Some think every chapter and story detail must be meticulously planned and plotted prior to the writing, while others consider novel-writing a real time process of discovery and serendipity. Some believe rules are meant to be broken while others sneer at anyone who deviates from proper grammar and punctuation.
I found that all successful authors at least agree on these three bits of advice: Read a lot, write a lot, and ignore writing advice.
After writing two novels and completing my MFA studies, I have developed some opinions of my own. Here are my Top Ten tips.
1. Write in the active voice. Study it, know it, apply it. The active voice is clearer and more propulsive than the passive voice. Don’t worry that it’s “economical” and may not reflect your special gift for awe-inspiring sentence constructions. Your readers will thank you. Side note: If your story loses more than it gains after you clear away the passive stuff, consider that your story might need more work, not your writing.
2. Write about what you care about. If you can sustain interest in a commercial, formulaic story for a year or two, great—you probably stand a better chance of securing an agent and publisher. (Instant insight: gruesome murders, legal dramas, and alien invasions never go out of style.) If you do write a commercial story, wrap your plot around something you really care about—incoming asteroids, bacterial infections, orphans—and you’ll probably produce a better result.
3. To outline or not to outline? We in my personal MFA program believe that outlining is a double-edged sword: Too much outlining can erode one’s enthusiasm for the actual writing and prevent happy accidents that enrich and enliven the story, and too little planning can lead to time-and-energy-sapping detours that can impede forward progress and even defeat the writer. Try to strike a balance. Before you start writing, at least give some thought to the beginning, middle and end of your story, your main characters, and key turning points. That will help you get through the next couple years, including weekends and holidays.
4. Learn basic writing rules. Even if you’re the most talented writer in the world, your story may not see the light of day if it’s rife with grammar and punctuation errors. Recommended reading: The Elements of Style by William Strunk Jr., E.B. White, and grammar websites. (Fast fact: Mignon Fogarty and I were members of the same writing group before she became the “Grammar Girl.”) Mark Twain said, “Get your facts first, and then distort them as much as you please.” Play with grammar rules after you know them, not before. Your readers will know.
5. It’s okay to use a thesaurus. Really. Many famous authors claim they turn off the Internet and never touch a thesaurus when they work. In my MFA program, we freely avail ourselves of both resources. If you use the same adjectives again and again your story will suffer. My working subtitle for my first novel was “They Stared and Glared.” I used “stared” and “glared” so often they lost all impact. A thesaurus will help you avoid overuse of favorite descriptors. Related: It’s also okay to use all ten fingers when you type and a pen when you handwrite.
6. Write short chapters. A.J. Finn, author of the bestseller, The Woman in the Window, writes what he calls “bite-size” chapters to sustain readers’ interest. Keep in mind that readers like to lay their books down at well-defined breaking points when they feel like it, not twenty-three pages off in the distant future when the current chapter they’re reading finally resolves. Hanging chads: Try to end each short chapter with a “cliffhanger”—some loose end that’s tied up in the following chapter to keep your readers turning the pages. All bestselling authors employ cliffhangers. Dan Brown, author of The Da Vinci Code, is a master.
7. Write different ways. Vary your writing practices to keep your work fresh. Write at different hours in different environments. Edit both digital and paper printouts. Order a proof copy of your novel. Read it out loud. And give your work an occasional timeout, too. The distance will bring it into sharper focus.
8. Think small to overcome writer’s block. When you’re grappling with the big picture and struggling to think three words, let alone three chapters, ahead, try focusing on a single sentence you’ve already written and look for ways to improve it. You’ll be pleasantly surprised by how much better the sentence will be after you rework it a few times. Your new and improved sentence will also give you confidence to tackle the big picture again.
9. So what if you didn’t invent it? Sometimes I google brilliant similes, metaphors and phrases I wrote to see if they’re devastating works of profound artistry. They almost never are. If you can’t find your amazing inventions in a google search (add quotes around your phrase for precise results), double-check your grammar and spelling, or consider the possibility that it hasn’t been used before for good reason. On the other hand, maybe you should be giving writing advice to aspiring authors.
10. Finally, the most important lessons I learned in my MFA program: Read a lot, write a lot, and ignore writing advice.
March 18, 2017
The White Boats Movie? Maybe.
“It’s not the quantity, it’s the quality.” That old saying comes to mind when I think about some recent good fortune. I published The White Boats last year. Frankly, it has not become a NY Times bestseller. That’s okay. My primary goal was to spread the word about the rising tide of plastic pollution in the marine environment, which I believe poses a potentially irreversible existential threat to our blue planet. I’ve received enough feedback to know that my message has been heard loud and clear by hundreds of readers to date, and I hope they join the global effort to help curb plastic pollution. Many of them even enjoyed my simple story about a courageous boy who saves a whale. All the better.
Though The White Boats hasn’t been published in 99 languages or won a Nobel Prize in Literature, it did fall into the hands of one Silicon Valley tech entrepreneur and film fan who fell in love with my story. And—he would like to see The White Boats made into a movie. Last fall, he optioned the movie and TV rights to my novel and contracted me to write the screenplay adaptation. I’ve since written three drafts, and a fourth draft may be in the offing.
I signed a confidentiality agreement so I’m not at liberty to disclose specific details. I can share that two seasoned Hollywood producers are very interested in the project and providing a lot of input (you may know one of them—you’ve definitely seen his movies). I’m a writer, not a producer, and the day-to-day grind of piecing a movie production together is of little interest to me. It’s fun and exciting to hear about actors they might want to engage to portray Abuelito and Rosa and Ramiro Ramos, but my focus remains firmly fixed on telling the best story I can.
The process of adapting a book into the screenplay format is interesting—and quite challenging. Screenplays are usually compressed versions of the novels from which they are adapted. The average screenplay is about 10,000 words and 100 pages in length, and at least half of a typical script is dialogue. The White Boats novel is 40,000 words so I had to trim about 75 percent of my story to achieve the desired screenplay page count. I chopped characters, dialogue, plot points and scenes, and, at the producers’ behest, I changed the ending, too.
Sometimes it was painful to gut favorite aspects of my novel, but I’m grateful that I was given a first whack at finding solutions that did not compromise my vision, while satisfying the producers’ needs. Fortunately, they want to keep my plastic pollution message; it’s a central element in the screenplay.
The White Boats movie project sits at Square One-and-a-Half. Many miles, and maybe even many years, lie ahead in The White Boats’ journey to the silver screen. Here’s hoping for a little movie magic!
Though The White Boats hasn’t been published in 99 languages or won a Nobel Prize in Literature, it did fall into the hands of one Silicon Valley tech entrepreneur and film fan who fell in love with my story. And—he would like to see The White Boats made into a movie. Last fall, he optioned the movie and TV rights to my novel and contracted me to write the screenplay adaptation. I’ve since written three drafts, and a fourth draft may be in the offing.
I signed a confidentiality agreement so I’m not at liberty to disclose specific details. I can share that two seasoned Hollywood producers are very interested in the project and providing a lot of input (you may know one of them—you’ve definitely seen his movies). I’m a writer, not a producer, and the day-to-day grind of piecing a movie production together is of little interest to me. It’s fun and exciting to hear about actors they might want to engage to portray Abuelito and Rosa and Ramiro Ramos, but my focus remains firmly fixed on telling the best story I can.
The process of adapting a book into the screenplay format is interesting—and quite challenging. Screenplays are usually compressed versions of the novels from which they are adapted. The average screenplay is about 10,000 words and 100 pages in length, and at least half of a typical script is dialogue. The White Boats novel is 40,000 words so I had to trim about 75 percent of my story to achieve the desired screenplay page count. I chopped characters, dialogue, plot points and scenes, and, at the producers’ behest, I changed the ending, too.
Sometimes it was painful to gut favorite aspects of my novel, but I’m grateful that I was given a first whack at finding solutions that did not compromise my vision, while satisfying the producers’ needs. Fortunately, they want to keep my plastic pollution message; it’s a central element in the screenplay.
The White Boats movie project sits at Square One-and-a-Half. Many miles, and maybe even many years, lie ahead in The White Boats’ journey to the silver screen. Here’s hoping for a little movie magic!
November 10, 2016
Nothing says “I Love You” like Non-plastic Toys
During my morning walks along idyllic Monterey Bay beaches I often stumble—literally—upon plastic debris that washed up on the shore or was left behind by beach-goers. Often that debris is toys—bright, shiny and new plastic pails, shovels, balls, discs, boats, trucks, dolls and soldiers. So many toys, in fact, that local city leaders came up with a plan this year to collect the toys rather than dump them into landfills or leave them to wash into the ocean. Now parents can drop off unwanted toys in beach toy recycling bins and the toys will be turned over to preschools, day care centers, and charities that need them.
Recycling or repurposing any plastic material is good for people, wildlife and the environment. While plastic toys aren’t exactly single-use, like plastic bags, straws and water bottles, a stroll down any toy store aisle reveals that plastic toys are plentiful, cheap, and ephemeral—affordable fancies that temporarily sate a child’s longing for something—anything—fun and new.
With the biggest toy season of the year fast approaching, I wonder if we can think a step ahead of those toy recycling bins by the beach. Maybe we can circumvent the inevitable fate of toxic plastic knickknacks that are destined to decompose in landfills and oceans for hundreds or thousands of years.
This holiday season, let’s take a stand—somewhere between our mission to make our kids happy and the landfills and oceans where briefly-beloved toys go to die. Let’s buy toys that aren’t made of plastic.
Where to find terrific non-plastic toys
Google these keywords to find new non-plastic toys and games online:
• Eco-friendly toys, games
• Organic toys, games
• Wooden toys, games
• Metal toys, games
• Non-plastic toys, games
• Non-toxic toys, games
• Green toys, games
• Recycled toys, games
• Handmade toys
Popular online resources for used, collectible and vintage toys:
• eBay
• Amazon
• Etsy
• Craigslist
Just a short walk or drive away:
• Used sporting goods stores
• Yard and garage sales
• Flea markets
• Friends’ and neighbors’ closets and garages
Though your kids may not get exactly what they asked for this year, they may get something better. Thanks, and Happy Holidays!
Recycling or repurposing any plastic material is good for people, wildlife and the environment. While plastic toys aren’t exactly single-use, like plastic bags, straws and water bottles, a stroll down any toy store aisle reveals that plastic toys are plentiful, cheap, and ephemeral—affordable fancies that temporarily sate a child’s longing for something—anything—fun and new.
With the biggest toy season of the year fast approaching, I wonder if we can think a step ahead of those toy recycling bins by the beach. Maybe we can circumvent the inevitable fate of toxic plastic knickknacks that are destined to decompose in landfills and oceans for hundreds or thousands of years.
This holiday season, let’s take a stand—somewhere between our mission to make our kids happy and the landfills and oceans where briefly-beloved toys go to die. Let’s buy toys that aren’t made of plastic.
Where to find terrific non-plastic toys
Google these keywords to find new non-plastic toys and games online:
• Eco-friendly toys, games
• Organic toys, games
• Wooden toys, games
• Metal toys, games
• Non-plastic toys, games
• Non-toxic toys, games
• Green toys, games
• Recycled toys, games
• Handmade toys
Popular online resources for used, collectible and vintage toys:
• eBay
• Amazon
• Etsy
• Craigslist
Just a short walk or drive away:
• Used sporting goods stores
• Yard and garage sales
• Flea markets
• Friends’ and neighbors’ closets and garages
Though your kids may not get exactly what they asked for this year, they may get something better. Thanks, and Happy Holidays!
September 10, 2016
Eyewitness to History
Sometimes, if you actually pay attention when other people are talking, you may hear and learn unexpected things—things that broaden your awareness and deepen your understanding. I recently paid attention to a sagacious septuagenarian who was himself paying attention when the plastic hit the fan during the last century. His anecdotal insights may not be found in scientific papers or data banks, but they offer valuable clues in reconstructing the origins of our toxic addiction to plastic.
During the mid-20th Century, young Larry often accompanied his father, Dan, in his work as a demolition contractor. Larry eventually followed in his father’s footsteps and began salvaging reusable goods and materials. His earliest memories of plastic are of consumer products cast in colorful and transparent Bakelite, invented in 1907 by chemist Leo Baekeland. Bakelite was attractive and durable—ideal for women’s dresser sets, game pieces, and even steering wheels in luxury cars—and enjoys an enduring vogue as a retro collectible. Larry says the Bakelite products were “precursors to plastic as we know it today.”
He recalls that by the mid-1950s new types of plastic were being used in the production in an ever-increasing volume of consumer products. Unlike Bakelite, the new plastic had a “brittle” quality. “My father was disappointed and outraged that the Japanese were sending all this plastic crap to the U.S. Before that, everything was made of metal and wood. Tools, toys and household goods were all made of tin or iron, and suddenly plastic was coming out because it was cheap. But it would break and we’d burn it in the backyard.” Few gave any thought to the disposal of plastic—or its potential consequences: “It never entered our minds. Back then, plastic was burned in dumps or on barges in the ocean.” Larry believes that the practice of burning plastic refuse in the U.S. ended by the late 1950s.
Larry theorizes that the onset of our plastic dependency was a direct result of the Second World War. “From what I was told, plastic was more prevalent after World War II. It was used out of necessity because metal was needed for the war effort.”
It is Larry’s impression that international centers of the burgeoning plastic manufacturing industry “transitioned from Japan to Taiwan to Mexico and now China.” He says “price” was always the principal driver of the transitions. Plastic got better—and cheaper. “Now everything you touch is plastic. That’s all young people know. They grew up in a world of plastic.”
Today, Larry thinks landfills present exciting new opportunities: “I think the dumps should be mined. They’re full of metal, glass and compost. They’re a huge resource all over the world. If I was younger, I would get the city of San Jose [California, near his home] to pay me to mine the dumps. There are thousands of tons of metal and antique bricks. And maybe the plastic can be separated from the compost.”
During the mid-20th Century, young Larry often accompanied his father, Dan, in his work as a demolition contractor. Larry eventually followed in his father’s footsteps and began salvaging reusable goods and materials. His earliest memories of plastic are of consumer products cast in colorful and transparent Bakelite, invented in 1907 by chemist Leo Baekeland. Bakelite was attractive and durable—ideal for women’s dresser sets, game pieces, and even steering wheels in luxury cars—and enjoys an enduring vogue as a retro collectible. Larry says the Bakelite products were “precursors to plastic as we know it today.”
He recalls that by the mid-1950s new types of plastic were being used in the production in an ever-increasing volume of consumer products. Unlike Bakelite, the new plastic had a “brittle” quality. “My father was disappointed and outraged that the Japanese were sending all this plastic crap to the U.S. Before that, everything was made of metal and wood. Tools, toys and household goods were all made of tin or iron, and suddenly plastic was coming out because it was cheap. But it would break and we’d burn it in the backyard.” Few gave any thought to the disposal of plastic—or its potential consequences: “It never entered our minds. Back then, plastic was burned in dumps or on barges in the ocean.” Larry believes that the practice of burning plastic refuse in the U.S. ended by the late 1950s.
Larry theorizes that the onset of our plastic dependency was a direct result of the Second World War. “From what I was told, plastic was more prevalent after World War II. It was used out of necessity because metal was needed for the war effort.”
It is Larry’s impression that international centers of the burgeoning plastic manufacturing industry “transitioned from Japan to Taiwan to Mexico and now China.” He says “price” was always the principal driver of the transitions. Plastic got better—and cheaper. “Now everything you touch is plastic. That’s all young people know. They grew up in a world of plastic.”
Today, Larry thinks landfills present exciting new opportunities: “I think the dumps should be mined. They’re full of metal, glass and compost. They’re a huge resource all over the world. If I was younger, I would get the city of San Jose [California, near his home] to pay me to mine the dumps. There are thousands of tons of metal and antique bricks. And maybe the plastic can be separated from the compost.”
August 21, 2016
Creature Comforts
I recently spent a glorious Saturday afternoon at an IKEA store. I wanted to take home one of every beautiful Scandinavian-designed item I saw, of course, including all 99 kitchen and furniture showrooms. I was especially taken with one product in particular—a white plastic TOKIG salad spinner, retail price $5.99. The salad spinner was the answer to my salad-prep dreams—a faster, easier, more effective, yet economical, way to dry lettuce and other produce after rinsing. Yippee!
I gently lifted a TOKIG salad spinner, one of 2,000 displayed, off a shelf. It wasn't too heavy and it wasn't too light. Whoever designed this impressive machine really knew their stuff—the salad spinner was the very essence of well-engineered plastic. I gave the product a tentative, trial spin. It surpassed my highest expectations, whirring and twirling like a finely-balanced gyroscope. I felt empowered as I spun the handle, knowing that my wet lettuce would be defenseless against the powerful centripetal force generated by the whirling colander inside the water collection bowl, which doubles as a salad server.
Always mindful of the damage that toxic plastic waste inflicts on wildlife and the environment, I was reassured when I read, "The material in this product MAY BE [IKEA's emphasis] recyclable. Please check the recycling rules in your community and if recycling facilities exist in your area." No problem—I, and 2,000 more TOKIG salad spinner buyers that day, could spend the next Saturday afternoon hunting down that info. I also read this: "No Bisphenol A added." Obviously, I was greatly relieved that Bisphenol A was not added to the product, which I already envisioned sitting in the cabinet next to my sink. I certainly don't need more Bisphenol A, whatever that is, in my life. If any other potentially harmful chemicals were in the salad spinner, IKEA would undoubtedly reveal them. Hmmmm, I thought. I didn't see any info about Bisphenol A on the other plastic stuff I brought home from IKEA. The company wouldn't neglect to mention it, would they? Nah.
I cranked the handle a few more times and happily placed the still-spinning salad spinner in my shopping cart. As I rolled away from the product display, I asked myself: After drying lettuce in metal colanders or between dish towels most of my adult life, was the extra convenience offered by the plastic spinner, which might contain harmful chemicals and is destined to exist in a landfill 1,000 years from now, really worth the benefit? We are dependent on plastic in virtually every aspect of our lives. That's why we're addicted to it. When we choose alternative behaviors, it hurts—sometimes a lot. We all want our rattles, which are usually made of...
With a heavy heart I removed the TOKIG salad spinner from my cart and returned it to the shelf. Plastic withdrawals are hard. Fortunately, the pain will go away. The plastic won't.
I gently lifted a TOKIG salad spinner, one of 2,000 displayed, off a shelf. It wasn't too heavy and it wasn't too light. Whoever designed this impressive machine really knew their stuff—the salad spinner was the very essence of well-engineered plastic. I gave the product a tentative, trial spin. It surpassed my highest expectations, whirring and twirling like a finely-balanced gyroscope. I felt empowered as I spun the handle, knowing that my wet lettuce would be defenseless against the powerful centripetal force generated by the whirling colander inside the water collection bowl, which doubles as a salad server.
Always mindful of the damage that toxic plastic waste inflicts on wildlife and the environment, I was reassured when I read, "The material in this product MAY BE [IKEA's emphasis] recyclable. Please check the recycling rules in your community and if recycling facilities exist in your area." No problem—I, and 2,000 more TOKIG salad spinner buyers that day, could spend the next Saturday afternoon hunting down that info. I also read this: "No Bisphenol A added." Obviously, I was greatly relieved that Bisphenol A was not added to the product, which I already envisioned sitting in the cabinet next to my sink. I certainly don't need more Bisphenol A, whatever that is, in my life. If any other potentially harmful chemicals were in the salad spinner, IKEA would undoubtedly reveal them. Hmmmm, I thought. I didn't see any info about Bisphenol A on the other plastic stuff I brought home from IKEA. The company wouldn't neglect to mention it, would they? Nah.
I cranked the handle a few more times and happily placed the still-spinning salad spinner in my shopping cart. As I rolled away from the product display, I asked myself: After drying lettuce in metal colanders or between dish towels most of my adult life, was the extra convenience offered by the plastic spinner, which might contain harmful chemicals and is destined to exist in a landfill 1,000 years from now, really worth the benefit? We are dependent on plastic in virtually every aspect of our lives. That's why we're addicted to it. When we choose alternative behaviors, it hurts—sometimes a lot. We all want our rattles, which are usually made of...
With a heavy heart I removed the TOKIG salad spinner from my cart and returned it to the shelf. Plastic withdrawals are hard. Fortunately, the pain will go away. The plastic won't.
August 12, 2016
Star Power
Marine plastic pollution does not always lie on the surface of the ocean, nor does it always float to the top in the media. It’s usually the stuff of page 8, where editors who are not on the front lines of the oceanic plastic harvest park news items about the latest dreary research findings.
Last year, the San Francisco Bay Area, where I live, was in a dither about media reports concerning estimated billions of microbeads—those tiny plastic pellets found in body scrubs and toothpaste—littering the bay, and the unfortunate fish that mistake them for food. Plastic on Hawaiian beaches has apparently reached a critical mass of unsightliness. I recently saw stories about it in two places! So news about marine plastic pollution does occasionally make it onto land.
I wrote The White Boats to enwrap the angsty marine plastic pollution message in an entertaining story that will hopefully affect broader awareness of the problem. Maybe that’s the solution to marine plastic pollution’s low media profile—more entertainment!
Disasters, both natural and human-made, have long been fertile ground for big-budget, special effects-driven motion pictures. Movies about errant asteroids, forest fires, and killer tornadoes, volcanoes, tsunamis, earthquakes and perfect storms, as well as human-generated environmental catastrophes such as climate change, imperiled species, contaminated towns, poisoned drinking water, and nuclear apocalypses never fail to draw—and please—large audiences. Maybe what's needed to get the word out is a big, sprawling movie about marine plastic pollution. Hollywood has so much material to work with, too!
For lead actors, I’m thinking a galaxy of stars—Denzell Washington, Jennifer Lawrence, Leonardo DiCaprio, Angelina Jolie, Brad Pitt, Julia Roberts and Melissa McCarthy. The movie would need a plot; let’s trap a boatload of children who are away at sea camp in a plastic debris field in the middle of the ocean. To boost the sympathy quotient, the kids would have a mascot on board, maybe rescue dog—half Scottie, half Corgi—named “Dog,” and they would be accompanied by a curious dolphin whose clever antics provide a constant source of amusement.
When the boozy captain of the sea camp boat heedlessly tosses a lit cigar butt into the plastic debris field—WHOOSH—it ignites, sending towering flames into the upper atmosphere. The fire quickly spreads and soon grows to the size of Connecticut—or is it Texas?
Will the dolphin reach a cruise ship that happens to be in the vicinity in time to alert the passengers, portrayed by my galaxy of stars? Can the passengers save the children from the burning plastic? Will Dog’s frantic barking awaken the passed-out captain before flames engulf his boat?
Or maybe they can just make a movie based on my novel.
Last year, the San Francisco Bay Area, where I live, was in a dither about media reports concerning estimated billions of microbeads—those tiny plastic pellets found in body scrubs and toothpaste—littering the bay, and the unfortunate fish that mistake them for food. Plastic on Hawaiian beaches has apparently reached a critical mass of unsightliness. I recently saw stories about it in two places! So news about marine plastic pollution does occasionally make it onto land.
I wrote The White Boats to enwrap the angsty marine plastic pollution message in an entertaining story that will hopefully affect broader awareness of the problem. Maybe that’s the solution to marine plastic pollution’s low media profile—more entertainment!
Disasters, both natural and human-made, have long been fertile ground for big-budget, special effects-driven motion pictures. Movies about errant asteroids, forest fires, and killer tornadoes, volcanoes, tsunamis, earthquakes and perfect storms, as well as human-generated environmental catastrophes such as climate change, imperiled species, contaminated towns, poisoned drinking water, and nuclear apocalypses never fail to draw—and please—large audiences. Maybe what's needed to get the word out is a big, sprawling movie about marine plastic pollution. Hollywood has so much material to work with, too!
For lead actors, I’m thinking a galaxy of stars—Denzell Washington, Jennifer Lawrence, Leonardo DiCaprio, Angelina Jolie, Brad Pitt, Julia Roberts and Melissa McCarthy. The movie would need a plot; let’s trap a boatload of children who are away at sea camp in a plastic debris field in the middle of the ocean. To boost the sympathy quotient, the kids would have a mascot on board, maybe rescue dog—half Scottie, half Corgi—named “Dog,” and they would be accompanied by a curious dolphin whose clever antics provide a constant source of amusement.
When the boozy captain of the sea camp boat heedlessly tosses a lit cigar butt into the plastic debris field—WHOOSH—it ignites, sending towering flames into the upper atmosphere. The fire quickly spreads and soon grows to the size of Connecticut—or is it Texas?
Will the dolphin reach a cruise ship that happens to be in the vicinity in time to alert the passengers, portrayed by my galaxy of stars? Can the passengers save the children from the burning plastic? Will Dog’s frantic barking awaken the passed-out captain before flames engulf his boat?
Or maybe they can just make a movie based on my novel.
