Captain America (Dialogue Tension) and Hot Tamales

We went to see Captain America last night. I know, Tuesday night date night--awesome! While I was on my roadtrip, we got behind on movies and had to get back on track with the summer blockbusters.

I loved Captain America. For one thing, it was great to see a superhero that wasn't flawed. He was chosen to become super for his integrity and values, and he remained true to them in courage to the end. It was refreshing after years of anti-heroes.

I love going to the movies for a lot of reasons. One is the popcorn. So salty, so fabulous. My friend Tina told me (possibly it was a comment on this blog!) that popcorn mixed with Hot Tamales candy is fantastic. I can't imagine she's wrong. I bet it's great. Cinnamon, sugar, salt, butter, heat. Yeah!
Are there too many references to hot things in this blog?


Which reminds me, the guy who played Captain America also played the Human Torch in Fantastic Four a few years ago. (Not my favorite film. All they did was stand around and complain they had super powers. Come on!)

As I was listening to the movie's dialogue, I noticed some great things about it. One, no phrase was wasted. Every single line served to reveal character of the speaker. It either explained some kind of background, some values he/she held, or some dream he/she had. Well done, screenwriters!

Another thing it did well was convey tension. Each line had conflict. Every sentence challenged another character's feelings or beliefs or ego. The romantic lines were especially good--no mushiness, all tension and strength.

I know, I know--a show like that shouldn't be a primer for how to do dialogue. We should refer to Woody Allen's older works or something. But this was good stuff, and I'm excited to get back to editing this morning and take a lesson from Captain America.

I think we all could.

Wasted Calories

I think the candy du jour needs to be Krackel. Kinda nasty chocolate only mitigated by a ricey crispy crunch. It's low on my favorites list, possibly only ahead of its sister chocolate made by Nestle, the dreaded Crunch bar. I think they make the chocolate, taste it, and if it's a bad batch or the milk was sour or something else was generally "off", they say, "Ew. Let's throw in some Rice Krispies and sell it anyway."

Yes, I ate a Krackel just now. I hate to admit it. It was the miniature size, and it was the only piece of chocolate in the house. (Nothing against all y'all who just love a Krackel. Some of my favorite people in the world love a Krackel bar.)

Sometimes I find I do my reading that way. Whatever happens to be on the shelf that I haven't read yet, I'll just pick it up and read. I don't necessarily like it, but there's this compelling force in me, a need to read, that's irrepressible. Quite often I end up reading stuff I really don't care for.

This year I went on this forever long diet. It's calorie counting and my goal was to stay on it for 200 days. I'm on like day 146 now, and there's been some progress. Down two pant sizes, so whew. (Really, I mean: Yay! Much needed since child #5 is nearly three years old now, and I can't keep using the excuse that I just had a baby.) So eating the Krackel -- dang it! Those were wasted calories! It kills me.

Yeah, this analogy, it's pretty thin, I know. But I guess what I am thinking is that the junk we injest into our bodies and our minds -- we could be choosier. I don't mean I never want to read cotton candy for my soul again. It should just be cotton candy (which I love) and not Krackel (which I don't love.) If it's going to be a fun read, I should at least love it.

My sister (the funny one) has a mantra: life's too short to read books we don't want to read. She may be right. What I love is her corollary: Life's not too short to watch dumb movies.

Therefore, I'll take all my Krackel and Crunch on film in 90 minute increments while I'm eating something much better--movie popcorn, and I'll just save my reading time for stuff I really love.

Oh, and I guess my main goal is to write stuff that won't leave anyone (or at least most readers) feeling like, ew, why'd I read that?