Watching: Glutton for Punishment, Moetan, Chef At Large
Listening: Bird, Mikuni Shimokawa
I've heard of others for whom a whole story concept sprang full-grown from some dark recess of their mind's eye--much like Pallas Athena from Zeus' migraned noggin. Considering the amount of musing and forethought that normally accompanies anything I tend to write, I always harbored some doubts as to the veracity of those claims.
As of this past Thursday, I stand corrected.
I'm not even entirely sure how it came to be. I had just finished penning thank you letters to Judge and his staff and stepped into the shower when I began to reflect on the differences between the Anglo-American legal system--which could be dubbed "the common law"--and those of continental Europe and Latin America, dubbed by the authors of the above-mentioned book as "the civil law." Those thoughts brought me to a sidelong reflection on the War on Terror, the Cold War, and on war in general.
And then, the perfect idea for a short story sprang into my head. I blinked once, twice, in disbelief, then challenged myself, on the basis of this mere notion of a story, to compose the first line of the story, which normally, for me, is like using your fingernails to give yourself a haircut.
But in a matter of mere seconds, the opening line formed itself, and lo and behold: it was first-person unreliable, and in the present tense.
A small word on my writing style is, perhaps, incumbent at this juncture. I am firmly ensconced in the camp of third-person limited, and though I have ventured into first-person before, I was never quite comfortable with it. And I've never so much a penned a narrative line in the present tense.
I have, however, read numerous works of fiction (most of them in the contemporary genre) that thrive in first-person present tense. The short fiction of Jim Shepard (see Love and Hydrogen, a great anthology) is my prime example. As a result, I've come to recognize that for certain types of stories, first-person present tense is leagues superior than any other narrative form.
Though I've only managed to transcribe a page worth of narrative (along with a few quick jots of notes as to where I think the story will go), I'm certain such is the case here.
And then, here's the rub: I'm loathe to work on this short story any further at present, because I'm still in the midst of revising Book One. That story has too strong a grasp on me; and, like a jealous god, it will tolerate no false idols, at least until my prostrations have been performed to its satisfaction.
All this amounts to yet another reason for me to get off my duff, get the Book polished and as done as I can myself, and send it off to be read by others who can help me the rest of the way.
*
The orientation for Law Review was yesterday, and my biggest fear has been assuaged. Considering that only the top-eight students grade-wise, and up to the top-eight case notes from the write-on competition are invited to join (care to guess which one was my poison?), I had no doubt that the others would represent some (though certainly not all, or even, necessarily, the pinnacle) of the sharpest and most industrious members of our class; I did, however, have doubts as to whether any would possess equally sizable egos as well (which, considering that I would be spending a great deal of time among them for the remainder of my law school career, ranked up there with dining on crickets and cockroaches and bathing in industrial waste).
Given that our associate dean, when struggling to describe how our class had defined itself during the 1L year, did so by saying "you're all just really nice people," I should have known better.
A few individuals were a bit unfamiliar to me, though I did recognize them at least in passing. Others were more familiar, but their names escaped me (though, at least in one case, my name didn't escape them! Lucky for me I managed to divine her name before my virtually non-existent ability to retain names became embarrassing). But all were amicable, good-natured individuals who I can honestly say I look forward to working alongside, the 3L editorial board included.
Which leads me into a discovery I've made as I've ventured farther and farther down the career path of a lawyer. Though I'm sure the same can be said for virtually any profession under the sun, nothing seems to define the career and life of a lawyer more than smooth and amicable social interaction--the buzzword, of course, is "networking." While this can seem like a potential festering point for facetiousness to the jaded, my experience has been that the emphasis on such interaction results in the legal community being populated largely by some of the most friendly and friend-worthy individuals one is likely, in the course of every interaction, to meet.
Yes, the Editor-In-Chief (EIC hereafter) stressed what we all probably knew: Law Review is a hella lotta work, and it'll probably be the most work any of us will ever put into earning a single, solitary unit of credit (per semester, mind). He even said that we all will likely come to hate whatever topic we decide to write about (the previous EIC told that to him as a 2L, and though he thought things would be different, it eventually happened to him), and that tech editing is an arduous and mind-numbing pursuit. But one odd thing that I've learned about myself is that I tend to relish in the editing process--both with my own works, and those of others, as my time copyediting chapters of my Prof's book and editing and cite-checking student papers has shown me--more than any red-blooded human being should. If such grueling tasks will 1) make me a master of the stylistics and bluebooking (read: citation format) of the legal world, 2) a far more discerning and accurate editor of any piece of writing, including my fiction, and 3) allow me to get to know those fore-mentioned amicable individuals, and hopefully befriend them, then Law Review may be the best thing that will ever happen to me at law school.
In the meantime, it falls to me to ascertain the topic of my soon-to-be casenote. It's due, after all--being the first of many, many deadlines in my near future--on the 20th.
Given that our associate dean, when struggling to describe how our class had defined itself during the 1L year, did so by saying "you're all just really nice people," I should have known better.
A few individuals were a bit unfamiliar to me, though I did recognize them at least in passing. Others were more familiar, but their names escaped me (though, at least in one case, my name didn't escape them! Lucky for me I managed to divine her name before my virtually non-existent ability to retain names became embarrassing). But all were amicable, good-natured individuals who I can honestly say I look forward to working alongside, the 3L editorial board included.
Which leads me into a discovery I've made as I've ventured farther and farther down the career path of a lawyer. Though I'm sure the same can be said for virtually any profession under the sun, nothing seems to define the career and life of a lawyer more than smooth and amicable social interaction--the buzzword, of course, is "networking." While this can seem like a potential festering point for facetiousness to the jaded, my experience has been that the emphasis on such interaction results in the legal community being populated largely by some of the most friendly and friend-worthy individuals one is likely, in the course of every interaction, to meet.
Yes, the Editor-In-Chief (EIC hereafter) stressed what we all probably knew: Law Review is a hella lotta work, and it'll probably be the most work any of us will ever put into earning a single, solitary unit of credit (per semester, mind). He even said that we all will likely come to hate whatever topic we decide to write about (the previous EIC told that to him as a 2L, and though he thought things would be different, it eventually happened to him), and that tech editing is an arduous and mind-numbing pursuit. But one odd thing that I've learned about myself is that I tend to relish in the editing process--both with my own works, and those of others, as my time copyediting chapters of my Prof's book and editing and cite-checking student papers has shown me--more than any red-blooded human being should. If such grueling tasks will 1) make me a master of the stylistics and bluebooking (read: citation format) of the legal world, 2) a far more discerning and accurate editor of any piece of writing, including my fiction, and 3) allow me to get to know those fore-mentioned amicable individuals, and hopefully befriend them, then Law Review may be the best thing that will ever happen to me at law school.
In the meantime, it falls to me to ascertain the topic of my soon-to-be casenote. It's due, after all--being the first of many, many deadlines in my near future--on the 20th.
*
I went through 1L OCIs and Oral Argument wearing the same blue blazer and charcoal slacks that I wore to high school graduation, all the while surrounded by peers who had broken out their best single-tone suits for the occasion. I don't necessarily subscribe to the adage that the clothes make the man; but for someone as unsure of himself as I, wearing a suit that is at least as proportionally nice as those worn by my peers is a sizable contributor to my overall confidence--and in the lawyering world, confidence speaks bounds. I had, at the beginning of the summer, made it a goal to procure a suit that would serve me well in the (rapidly) upcoming 2L OCI session.
After looking around Macy's business attire department in vain, I ended up finding a proper-fitting black suit at Banana Republic (a store that has increasingly invaded my wardrobe over the past decade). Given my sore lack of vertical proportion, The coat and pants had to be hemmed and recut (by the same wonderful tailor/designer who helped to short the arms of my leather jacket). After an erstwhile fashion lesson from Judge, I recently went back and picked up a pair of french cuff shirts, along with my first pair of cuff links.
And along with a spiffy machined-stainless Seiko with gold markings (and a blue face!), and the most expensive pair of shoes I've ever owned, I'm now ready for OCIs. Because the true purpose of a properly tailored suit is not to attract attention to its wearer; its purpose is to keep the interviewer's attention focused on its wearer's credentials: his resume, his responses, his overall demeanor. The best suits are like the finest butlers--they tend to blend in with the walls, performing their duties flawlessly and without the notice of their masters (or those who hold their master's future in the palm of their hand).
After looking around Macy's business attire department in vain, I ended up finding a proper-fitting black suit at Banana Republic (a store that has increasingly invaded my wardrobe over the past decade). Given my sore lack of vertical proportion, The coat and pants had to be hemmed and recut (by the same wonderful tailor/designer who helped to short the arms of my leather jacket). After an erstwhile fashion lesson from Judge, I recently went back and picked up a pair of french cuff shirts, along with my first pair of cuff links.
And along with a spiffy machined-stainless Seiko with gold markings (and a blue face!), and the most expensive pair of shoes I've ever owned, I'm now ready for OCIs. Because the true purpose of a properly tailored suit is not to attract attention to its wearer; its purpose is to keep the interviewer's attention focused on its wearer's credentials: his resume, his responses, his overall demeanor. The best suits are like the finest butlers--they tend to blend in with the walls, performing their duties flawlessly and without the notice of their masters (or those who hold their master's future in the palm of their hand).
*
On the subject of fashion, I've noticed that my own casual preferences have begun to shift as of late, away from single-tone t-shirts to plaid linen or seersucker short-sleeve collar shirts. I gravitate toward them because they are just as cool (if not cooler) than an ordinary t-shirt, appear slightly more presentable and, by their very fabric, obviate the need for ironing. Along with the fact that switching eyeglass shops has allowed me to get the rimless frames (and transition lens) that my previous purveyor had, for reason now inscrutable, long denied me.
The aggregate result is, along with my generally lower weight and slightly slimmer waistline, I'm feeling more comfortable with my appearance than I have in a very, very long time.
The aggregate result is, along with my generally lower weight and slightly slimmer waistline, I'm feeling more comfortable with my appearance than I have in a very, very long time.
