» Fringe Blog – Writing on Film, Culture, and Things on the Fringe

It’s Not Personal, It’s Business

jelewis8 — Mon, 28 May 2007 18:27:42 +0000

As you know, I recently took the first step in what I hope will be a running stream of non-invasive and unobtrusive advertising that will help augment Fringe’s existence as a more networked, widely-read site.
There comes a point in every blogger’s life when he sells his soul in order to keep doing the thing he loves. I recently arrived at that point when I decided to allow advertising on my site. The truth is, I strove to keep this site advertisement free, and for four years I was able to do just that. I also made approximately seventy dollars over the course of that time, through donations and/or sales of DVDs. That’s not counting hosting and domain costs, cost of production of said DVDs, and other miscellaneous fees.
So less than $20 gross profit per year for a site that has almost 6,000 posts covering a wide range of topics, from Politics to Ireland to Movie Reviews to Fiction Writing. I’ve been trying and failing to attract a larger audience for this site, which I feel is a showcase for my writing and other creative endeavours, most of which could potentially be leveraged into a career at some point. But for whatever reason, Fringe has not caught on. Oh, it’s gotten some notice from a few people, but I don’t have the traffic that I really want. I started Fringe to attract people to my ideas and thoughts.
The research I’ve done suggests that as long as I continue to provide quality content, I shouldn’t piss off too many people. Whilst I do feel like a bit of a sellout, it’s not devoid of merit.
Thanks for your continued patience as I experiment with some new models for the site.

The Screening

jelewis8 — Fri, 17 Nov 2006 14:47:01 +0000

The great screening took place last night at my apartment, with a select group of discreet individuals whose cinematic opinions are valued and rated among the highest in the world. Their feedback will be going toward changing the film from a caramel lump into a sculpture of sugary delight. Which, if you haven’t guessed by now, implies the film isn’t perfect as is. Crazy. I know you thought it was pretty near it, given the hype and hoopla surrounding it. I admit I built it up pretty significantly. But it’s still caramel. Which is sweet and tasty and has all kinds of things going for it. But that said…
…Lemme ‘splain. This was an audience of Americans. English speakers. And the cut is so rough you could easily stab someone in the stomach with it and it would hurt. A lot.
Because it’s rough, y’see…
Anyway, there were certainly some universal technical issues that naturally abounded and contributed toward a sense of distance from the viewing experience. Though explained prior to viewing that such issues existed, not having the benefit of knowing exactly what those issues were, where they existed in the timeline, and how we intended to correct them, made some confusion mount. Then there’s the matter of consistency that threw some out of the story: consistency of performance, of lighting, of camerawork, etc. For others, the talkie nature of the film (inherently non-American in its approach) was its major weakness.
Finally, there’s simply cultural issues at play within the film that simply do not translate to Americans, and would not without some kind of explanative prologue or other hackneyed device. Not likely to happen. But simply put, this is a film that seems to appeal more to a foreign, and especially an Ethiopian audience. I knew that going in. Hopefully, with corrections for the things we can change, and a knowledge that we can’t inform every heart of our intentions, we simply need to focus our attentions on the primary audience, and hope that any other people (ie, Americans) will appreciate the romance angle.
There are other issues that I’ve left unspoken or sparse in detail simple for space and time savings, but the next few days will see me hard at work to spin and weave a new edit that will hopefully address the issues at conflict. And we’ll go from there. As one of the characters says in the film, “What God intends will be.”

Delusions of Fidelity

jelewis8 — Tue, 06 Jun 2006 00:46:07 +0000

Oh man oh man oh man! I’m excited for many different reasons, none of which have anything to do with my upcoming experiments for recording Skype interviews for future podcasts. This last time we had a fine time chatting with Tim Shabanowitz over in Boston Massachusetts about the weather and Serbian deli food, and we did it live, which worked well for those of us on either end. For the podcast audience, however, the audio quality did not overly impress. That’s because at the last minute I realized I had no way of recording both the incoming stream (what my sound card calls “What U Hear”, yes, with the vowel substituted for the pronoun, as if it took too long to read the entire three letters of “You”) and the incoming stream from the microphone. Forced to record the audio coming through the speakers with the microphone = Lowest. Quality. Ever.
So last night I did a bit of investigating. Turns out you can easily record both if you have a separate device or a piece of software that sadly, isn’t free. What? In this golden age of ecologically friendly vehicles and Paris Hilton and a China-compliant Google? You have to pay for software? What an outrage! Reminds me of UK artist Adam Neate who believes Art should be free. No word on whether that’s Art with a capital A or the lowerclass, lowercase, proletarian art. Annnnyway.
I believe I have a method of doing future interviews which will render a more positive listening experience for all. No, it does not involve black magic, voodoo chickens, or the cloning of Vincent Price, though it is diabolical in its simplicity.
No, I’m excited because I have a trip back to the East Coast for a few days coming up in a week and a half. My former roommate John Irwin is getting hitched, so I figured I’d come down for the free food and champagne. One can only hope they have champagne. Or at least a goodly amount of vodka. I’ve got a lot on my plate, though, so the next few weeks are going to be packed with interesting things that seem more important than they actually are.
See him adjust style sheets to effect change in his online portfolio! See him check his word count and beam in delight as the number 40,000 ticks over! See him wince as he misses yet another chance to ask the girl who came into the coffee shop three times today what her name is! She wanted me…
It feels like the last week and a half I’ve done nothing but design web sites and write paltry snippets in my novel. I feel good about it all, of course, but that’s because I’m satisfied with simple things. The pleasure of a day spent writing in the coffee shop is equatable to my love of hamburgers, which isn’t that obvious of a statement, unless you have read previously of my love for the burger. It’s intense, it is. So now you know.
And knowing is half the battle.

A Small Advertising Scheme

jelewis8 — Tue, 02 May 2006 17:34:31 +0000

I was offered some advertising revenue in exchange for five subdomains, which would point to advertisements for various services or products. Advertising on this site has always been a sore subject for me. I just don’t like it, I don’t want it, and I don’t want to subject my audience to it, however small or large a group you are. However, I’ve been trying to manuever Fringe slowly toward marketability on the web so that I am no longer coming up short on the hosting and bandwidth costs. As I’ve added features (the Fringecast being the major one of late), I have noticed a jump in usage. Eventually, if trends continue, this will result in a necessary increase in server space and bandwidth alottment.
As you may or may not know, I placed text link advertisements on the sidebar three months ago. Partially as an experiment to see how they would affect the user experience (I’m a user as well, so I considered myself a valid participant in the project) and to see if I might turn it into a sustainable source of site income. As advertising goes, it’s pretty subtle, not at all in your face or annoying, nor is it tricky. I have to give the advertiser points for not stipulating special placement or promotion requirements other than asking they be placed on the majority of pages on Fringe. This I was able to do quite easily, and the result has been a not unpleasant experience.
So when I was given this new advertising offer, which included doubling last quarter’s total bounty, I was most certainly tempted.
However, a little research drummed up two recent cases of this exact advertising model, which resulted in both sites getting hammered by the blogosphere (or parts anyway) regarding the ethics of said model, as well as Google manually removing the sites in question from its index. Without getting into the specifics of why it’s a slim shady methodology or the “how does this benefit the world?” style ponderings, the simple fact is, it does not meet my criteria for being an honest form of advertising, and though I was seriously tempted to go with it, I decided in the end not to agree to the new advertising scheme.
The nice thing is I will continue to host the old ads for at least another quarter, which will be a nice stipend for site costs. Fringecast has successfully driven up my traffic as hoped, though the increased bandwidth is something that will have to be addressed at some point. I’m confident that when the time comes to realign our current status, Fringe will have some potentially cool merch (“Moichendizing! Moichendizing!”) with which to tantalize your senses (and your wallet).
Without tooting my own horn, this has been a good opportunity to revive my old reasons for keeping this site up. I love doing it, and I love entertaining people. I think Fringe has found a niche audience and will continue to be successful as long as I stick to my principles. In the end, I want to keep Fringe as pure as I can, which is why I now renew my vow not to resort to flashy advertising methods to keep the site afloat. Whether the money comes or goes is a transient issue. What’s at stake is my soul (aka, Google pagerank).
In other news, I am going to be designing the website for the Conservatory, which as most of you know is my favourite coffee hangout spot. I am thrilled to be given the opportunity to create the web look and feel of the site, and am excited to work with AJ and the rest of the brew crew without having to make my own lattes. And I can legitimately write off my expenditures there now. Living the dream, baby.
New masthead, new Fringe tagline, and a new month. It’s the simple things. See ya tomorrow.

A Writer’s Most Valuable Lesson

jelewis8 — Thu, 06 Apr 2006 21:46:56 +0000

So often, one of a writer’s limitations is that tone of voice is disguised. You try to translate from the sounds you hear in your head, down to the rich nuances of your playful sarcasm, pauses, and even body language like eye rolls, to the screen, using a bunch of marvelously structured symbols from which we derive some kind of meaning. Or rather, our visual perception of them is then translated into meaning. But it’s shaky ground. All you have to convey the rich cinema playing in your head are those few strokes and negative space. It’s a challenge, and one I often fail to overcome. It’s a hazard. Put pen to paper, fingers to keys, and instantly the dragon rears its head, ready to take you on once again. And you can only think, Gee, didn’t I fight you yesterday?
Humour is often more difficult, simply because it’s so subjective, so not only are you attempting to overcome the narrow focus of the written word, but you are also doing battle with an audience with a wide range of humour requirements. Some people are satisfied with a simple clever metaphor. Others prefer a litany of expressive comedic moments, culled with a fine comb to make the jokes run smoothly. And even then it can be hit or miss.
The trick, I’ve learned, is not to try. Trying equals momentary success, followed by abyssmal decline into irrelevance. It’s funny, but as a writer, I can hear it when a piece begins to slide. The sentences become monochromatic in structure, untinted by interesting imagery or linguistic combinations. The flow also starts to die, becoming a trickle that winds through the rocky terrain of an underwhelming thesis concept. Transitions between sentences and paragraphs are dim, or nonexistent. The language falters. The piece dies a slow, blistering death, filled with detritus of battles won, but the war lost in its entirety. To read a piece like that is difficult, time-consuming, and burdensome for the reader. It becomes a chore rather than a joy. In the end, no one is happy, least of all yourself.
I find that when I sense my writing is becoming dull and uninspired, it is time to hang up the spurs for a bit. After two or three thousand word stints in my novel, I’ve often come to the point where I’m no longer enjoying the process, and it has become a matter of word count for me. That’s death right there. Those are times to act in prudence and stop, lest you write something that is incalculably of poor quality. One of the most valuable lessons a writer may learn is to know when to put pen on table and take a walk.
Said the 25 year old know-it-all.
I have some potentially good news on the way, which I will relay to you as soon as it is feasible and appropriate. Hopefully tomorrow I can post a review of The Inside Man, which I saw and liked immensely. It’s a film in which Spike Lee doesn’t display his racist tendencies, which is a nice change. I’ve got loads to do now, so I’ll quit whilst I’m ahead. See, lesson learned!
See you tomorrow.

pResentation of Red State

jelewis8 — Thu, 10 Nov 2005 22:35:15 +0000

It’s hard to self promote. At least, I find it to be. My own modesty notwithstanding, I rarely have the fortitude to continue the battle for hearts and minds once I’ve placed my finished sword on the table. As with any creation, without promotion of some kind, it will die a quick death. Infant Death Syndrome, so to speak (but please, take that metaphor only so far).
With Red State, as with most of my other work, I have pondered on how I might go about promoting it, getting the word out about it. It’s not an easy task. Sure, I have the internets, but how to use it (them?) properly and effectively to market what I’ve made? Perhaps more importantly, how do I market myself? That’s really what this is about, not to put too fine a point on it.
I’m feeling my way along an unknown path. I suppose I just have to wing it.
My experience showing Red State to an unbiased audience was rewarding and interesting, though not without its disappointments. The Firehouse Theatre is set in an old section of Richmond, Virginia, and, as the name implies, was once a firehouse. Now used mostly for theatrical productions, the theatre allows Project Resolution the use of the facility for one night every month to show fifteen short films by local and (in my case) not-so-local filmmakers.
I love my family and my friends, but it is hard to gauge the reactions they have to your work–they’re put in a difficult position of wanting to be constructive, but also wanting to like the work. This is why I appreciate an audience who doesn’t know you. The more likely they are to be totally honest and upfront about what you’ve created–what works, what doesn’t, and the overall feel of the presentation.
Without betraying my disappointment too much, I will say that the loss of 90% of the audience before the showing of Red State (it was the last film of the evening, and rather late) was somewhat disheartening. On the flip side, it was the hardcore film geeks that stayed behind, and I suppose I can count it a blessing that I was spared proletarian questions after the showing.
Red State, I was happy to note, garnered a few laughs in the right places, which I was most concerned about. Humour is tough to make work right, and I had laced the movie with enough subtle humour that I didn’t expect everyone to get everything. But the humour seemed to work, and I was glad that the audience caught some of the references I was shooting for.
After the showing I got to go up for about fifteen minutes and field questions from the audience. The first comment I received was a complaint about the gratuitousness of the initial car sequence, which runs a little over a minute long. I acknowledged that perhaps it could be cut down a bit, but that it was partially due to the jokes that play over the radio, and partially to show off my brother James’ car that the scene runs as long as it does. There was a complaint about there not being enough zombies in the film. True. But when I explained that it was a very guerilla shoot and we didn’t have the time to do everything we would have liked to do, it spawned a question about how long it took to shoot.
“Two days,” I replied. This seemed to impress everyone enough that the rest of the questions and comments were highly supportive, including one viewer who felt that my career in visual effects should be a no-brainer, if I hadn’t thought of it before.
Overall, I am grateful that it turned out as well as it has. I am pursuing some visual effects/editing work as a result of this film, and have hope that it’s simply the beginning of something great.

Olympic Writing

jelewis8 — Wed, 09 Nov 2005 19:25:46 +0000

You don’t know what kind of pressure it is to always have something witty and worth reading. It’s akin to the Olympics, which has no earthly reason for existing other than sponsor profits. If you’re an Olympic athlete, you automatically have about ten times the normal amount of air sitting on your chest, because of all the pressure of performing, not only in front of a live audience and the television cameras, but in opposition to some imagined personal failure. Let’s face it, if you’ve made it to the Olympics, you’ve already breached that wall of suckitude that “normal” athletes haven’t yet hurdled.
Somehow, I was going to relate that to writing. Oh yes. Writing a daily (or semi-daily) blog is like being in the Olympics in the sense that you have to perform, even if you’re sick or have nothing to say. When you miss out on a blog post, it’s like training for years, spending money for gear and a plane ticket, flying out to the Olympic fields, and then staying in your hotel room the day of your event. I mean, it’s pretty seriously lame.
But it’s not surprising to undergo blog fatigue. It does happen, like cabin fever or schoolyard blues, or even the summer doldrums. Thankfully, it passes by after a week or so.
I’m coming on the tail end of blog fatigue. Actually, it’s more of creative fatigue. It saps everything you’ve got in the creative department. I haven’t not been writing, I just haven’t posted any of it online. Which is probably for the best. Most of it is crap.
I’m leaving the hotel right now. Got this big event, and I’ve spent all this money…might as well compete.
More later.

Big Day For Progeny

jelewis8 — Mon, 18 Apr 2005 17:16:36 +0000

It’s over! The big event always happens sooner than you think, ends more quickly than you’d wish, and seems a distant memory so soon afterward. It’s the nature of the relativity of time to compress just after a moment heralded by great anticipation has passed.
Progeny Festival was a huge success this year. The turnout was much higher than previous years, and the level of quality in the films was entirely a notch above anything else that has ever played at the last two festivals.
I’m never quite aware of what goes on around me at these kinds of events. Maybe it’s because I have a vested interest in seeing a positive outcome, not only for myself, but for the audience and the coordinators. So much can go wrong, yet the hardest work must be expended to ensure success. I think half my consciousness during these times is spent willing everything to go smoothly.
Nevertheless, it was a fun time. A full day of “motion pictures” (no *actual* film this year, all mini-DV) made by aspiring filmmakers around the area (one came from as far away as New York). My mom and a couple of out-of-town friends made the trip, which was a boon of happiness for me.
I was surprised to receive the “Best Director” award, as there were a number of films which I thought were equal in effort and accomplishment to my own. Nevertheless, an honour, and one I won’t mind touting on my resume.

RotK

jelewis8 — Wed, 03 Dec 2003 22:17:46 +0000

Someone saw a pre-release version of the Return of the King and now I am filled with envy of a cinematic nature. He’s got small picks and a few larger criticisms, but on the whole seems to think it the best effort of the trilogy of movies.

The audience was made up of jaded film critics and theater owners, and had only about 50 people in attendance. But spontaneous applause and cheering broke out three times and I myself got misty in more than one place. That might be the film just reminding me of the great scene in the novel, but I still give Jackson some props for getting the emotions right.

Score!