Short Stories as Lit-Cred

I have been reading and listening a lot about how to get more lit-cred as a writer. As you know, I've been writing a novel for the past 2.5 years. But now, apparently short stories is one of the main avenues to build credibility as a writer and to publish a novel.

It wasn't too long ago when I was hearing that short stories were dead. Everyone was ready to nail the coffin shut, but they have been revived at the last minute. I am not sure why, but all I know is that I need to write them. I am not much of a short story reader. I do have a couple anthologies on my Paperwhite, one of Lovecraft's stories and the other of Weird stories from the past 100 years called The Weird: A Compendium of Strange and Dark Stories. They are massive tomes and I only read one or two between novels. So, short stories do not come naturally to me. Funny enough, when reading short stories, I prefer short short stories. Long short stories tend to become tedious for me; it's either short shorts or epic novels.  

Publishers/Agents look for what you have already published when deciding to publish/represent your novel, and short stories are what they tend to look for now. If you have a few short stories professionally published (paid $0.05 or up per word), then that bodes well. I have no stories published yet. I wrote one story that I am now submitting to the appropriate magazines. I got rejected once, as expected, and still waiting to hear from the next one I submitted to. if I get rejected from that, I'll look it over, do some revisions, and send it to another zine until I get it published. I am brainstorming another short now, which I will also send off as well.

It is a bit overwhelming as an unpublished writer. Now I have to worry about writing short stories and getting them published while working on my novel. It's not easy switching from big ideas that only  fit in novel form to concise micro plots for short stories. I know many writers do this and hopefully I will end up getting used to writing in both forms. My predicament fits that cliché; "outside the comfort zone". So, I'm taking this as a challenge to become a more well-rounded writer.

Blessing of a Medieval Empress

I took this photo just down the street from my apartment. The statue is of a medieval Holy Roman Empress, I think of the 9th century. I don't remember her name. I'm not sure why she is even there (In front of a central city university). I walk by her almost every day and wonder how the actual empress would think of an effigy of her being in the middle of a far future megalopolis in an area of the world that she may never have heard of.

I took this image as I was on one of my solo photo walks around the neighbourhood. I thought how it would look like with the Park Tower in the background. I like juxtaposition quite a bit - I think it is very urban. It turned out  looking as if she is blessing or bestowing some honor on the city itself. - knighting Tokyo for having the wherewithal and brashness as to become the largest metropolis in the world. She is also a reminder to the modern Sir/Dame Tokyo that history is always around and to never forget it. Sometimes I think Tokyo needs to be reminded of its humble beginnings and the important events that shaped it. For a centuries-old city, it doesn't like to show its age very much.

Balancing Literary and Genre

While running through my the first two parts of my novel's first draft, I've been thinking a lot about how to balance literary aspects of a story (very generally, character development over plot/setting) and those of genre (very generally, plot/setting over character). Personally, if the setting does not interest me, then I am not really that interested in the characters. I think I am rare in feeling this. Most people are more character or plot based. I do share the literary side by not really being too bothered if there is not an obvious in-your-face plot or, on the other extreme, if the plot is complex and convoluted.

Needless to say, setting is extremely important to me as a reader and writer. This does not mean that every detail of a place should be meticulously described. It is more about the immersed feeling the reader gets out of the general surroundings . That's what excites me as a reader. I love Frank Herbert's "Dune" and China Miéville's "Perdido Street Station" so much because of this. The universes they created are just so encompassing and engrossing and the characters are constantly dealing with them either directly (the actual natural elements) or culturally (political systems resulting from those elements). This is not to say that these works had no character development. Of course they did, but this development didn't get in the way of the setting.

To me, characters are tools to bring out the shear complexity, immensity, weirdness of the setting; not the other way round. Is that wrong? No, it's not wrong, but it is not right to force others - my readers -  to love setting as much as I do. It is not just me I'm writing for, at least I hope that won't be the case. I guess this is what every writing worries about; how to balance both or all three in a story that every one will love and enjoy. No small task, especially when every writer naturally has his/her own preferred focal point.

Revising the Metro Scenes

I decided to do a bit of quick revision to the Metro Scenes on the site. I wrote most of them about 2.5 or 3 years ago, so they are do for a bit of touch up. As with everything, I am going slowly. I revised "Scarred", "On the Shores of the Blue Pearl", and "A Place to Wear Your Hair and Skin" so far. What started me revising is that I plan on posting these Metro Scenes on my Wattpad account and on Inkubate.com (which is just for publishers and agents so not a public site). I also wanted to stay in touch with Gwij. I am still trudging along with my other novel and do not want to forget about the world of Gwij, so this is another reason for the revisions.

Thinking Outloud (in Text) on Current Revising Process

A couple months ago I finally mustered up the courage to give my very rough novel (the first part of it so far) to my friend and my first alpha reader. I was quite nervous since it was the first time that someone other than myself was to read what spewed out of my imagination. It took a while for us to finally get together and discuss his thoughts on what I had given him, but we finally did a few weeks back. It turned out to be extremely helpful. I asked him who his favourite characters were, what was confusing, what he wanted to see happen in the next installment, and if there was just anything generally silly about any of it.

So, now I am taking his comments and our discussions and revising act 1 of the novel. I am ending up making quite major revisions, particularly concerning the order of scenes and chapters. I am playing with the idea of alternating the two main characters' and their distinct worlds for most of this act (before they merge later in the novel), as my alpha reader and I discussed. It's quite challenging considering I have to keep very well in mind the time sequence and that I have more many more scenes of one than the other.  So, I came to the conclusion that it won't be a strict alternation - only when it fits with the progression I guess. It turns out that I found I needed to add a few more scenes to flesh out a character and put in more hints about the world I'm throwing the reader into, making a very long novel even longer. Currently, it is a tome of 260,000 words.  Is that too long?

The length of my novel had been on my mind from almost the beginning, especially when hearing that most novels are about 100,000 words less than this. Personally, I prefer reading long novels, but I think that is not the norm. The "market" likes shorter novels from what I hear, particularly from first time authors. I just have to tell myself that there are not really rules and just to not worry about the length. But I do have to keep in the back of my mind that reducing the word count is better than increasing it at this point. I still have two-thirds of the novel to revise and get feedback on, so the size will definitely fluctuate at least a few more times.

Rigid Grids or Chaotic Curves?

Urban layouts have been on my mind lately. Last month I had to fly up north to Sapporo for work every weekend. Sapporo is a relatively new city. The cool brisk island of Hokkaido, where Sapporo reigns supreme, was only mass-settled by Japanese a little over 150 years ago. Becuse of its recent birth (1868), Sapporo is laid out in grid style, very much different from Tokyo. Sapporo is like a mini Manhattan with right-angled intersections and square blocks. It was quite easy to get around and the streets and sidewalks were wide and roomy. However, there is something a bit sterile about that. There are no real suprises lurking around a hidden corner. Everything is out in the open.

Downtown Sapporo

Tokyo is the on the other extreme. It is rare to find yourself at an intersection with four right-angled corners. You never know what is only a few meters ahead due to the curves and twists of the streets. Anyone trying to find an address knows how frustrating it is here. There are very few streets with names. Most streets do not have names or even labeled. Most people go by landmarks and building names instead.

Central Tokyo

The first major city I lived in was Boston. Boston is like Tokyo, very curvy and choatic layout. The only realy grid section of the city is Back Bay, which was was carved out of the marshy banks of the Charles River estuary later in the city's history.  Bascially, Boston is more rooted in European urban planning than American. Becaue of my experience in such cities, I prefer the chaotic curves of Boston and Tokyo to the rigid grids of Sapporo and Manhattan. These cities are more oganic and just nuts. Strict urban planning was not on the minds of the early dwellers of Tokyo or Boston. They just let the city grow the way it wanted to. Kind of like hippy parents. Though, every once in a while, it is nice to visit a city that had a strict upbringing and to actually know where one is heading and what is up coming up a few block away.

Cities and Genitalia

Tokyo Sky Tree (half complete)Yes, it is a bit of a cliché to say that many skyscrapters are phallic or those who dreamed them up have some sort of phallic issue; be it overcompensation or just plain appreciation. What got me thinking about this, again, was the recent opening of the Tokyo Sky Tree (photo below only when half complete), the tallest "tower" in the world; as of this week anyway. It is 634 meters high, about twice as high as its now diminuitive father, the original Tokyo Tower. I have the advantage of being able to see both from my apt.

Tokyo Sky Tree (half complete)

Yes, it is a bit of a cliché to say that many skyscrapters are phallic or those who dreamed them up have some sort of phallic issue; be it overcompensation or just plain appreciation. What got me thinking about this, again, was the recent opening of the Tokyo Sky Tree (photo on left only when half complete), the tallest "tower" in the world; as of this week anyway. It is 634 meters high, about twice as high as its now diminuitive father, the original Tokyo Tower. I have the advantage of being able to see both from my apt.

It's straight and erect, quite phallic, just like most tall buildings/structures here in Tokyo and around the world. Anyone who knows me knows that I am a fan of skyscrapers and a fan of the penis. Both are beautiful things, so I do not see a problem with all the phallic worship 'going up' around me. The penis should be celebrated, so why not in the form of scrapers. Yes, many of the people who fund/create these structures are men, and probably a large majority of them are not gay, so it just gets me to wondering why are they so fascinated with the penis? I get why gays, like myself are. We are attracted to the set of organs. But its a bit more complicated with straight men who insist of projecting their phallic-ness onto the skyline. I guess there's a difference in the 'need' to create such architecture and the 'appreciation' of looking at the finished product. I have no passion to go out and earn my millions just to build the next tallest tower or office/residential building; thus, an extension of my penis. But I do wait in anticiapation for that one to appear on Tokyo's or any other city's studded portrait.

I have noticed something else in recent scraper design. A more vaginal approach is now making headways into the penile-dominated cityscape. Traditionally, female-inspired buildings have been much lower, undulating, and curvy. But now such buildings are reaching for the sky as if saying to their phallic bretheren that they can be just as impressive on the vertical. Two buildings come to mind here in Tokyo - the Mode Gakuen "Cocoon" tower and the Mori Tower.

ThMode Gakuen "Cocoon" Towere Mode Gakuen (a fashion school) "Cocoon" tower (photo to the left) is just down the street from where I live. In fact, I can see the rounded meshed pinnacle from my apt. window. It is special becuase it is quite hermaphroditic. People see both types of genitalia displayed. It is very phallic since it is more round and comes to a rounded summit (more realistically phallic), but it is obviously very vaginal with oval indentations forming a sylized vagina down the sides. People either love it or hate it. It would be interesting to find out the sexual demographics of who actually like it and who don't.

Mode Gakuen "Cocoon" Tower

The Mode Gakuen (a fashion school) "Cocoon" tower (photo to the left) is just down the street from where I live. In fact, I can see the rounded meshed pinnacle from my apt. window. It is special becuase it is quite hermaphroditic. People see both types of genitalia displayed. It is very phallic since it is more round and comes to a rounded summit (more realistically phallic), but it is obviously very vaginal with oval indentations forming a sylized vagina down the sides. People either love it or hate it. It would be interesting to find out the sexual demographics of who actually like it and who don't.

The Mori Tower (sorry, no close-up photo of this) is the massive jewel of the up-scale Roppongi Hills complex. I can also see this building from my apt, but it is a bit farther away. It is also curvy with rather vaginal charactistics. It is almost cylindrical with bulbous curves, making it quite femine. But it is also very tall and menacingly thick; which could be either power feminine or power masculine.

Now, I know what you're thinking; that I would scream 'ewwww' at the site of something like the Cocoon tower. But you would be mistaken. I think it is one of the coolest buildings in Tokyo. I appreciate the feminine form in achitecture. It is something different to the bit tired phallic showcase. The curves and V-like plunges of buildings like the Cocoon and Mori towers are a welcome change to the harsh angles and points to the traditional, and not all that realistic, phallic constructions. I think the more "feminie" forms are actually more realistically masculine than the old-school totems to the penis such as the Sky Tree and Tokyo Tower. I think theirs plenty of room for phallic, vaginal, and a combination of both (the best kind in my opinion) to populate the Tokyo skyline. The more the better!

The Beauty of Decay

Urban decay is one of my favorite photographic memes. Something almost falling apart due to age and environment gives a sense of story to a city. Like everything else in a city, decay is also ever changing. But decaying buildings are unique in that they have a longer story to tell. I feel it is important to capture these structural stories before they come to their final chapter and a totally new narrative takes its place.
While taking a photo walk around my extended neighborhood I stumbled upon this and other striking examples of urban decay. The entire section of this street was populated with such "unbeautiful" history. One of the more interesting things about this small population of decay was that it was directly facing Shinjuku Gyoen, the closest thing Tokyo has of a botanical garden. In pretty much any other city, this would be prime real-estate with out-of-control rent and glistening brand-new high rises. But not here. Rust and weathered planks are still very much the architectural norm.
An amazing discovery was that these shabby storytellers are still in use. Just next door in an equally decayed rusted over building, a resident on the ground floor was inside watching T.V. They are still holding on and have many more stories to tell. I just don't know why they are really still there. They don't seem to have any national historical significance. I wonder what is stopping the juggernaut of progress in its tracks, literally, on this little section of street. It is just one of the many stories they have but are keeping quite about, at least for now. Maybe there is something to them that the city will not touch them. Who lives in them? How are they stopping the glass and shimmering steel progress?

Urban decay is one of my favorite photographic memes. Something almost falling apart due to age and environment gives a sense of story to a city. Like everything else in a city, decay is also ever changing. But decaying buildings are unique in that they have a longer story to tell. I feel it is important to capture these structural stories before they come to their final chapter and a totally new narrative takes its place.
While taking a photo walk around my extended neighborhood I stumbled upon this and other striking examples of urban decay. The entire section of this street was populated with such "unbeautiful" history. One of the more interesting things about this small population of decay was that it was directly facing Shinjuku Gyoen, the closest thing Tokyo has of a botanical garden. In pretty much any other city, this would be prime real-estate with out-of-control rent and glistening brand-new high rises. But not here. Rust and weathered planks are still very much the architectural norm.
An amazing discovery was that these shabby storytellers are still in use. Just next door in an equally decayed rusted over building, a resident on the ground floor was inside watching T.V. They are still holding on and have many more stories to tell. I just don't know why they are really still there. They don't seem to have any national historical significance. I wonder what is stopping the juggernaut of progress in its tracks, literally, on this little section of street. It is just one of the many stories they have but are keeping quite about, at least for now. Maybe there is something to them that the city will not touch them. Who lives in them? How are they stopping the glass and shimmering steel progress?

Whatever the reason, I am glad such decay exists. But I am also glad that the decay will not last; not in the same place anyway. A city's life essence is change. Some day, this old shack will no longer be around. But there will be several others like it in other parts of the metropolis. Everything gleaming with newness will eventually morph into beautiful decay.

Alien Moon over Tokyo

I was just sitting here thinking of what to write for this blog post (I am trying to write something once a week), when I looked out of my window and saw a manacing glowing, fuzzy full moon rising above the city. It slowly appeared just above the skyscrapers off in the distance hidden by wisps of clouds. Just a few seconds later it was in its full glory off in its own space lording over it's metro subject.

I was just sitting here thinking of what to write for this blog post (I am trying to write something once a week), when I looked out of my window and saw a manacing glowing, fuzzy full moon rising above the city. It slowly appeared just above the skyscrapers off in the distance hidden by wisps of clouds. Just a few seconds later it was in its full glory off in its own space lording over it's metro subject.

I had to quickly get my camera out (my iPhone just wouldn't have cut it) and attempt to capture it before it disappeared, which it speedily did. But I captured perhaps a couple good shots. The last few moments of the Alien Moon was the most spectacular. It all but moved up into the clouds with just the orange rays shooting down onto the city, just like a spaceship trying to escape the gravitational greediness of Earth by blasting out as much power as possible. The Alien Moon is now gone. What perfect timing. I will add a photo to this post when I put it through the post-processing ringer. Hopefully there will be a usable shot.

The Weird is Real and Wonderfully Frustrating

I came across an transcript of an interview with China Miéville, one of my literary idols, the other day on weirdfictionreview.com and found the following quote from him. Click on the 'interview' link above to go read the full inteview.

"Weird tra­di­tion is to do with the sense of the numi­nous, whether in a hor­rif­ic iter­a­tion (or, more occa­sion­al­ly, a kind of joy­ous one), as being com­plete­ly embed­ded in the every­day, rather than an intru­sion. To that extent the Weird to me is about the sense that real­i­ty is always Weird."

This rang very true to me. It is not a stretch to belive that the reality in which we find ourselves is quite truly weird. Weird is rather subjective. What is weird to you may be normal or rather humdrum to me and vice verse. In Weird fiction, however, the Weird is really weird. It viscerally jolts us into another almost incomprehensible reality. This is one of the reasons I enjoy reading Weird fiction that is really werid, to me in this reality, but not so much to the characters in that story. I enjoy being thrown into this other world/culture and trying to figure it all out right away only to be frustrated in not being able to do so. The people, things, settings, and yes monsters, are all real for those minutes or hours we focus our eyes on the printed or electronic words in front of us. We need to acclimate ourselves before tyring to understand it. We just need to enjoy the ride in the hope that the Weird will become a part of our reality.

My goal is to frustrate the reader. This is difficult becau se an author does not want to frustrate the reader too much that s/he gives up and and tosses the book out the window or deletes it from their device. I wanted to to that on more than one occassion. Frustrating the reader does not mean making the story so incomprehenible that it angers him/her. The reader does not want to be totally fulfilled, at least I don't. If he/she is, then what's the point of throwing her/him into that weird world. If everything is knowable right from the start, then it really isn't Weird, it it? Miéville addressed this 'preferred' frustration later in the same interview concerning monsters. I leave you with it so you can digest the monstrosity of it all.

"I’m tempted to say that part of the job a monster can do best is refuse to satisfy me, completely—which is good, because what I want for satisfaction is a kind of satiation, which usually translates into too much information, into overkill, into shining a light where a light has no business shining. In other words, the frustration that I feel at not understanding everything about a monster (indeed the weird, indeed anything fantastic) is both a sign that I am not fully satisfied and the only way of doing this with anything approaching success, I imagine. I want to know everything, but I don’t want that desire to be fulfilled. Unsatisfy me, frustrate me, I beg you, teratologists and others. The point is, as all my favourite writers and artists and musicians and whatever know, I cannot be trusted."

First Draft Done! (well, definitely by tomorrow)

Finally, finally, finally! I think I have finished the first draft of my novel. It took about 1 year and 5 months, but I got there. I started it as part of National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) back on 1 November 2010. I decided to continue with the fledging story and finish it.

Now, I have to revise, revise, and revise some more, which may taken even longer than 1 year 5 months. I need to now make it readabe and flesh out the story. I need to connect the dots more and, more importantly, cut a lot. The word count now is about 255,000, which may be too long for a first novel. But I don't know. I love delving into in a meaty novel myself. I guess I just have to wait until the end of the revison process(es) to see how long it really wants to be.

One major thing I learned was that I am what is called a "discovery writer", which means I just make it up as I go along. This can and was quite frustrating since I don't know where I'm heading. I did make an outline, a couple actually, but I quickly veered from their well intentioned advice. So, I have no choice in the matter really. However, another thing I learned was that it is very important to know the ending before discovering the way to it! that was the most frustrating thing about this first stage in writing this novel, which by the way still does not have a title I'm completely happy with. I was near the end 5 months ago (orginal first draft goal was one year from start of the story - 31 Oct 2011), but it took me these 5 months to just figure out how the initial end would end up being. I know the ending will eventually change, but I really needed 'an ending' in order to really finish.

After a few touch ups here and there in the last scenes and maybe adding on an epilogue-ish scene to the very end during my Sunday morning café writing tomorrow, it is onward-ho to the next stage of revisions.

Nooks and Crannies of Cities

I was looking through some of my urban photos and came across this one I took last year while on a walk through my neighbourhood of Yoyogi in Tokyo. I love exploring mass public places as well as these often hidden or sped-past nooks and crannies. I just happened to look down these little lane and though the layout would look good as a photo. The colours intrigued me, particularly the grungy yellow house on the verge of becoming dilapidated with the vibrant green ivy creeping up and around as if telling the neighboring houses "you're next -but don't be scared". The ivy drew my eye to the not as grungy blue-grey house next door. I think it was just after a rain, so everything was that more vibrant. The little lane was tranquil. One would never suspect that Yoyogi train and subway station was just a couple hundred meters away if that.
Because of the well ordered chaos that is Tokyo, there are thousand - perhaps even millions - of these nooks and crannies that an equal number of people just walk, bike, or drive past or speed through the city's intestine tunnels underneath without even knowing about these little urban gems. Granted most are pretty neglected, but that's what makes them so interesting. Why are they like that? What happened there and when? Does anyone even live or work there? In this photo's case, I'm sure people live on this lane. It is just grungy enough to looked lived in. It is quite pretty; the closeness of the houses, the bikes parked outside, and the colours all tell a story in which this little almost hidden lane still has a lot of use left.

Combining Passions

The problem with having divergent passions is that it is hard to focus on one for any good length of time. Obviously, writing and digital photography are two of my passions, but another is wine. My partner and I started getting into this wondrous world in 2009, and it has grown, especially for me. We ended up getting a wine cellar (refrigeration unit specifically for storing wine) and have collected a nice bunch of fine wine over the past three years. We went to Burgundy for our 10th anniversary in 2010 and took a wonderful wine tasting/education tour run by a very sweet british couple you live in the area. Our appreciation of the intricacies of wine from growing to drinking dramatically increased. So much so, that I signed up for a 'Master Wine Class' at an American university's Tokyo campus.
So, I was thinking how to combine the two. Writing weird fiction and wine don't make an obvious pairing like a sink-your-teeth-into Syrah from Hermitage and a thick juicy mega portobello mushroom 'steak' (I'm vegetarian, so it comes closest to a beef steak). But it just takes a bit of imagination and the two can work. Anything can work when 'weird' is the keyword.
I was thinking about some of the names of the grapes (varietals) used in whine. There are hundreds actually. Some of them stir up bizarre images in my mind. For example, the grape 'Mourvedre' just sounds so cool and menacing. I got to thinking what kind of micro story I could build around that name and/or grape. There are so many of these names that just sound, well, weird to an English speaker. Thankfully England was never a big producer of wine back when wine making was young, so we have all these French, Spanish, Italian, Hungarian, Greek, Croatian, etc.. names to play with. So this may become a new section under 'Urbanweird Cities' in the very near future.

The problem with having divergent passions is that it is hard to focus on one for any good length of time. Obviously, writing and digital photography are two of my passions, but another is wine. My partner and I started getting into this wondrous world in 2009, and it has grown, especially for me. We ended up getting a wine cellar (refrigeration unit specifically for storing wine) and have collected a nice bunch of fine wine over the past three years. We went to Burgundy for our 10th anniversary in 2010 and took a wonderful wine tasting/education tour run by a very sweet british couple you live in the area. Our appreciation of the intricacies of wine from growing to drinking dramatically increased. So much so, that I signed up for a 'Master Wine Class' at an American university's Tokyo campus.
So, I was thinking how to combine the two. Writing weird fiction and wine don't make an obvious pairing like a sink-your-teeth-into Syrah from Hermitage and a thick juicy mega portobello mushroom 'steak' (I'm vegetarian, so it comes closest to a beef steak). But it just takes a bit of imagination and the two can work. Anything can work when 'weird' is the keyword.
I was thinking about some of the names of the grapes (varietals) used in whine. There are hundreds actually. Some of them stir up bizarre images in my mind. For example, the grape 'Mourvedre' just sounds so cool and menacing. I got to thinking what kind of micro story I could build around that name and/or grape. There are so many of these names that just sound, well, weird to an English speaker. Thankfully England was never a big producer of wine back when wine making was young, so we have all these French, Spanish, Italian, Hungarian, Greek, Croatian, etc.. names to play with. So this may become a new section under 'Urbanweird Cities' in the very near future.

FYI, the vineyard in the photo is in the village of Vosne Romanee (Burgundy) and the grapes are Pinot Noir.

Looking Out the Window 7:58pm 10 Jan '12

Sitting on a cushion next to my living room window looking out onto the Tokyo skyline at night; using a foot stool as my desk.

Sitting on a cushion next to my living room window looking out onto the Tokyo skyline at night; using a foot stool as my desk.

What I see - thousands of lights; most of which are signs (ranging from off white to almost green) of human life behind similar glass performing equally varied acts. Other lights flashing red warning planes not to fly too low, yellow telling drivers to slow down because there's road work ahead, and bright almost burning white exposing the way for man and machine alike.

What I see - the Shuto elevated expressway slithering below around my building disappearing and reappearing as it passes by other sentinals of vertical space. Pairs of red and white in a continuous jousting competition with neither waring color gaining the upper hand.

What I see - The grande Dames of the city, the sckycrapers. The Mori Tower standing cocky practically ever floor lit with wheeling and dealing going on wthin. The massive bulging cylinder a candle that never melts. The now 'old' Tokyo Tower illuminating it's various orange hues out towards the city it ruled over for a half a century. It's much taller and younger sibling farther north and east just about ready to outshine it's aging brother, just waiting for the right moment; teasing with just the faintest of white pulsar-like flashes.

What I see - The massive black swath of Yoyogi Park; no light escaping or entering it. A black hole in the middle of the city galaxy. Nighly resting spot for the urban midnight citizenry of crows and stray cats. the serpentine Shuto always ready to strangle the dark land or protect it against the garish urban cosmos waiting to fill that silent void.

What I see - a gargatuan being incessantly creating stories to entertain itself.

Bitch Rant Against "family" and Support for Vertical Cities

I felt comforted reading an article in the latest (December 2011) National Geographic called "The City Solution". It discussed findings on how cites are actually better for the environment and people than living in rural areas, especially cities that are dense and compact (vertical). There are stats suggesting that cities are actually greener than small towns - with a few exceptions, densely populated cities have a smaller carbon footprint.

I have always believed that living in vertical cities rather than small towns or horizontal cities (sorry LA) was better for people and the environment. Why infest the beautiful countryside? We can live vertically in dense cities with large green urban spaces (which is a must) and leave the rest of the earth to everything else. Cities just have to be careful of not sprawling outwards creating the horror of all horrors - suburbs!! Look at LA; it is just one big sprawl. The more vertical a city, the more a city it is. A conglomeration of reclusive enclaves with just a small tuft of an actual city in the middle cannot really be a city. There is no identity. One would just identify with the suburb in which they live. I still have hope for LA. I have heard it is trying to revitalize itself to make it more of a city than just a few corporate HQs where no one actually lives - something I like to term a faux city.

I never understood wanting to own a house, or for that matter having a family (meaning - gasp! children). I grew up in a house in a very small town. I guess not buying into the whole automaton-like thinking of "must get married in order to procreate resulting in a need to make an inappropriate amount of room for way over-empasized things called children". My image of suburbs are large swaths of land overrun by new families (meaning the traditional narrow heterosexist definition of a group of people living together that MUST consist of their offspring) who think they are somehow special because the parents had sex, which, duh, leads to babies (thank whatever that my kind of sex does not!). Nothing really awe inspiring about this. Been happening for hundreds of millions of years with countless other species. You don't see those other species posting picures of their wrinkly newborns all over the Internet forcing the rest of us to sretch out a painful fake smile and ooh and ahh over something that looks exactly like every other one of its kind. Another image is the almost military march of strollers blocking the sidewalks or other lesser beings (those of us so unfortunate to have or not want children and strollers as big as cars) patroling the quiet sububan streets making sure everything is right for their oh-so-special offspring - Again, hundreds of millions of years people!

Of course cities are full of these "look at me and my kids and make every effort to bend to our, especially, our precious children's, every wish" types. But here in the vertical city, I have more of a right and feel safer in giving them the dirtiest look I can muster - and I can muster a pretty scathing dirty look - when they take up two-thirds of the elevator or sidewalk with one ridiculous Hummer-sized stroller. Just carry your precious cargo becuase they are only precious to you! Why make the rest of us suffer for something that happens ALL THE TIME (way too much in fact) and that we had nothing to do with? Sometimes I just want to say, "This is my city. Go out into the "family-friendly" burbs or towns and infest the rest of the Earth." But then, would I really wish that upon the earth? So, I say, with grinding teeth, welcome traditonal families to the vertical city, but keep your precious ones (to you) quiet, keep them on a leash, and don't even think of driving those SUV strollers on my streets or bulldozing your way into my elevators!

Whew! this is what happens when you just start writing and let your fed-up mind take control - cities-suburbs-annoying families-frustration. My appologies...well, not really.

Can Tokyo be "backed-up"?

I read an article over at theatlanticcities.com about Japan government's plan to "back up" Tokyo in an event of a natural disastor (earthquake, tsunami) detroying the megalopolis and capital. It's quite an entertaining read and shows the complete out-of-touchness and lack of imagination the government possesses. It's a plan just to move the "captital" aspect of Tokyo to a new city near Osaka on the site of an unused airport. The working name for this city, which will only support about 200,000 workers and 50,000 inhabitants (Tokyo has a metropolitan population of over 30 million), is the wonderfully worded "Integrated Resort, Tourism, Business and Backup City". I just hope it is some kind of code name for the project, like what Apple does with its new product development ventures. Even so, it is still a really bad code name.

Tokyo is a tough old bitch. It has been destroyed at least twice (Great Kanto Earthquate of 1923 and during WWII), and it has come back brawnier and stronger than before. Sure, the capital can be moved. Who wants those miserable-looking old farts in their dour black suits around here anyway? But the city will still be here. Just look at the photo (copied from the same article) by Isei Kato/Reuters. It would be very hard for anything outside of a Hollywood or Godzilla disaster flick to totally and permanently destroy it.

The best part is the fact that they are planning to build the tallest tower at this new city. It's a bit dillusional. I guess they want to match the Sky Tree here in Tokyo, which is now the tallest tower in the world and almost complete.

There is no real need to build a whole new city just for the capital. I think, as a comment below that article stated, there are pletty or existing cities that can have a few more buildings constructed to house the old miserable farts.

The Illuminated Beast

I came across the photo above on NASA's Cities at Night website trying to get inspiration for my first blog post while having nothing to do at work. Since I live right in the white blotchy gut of this creature called Tokyo, I went directly for link to this image. It says on the their website that Tokyo, and other Japanese cities, have an unusual greenish glow. European and American cities have an orangish glow. This is apparently due to the type of lighting. The majority of Tokyo, save for the newer orangie parts, use mercury vapor lamps instead of sodium vapor ones.

I cannot help but imagine Tokyo as a sort of electicity-feeding tentacled creature hugging, or repelled by, the dark cold waters of Tokyo Bay. It could be just taking a centuries-long drink. The rivers meandering through its amoebic body could very well be multiple esophagi taking in much needed moisture and murky nutrients. The bright white nodal center could be the massive neural network several stomachs or both; the various ports its mandibles, teeth, fangs, claws, or pincers.

Whatever you or I imagine, it is definitely not just a mass of concrete and glass bocks criss-crossed with asphalt and steel. This illuminated beast is these materials, but much, much more.