Jarret Liotta on Writing -- Part I

December 2, 2009: Many of my most loyal readers constantly ask where I get my ideas for essays and stories. (Maybe they don't actually ask, but I can tell what they're thinking from the way they look at me.) As a rule I don't like to talk about myself, but I thought I'd make this rare exception and, per chance, enlighten some of my fans and followers as to the esoteric processes that drive and motivate this complex and -- dare I say -- scintillating young man.

In actuality, I get a great number of ideas when I'm out walking. I like to walk because it gives me a chance to ponder my victories and agonize over my defeats, as well as get a little exercise.

Just tonight, for instance, an idea came to me for creating a lengthy fantasy interview with a car company executive who explained to me why headlights were being made much brighter these days. (The blinding headlights I kept being flashed with also played a role. The exec's name was Milton Dickwad, and in that frustrating politically charged avoidant manner unique to corporate PR men, he tries to convince us that the brighter, sharper headlights, though they hurt one's eyes beyond reason, are actually generating more energy back toward the cellunoid (whatever that is) through a very complicated process we're all too stupid to understand, thereby making the car more fuel efficient and, therefore, more environmentally friendly. And, of course, in the most classic of mass-American-appeal fashions, we blindly take his word for it and exit the interview grateful for the little pine tree air freshner he granted us gratis.)

Another recent idea, which came about thanks to a coworker, after he saw me drinking a bottle of Snapple iced tea, centers on exposing the sham of Snapple's "Real" Facts inside their caps. Very few people seem to know that these "facts" are mostly lies, but not all them. In order to differentiate, you have to visit their stupid website. I find this somehow monstrous, as they're planting stupid ideas in my and my children's heads every time we're stupid enough to read their stupid caps (and believe me, we're that stupid!) It infuriates me, because I know from experience that misinformation, once learned, will, over time, become fact in a brain, unless it's replaced. Therefore, unless we take the time to flush the information out by researching the facts -- and I promise you, we never will! -- we're stuck going through the rest of our lives believing erroneous trivia about bees and Indian monkeys and a whole variety of other stupid things ... Fucking assholes! I wish I'd stop drinking their stupid tea. (That'd show them!)

But I digress. I merely wanted to point out how easily and arbitrarily my story ideas arise. The key is getting them down. In some strange way, once the idea hits, in an instant I can almost feel exactly how the thing is to be written, and yet I still have to discipline myself through the process of doing it. More often than not, as you can see from the above, I flippantly make some notes on one idea or another, then never get back to it. On rare occasions I'll regret it, and maybe even revisit an idea many months later, but mostly those ideas are replaced by new ones which -- upon entering the mind -- simply seem like the best, most vital, most original and engaging idea ever to be thought up ... until the next one replaces it ...

Anyway, the most important point is, Why are you wasting your time reading about these stupid ideas when you should be away from your computer nurturing yourself with ice cream and pornography? Haven't I taught you anything, O favorite readers of mine!

The Sophistry of Studying Sherlock Holmes

It was mere coincidence that I stumbled upon a volume of "The Hound of the Baskervilles" at a used booksale this summer. (I didn't know a new movie was imminent.) Delighted by the story, I bought another book, then secured an enormous annotated volume from the library to continue my enjoyable Sherlock Holmes journey.

While I continue to love the stories -- you can't go wrong with pleasantly written Victorian-era London stuff -- I was shocked to discover the puzzling and comical plethora of footnotes that accompany this big volume. This particular one draws from a wide range of Holmes-philes, most of whom seem delusional in their seeming assumption that Holmes is a real person. And no exaggeration, the amount of copy devoted to footnotes literally exceeds the writing itself.

Never has the pedantic rambling of so-called scholars seemed so ridiculous to me. While the notes sometimes share interesting nuggets -- mainly those that explain the time period in context -- many of them involve conjecture relating to Holmes' real life, and a bizarre analysis of his choices, and related inconsistencies, as if he were real. It's like a collection of nerd notes on Star Trek episodes.

Most humorous is the off-handed manner in which Arthur Conan Doyle probably wrote these stories. It's no secret he found them somewhat beneath him, and had to be paid exorbitant amounts of money to write more and more. (He even killed Holmes off at one point so he could stop having to write the things.)

Reading the enormous number of fatuous footnotes -- I opened to one at random just now that applauds Holmes' ability to determine hair color by moonlight, and challenges readers to do the same -- I find it rather pathetic. As a writer, I know that all those inconsistencies and truth-stretches were simply the result of Doyle wanting to finish his pages so he could get off to his favorite bar, or some Fleet Street floozy he was frequenting. He never gave those stories a fraction of the unwarranted attention these pedantic fools continue to offer it.

That all said, I'm not sure it was even worth this space to point that out ... But it's been a week since my last entry, so ...