We’ve been here for six days, in a city made up of small, interconnected townships. Driving through the barren plateau plains of Wyoming we saw rivers of snow flow across the road, obscuring the lane markers. Outside, the wind chill sent the temperature to bitter lows. In 36 hours, we covered 2300 miles. I slept in the front, occasionally dreaming but mostly feeling the road beneath us. In Iowa, smoking at rest stops is illegal. We drove on and I woke up as we neared Chicago six hours later.
Michigan has no expression, only forests punctuated by strip malls and adult stores. Pre-production began on Monday. We start shooting on the 31st, working six five-day weeks until May 6th. I should be on the way back to LA by the tenth.
I finally know why “8 Mile” was titled that way. I completely forgot that Eminem was raised in Detroit.
Finished Wells Tower’s “Everything Ravaged, Everything Burned,” and I’m not extremely impressed. It feels very much like a collection about the problems of white men, which begin to grate on the reader after a certain amount of time. The stories begin with the humorous and meander to the more serious until finally, we see trauma and a brief attempt to regain the sense of humor we started with, namely by an account of a bunch of down on their luck Vikings who decide to rape and pillage a neighboring island, and in the process, come upon some rather surprising discoveries.
It’s not that it was badly written. Tower definitely has a way with verbs, but his empathy and connection seem lacking.