Elliot: the King of Gratuitous Exposition

Anyone who's written a screenplay has likely heard this rule: avoid exposition as much as possible in dialogue.

Don't just have a character explain the story or say directly how he feels ("I'm angry"). That's not how people talk in real life, and audiences won't buy it. Instead, characters should show how they're feeling, and the script's story and relationships should gradually emerge over the course of the screenplay.

From the John August screenwriting blog (one of my favorites):

Always ask yourself: Would the character actually say this, or is he only saying it because you need the audience to know some fact or detail? If the answer is the latter, you’re writing exposition and not dialogue. That’s not good.

August recommends listening to speakers around you for cues on how to write good dialogue.

This brings me to Elliot, who's a terrible example of "realistic-sounding" speech. Everything that comes out of his mouth is gratuitous exposition.

Here are some phrases he utters on a daily basis:
1. "I'm awake!" (yes, I figured that out when you jumped on me)
2. "I'm having fun."
3. "I'm hiding!"

That last one is both expository and self-defeating, since it usually gives away his position.

So I guess the lesson is, keep your ear out for good dialogue but avoid small children.

Thank You for Not Using a Definite Article

There's a series of Bank of America ads that attempt to make local references (perhaps to help people forget that this San Francisco-born company is now based in Charlotte).

Photo credit: Language Log via SFist

Last year, they created a stir by referring to BART and Muni as "the BART" and "the Muni." Anyone who's lived in the Bay Area awhile knows that we hate definite articles. We say, "Take 280 to Palo Alto. There's too much traffic on 101." (Unlike people in Southern California, who put a "the" in front of all their freeways.)

Apparently BofA got the message, because check out their ads now.

No definite article!

UPDATE: Click here for more.

One Step Closer to My Edible Restaurant

As loyal readers know, it's my longstanding goal to open a restaurant where you can eat everything (the plates, the utensils, the glasses and the napkins).

My main challenge is finding suitable drinking containers — an issue I last discussed in December. But it's good to know there's a bevy of choices for the utensils, including these forks from the French boulangerie and patisserie Poilâne. (Thanks for the tip, BuboBlog Philadelphia correspondent Guy.)

From a description on the Cool Hunting site:

The curry-flavored forks are made from rye flour and parmesan and pair well with hummus or Indian appetizers like mint yogurt or mango chutney. For a charming way to stir espresso, as a garnish for vanilla ice cream or for any number of other creative uses, try the shortbread cookie spoons.

If only they made a knife...

UPDATE: Sorry for not using the correct term for these: "food rakes."

CSI: Ektorp Sofa

Ikea continues to get more creative with their showcase rooms.

Apparently this one helps you imagine what your living room might look like after a violent crime.

You're Not a Robot, Alice!

I'm finally trying to post some Alice videos, even if I probably won't be able to match the filmography devoted to Elliot.

My fear is Alice will someday be like the girl in that "Twilight Zone" episode, where she figures out she's a robot because there are no baby pictures of her.



Look, future Alice: Here's a sweet video of you as a baby. Evidence!

'Dat Not Working, Daddy'

My laptop's hard drive crashed so catastrophically that even a team of highly trained clean-room engineers at DriveSavers weren't able to recover a single file.

Elliot's application of a Dora Band-Aid also failed to help.

The really tragic part: I was halfway through ScriptFrenzy — the script version of National Novel Writing Month. I lost everything.

Now I only have 10 days to write a 100-page script. Not sure I'm going to make it.

Questions Best Left Unanswered

Elliot and I came upon a roly-poly bug yesterday.

Unsurprisingly, it rolled up in ball when he touched it.

"Daddy, where's its head?"

"You don't want to know."