Wednesday, March 2, 2011

False Starts, Plot Treatment and How Do You Know When You Are Done

Although they were short, each of the three chapters from Lamott brought up situations that I could relate to from a photojournalist point of view.

The chapter "False Starts" said so much about what we go through in the process of finding a subject and the story behind them. Just as Lamott said about an artist painting something completely different than what he had in mind, we tend to predict that our stories are going to turn out a certain way. The minute we find an angle to the story we assume we will be able to take certain frames and envision what the photos will already look like before we even take any. Most of the time this backfires on us. If a photographer gets too wrapped up in looking for the shots they feel they must have to tell this story, they may miss the moments and key situations that are really happening in front of them (and it is also likely they will never get most of the shots they were waiting around for).

There is also a section where Lamott explained, "So if you want to get to know your characters, you have to hang out with them long enough to see beyond all the things they aren't."

When I first started my Boone Life with the story about the hair salon owner in Ashland, I was really hoping to find a great angle to my story. At first, the only idea that I found was how small the town was and how she knew everyone. Then when I asked her about it, she started telling me how Ashland had actually been growing and how she didn't know all of the gossip anymore as she used to. Immediately I had tried to put my finger on her as the woman who knew everything about everyone in this small town, when really she feels more detached than ever. It wasn't until I hung around for a month that the true story came out about how she styles her deceased clients' hair, and it was something that I most likely would have never heard about had I not been around for so long.

Lamott also said, "But with luck their tendrils will sneak out of the sides of the box you've put them in, and you will finally have to admit that who they are isn't who you thought they were."

 At the end of this chapter Lamott talked about how dying people can teach us this lesson more directly than most. When I first asked Bekki, the cancer patient, if I could interview her, she told me she was worried that she wouldn't have much of a story to tell since she really couldn't do much anymore. I told her we could try it and see what we came up with, and although she seemed hesitant she agreed. I was extremely nervous about doing this interview because I didn't want the story to be about her cancer, and I knew that's not what Bekki wanted either. I also didn't know how much she would tell me, especially if I didn't ask questions in the right way. I talked to my mom about it and she simply told me to ask her about her story and let it go from there.

When I sat down for her interview I simply said, "Tell me your story. It can be anything you want to say about anything."

I spent almost an hour with her, and that had been the only question I asked. She started out with how her family took in over 300 foster kids throughout her childhood. She also talked about how her favorite job was preventing people from foreclosure and how she loved to volunteer at her church. Then, without me even asking or directing, she transitioned through her life into the part where she was diagnosed with cancer last summer in 2010.

At the time I interviewed her, she was still fighting, but the doctors couldn't tell her how long she had. She talked about how one of the hardest things was not being able to do things for herself, but she also talked about death.

She said, "Whenever I do die, I want to be remembered for finding the good in people, for finding the good in life."

I believe that some of the things she told me came out the way they did because she was in a state of not knowing how long she had to live. She spent her whole life helping others, and I found this out by just one interview- by just listening.

She went into hospice a couple of weeks later on a Tuesday. She didn't make it to the end of the week. I often think about her and the things she told me. It is a message from someone who I only had met once before, but she was so open and gave me, as well as the people who saw her story, a chance to see who she really was.

Reading the "Plot Treatment" chapter was interesting because the part where Lamott described rearranging her story as well as cutting out favorite paragraphs to make the story stronger. After looking through our one-day stories, I noticed we did a lot of that as well. With certain stories we would change the order in a way that told more or told something different. In my story I had to cut out some of my favorite photos that I was sure should be in the story in order for the story to be stronger and more complete. Although it's a hard process at times, cutting and rearranging really does help out a story, especially when there are others to help with it.

The "How Do You Know You Are Done?" chapter was short and sweet, where Lamott basically said that while there is always more that you can put into a project, it can never be completely perfect. I have had that feeling of anxiety over stories where I feel that I could always have done something better, especially situations where there isn't a chance to retake any frames. For my one-day story, I really appreciated the photos I took during the day, while the story was more about the night. While I felt a little insecure about the piece, it was nice to be told that I had a story and that it was complete. It also helps to see from that story what I can do differently in the future with other stories.

Overall, I found a way to relate to each chapter while I read it. I really enjoy this book because there have been many experiences that I have had recently that I keep in the back of my mind. Without this book I don't think many of these ideas would have surfaced and helped me acknowledge how to grow as a photographer.

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