Re-Watching the Sopranos - Season 1

I've said before that HBO changed the the way I watch TV. The emphasis on strong writing, stellar acting, big production values, and season-long storylines drew me back into television after a long period of having abandoned the idea of it being something worthwhile. Prior to a change in my TV habits, I had given up watching broadcast TV altogether. There seemed better things to see and better things to watch (such as Hitchcock films).

But HBO's bold, expansive programming changed all that, and these days I prefer long television dramas to movies.

It all started with The Sopranos, a landmark series by any measure. This is a show that took the groundbreaking efforts of Hill Street Blues and blew them into the stratosphere. No one had seen anything like it before. Season-long stories, twisted characters, sex, violence, profanity, and most of all, smarts. This was a show that didn't merely rely on loads of adult content to differentiate itself from network TV. After all, pushing the boundaries of taste is easy. Turning it into art is something else entirely.

Yet The Sopranos was smart. Witty. And despite all the cussing and murder, it could be subtle and intelligent and thought-provoking. This was a show that, between the murders and sex, dealt with some powerful themes. Whether people can change. Morals and good and evil. The things you can justify to yourself and others to protect your family, yourself, or merely your income.

Behind all the mafia intrigue it was actually a deep character study and a family drama.

Anyway, let me dispense with long introductions. While I DO plan to do a series of posts about re-watching this series -- and with each season they are likely to get longer and more detailed -- my intention is not to be scholarly or insightful or groundbreaking. After all, I've been there before. I just want to post about the Sopranos. If you want in-depth, intelligent essays on The Sopranos, look at this great series on the Onion A/V Club. If you just want to reminisce with a friend, however, stick around.

So, season 1.

I very took few notes because I did not expect to be making these blog posts at the time I started re-watching, so this one will be brief. And just so we're clear, every blog post will have SPOILERS, so if you haven't watched the show but plan to, avoid reading. These are not meant to be consumer reviews, they're just some quick commentary between folks who have seen the show.

Here in season 1, the show starts out strong, just as strong as I remember -- which is a surprise because in the years since I last saw it I had gotten the feeling that TV had left The Sopranos behind. But no, it sure didn't. I'm impressed at how well these early episodes hold up. I'm even less of a fan of the family drama now than I was first time around, in large part because Carmella and the kids aren't yet as well-developed as they'd be in later seasons, but the mob stuff is impeccable. It's brisk, brutal, and funny as hell. I go back and forth between lukewarm on the stuff with Dr. Melfi -- at times it screams "gimmick!" -- and finding it a creative way to really get inside the character of Tony Soprano.

Regardless of some stray misgivings, the first season has some OUTSTANDING episodes. Tops among these is "College," in which Tony takes Meadow on a college tour and spots a rat from the past, while Carmela is at home drinking wine and getting close with her priest. It was at this point that the show really hit its stride and showed what it could be.

A couple of things I had forgotten prior to this re-watching:

• How fantastic the humor was in that first season. Guys like Paulie later became caricatures of themselves, but early on he and many others have loads of hilarious moments that also work straight. Even Tony. Lots of humor but not played up for laughs.
• How UNLIKABLE everyone is. Dr. Melfi and Artie Bucco are the only sympathetic characters. Everyone else from start to finish is an unsympathetic person -- but you enjoy watching them anyway.
• How much I wanted Tony's mom to die. I'm serious. What an awful woman. I hated her the first time through and hate her worse now. Unlike most of the unsympathetic but charismatic cast, this is a character I just want to see beaten to within an inch of her life.
• How little mob business there really is. Fully 75% of the show or more is family stuff. And this is the case for the whole series. I guess that's part of what made it click with people. It was a twist on the same old mafia bullshit, and a twist people could relate to.
• Paulie was a great character in those earlier seasons. He descended into a parody of himself later on, but for a while he was comedic genius made even better because he was played straight. I love when he tells a joke/insult, then turns to the next person and says, "Did you hear that, I said" and repeats the joke/insult.

The first season wraps up as if you had just seen a complete story -- they didn't know if they would get a second season, after all -- so, given how long the show went on and the trends in television it went on to inspire it's interesting how few loose strings they left hanging for a possible second season. Big Pussy's disappearance is really the only major one. Otherwise, the antagonists are either killed, jailed, or suffering from major strokes. If the finale was a little BIGGER in action and finality it could have been a satisfying single-season show.

Most impressive to me is how strong the writing still is. Since I first watched The Sopranos a lot of really fantastic shows have taken my attention. The Wire. Breaking Bad. Deadwood (best show ever). Rome. I started to think The Sopranos paled by comparison.

I was wrong.

Check back next Monday for my assessment of Season 2.

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FICTION: The Girl and the Gold Watch

This short piece sprang from a title an online acquaintance threw at me, one I thought he had made up. The title was so evocative, I immediately got a vision in my head of a little girl and ... well, you can read it below. The problem? He hadn't made it up. That was a poor assumption on my part. The title was The Girl, the Gold Watch, and Everything, and it belongs to a book I did not know existed. Regardless, it inspired this short piece of fiction that will maybe one day turn into a full-blown book. With a new title, of course...

The Girl and the Gold Watch

By Eric San Juan

“You know I haven’t the money for that, Sissy. Put it back!”

Mum was displeased, and that did not make Sissy happy. It did not make her happy at all. Still, she put aside her unhappiness, shoving it into the compartment in which she kept all her misfortune, that tiny place only she knew about, and insisted again.

“But mum,” Sissy pleaded, “I must have it. Really I must. Take a look and you’ll see.”

“What you ‘must’ have is a smack if you talk to me like that again, young lady. Now put it back and come on, we’ve still two chickens to buy. Besides, I can’t carry all these things myself!”

Sissy frowned. She didn’t care about stupid chickens or stupid goat’s milk or any of the other stupid, stupid things her mum wanted to buy. What she cared about was the gold watch. She had never seen anything of its sort. Old Mr. Coppernose smiled condescendingly when she asked to see it, but he took it from behind the counter and her let her handle it all the same. The watch was small, just the size of her palm. It was cool to the touch despite the summer heat. Its face had 14 numbers and three hands. The timepiece was affixed to a thin chain of gold. An inscription on the back read, “14 On The Hour, Three Days Of Sun. 13 On The Hour, Run, Girl, Run.” Sissy did not know what it meant.

“Come on, Sissy!”

Sissy mumbled her thanks to Mr. Coppernose, handed the watch back and shuffled along behind her mother. The watch would have to wait. She knew she’d be back. She knew because the watch told her she’d be back. And coming back was a very important thing. It was the most important thing. Sissy had to come back or terrible, terrible things would happen.

The watch had told her that, too. And Sissy knew it was true.

CONTINUED...

Happy birthday to the mostest awesomest editor

Stephen Segal is awesome. I can vouch for this. He's not awesome for being an award-winning editor, nor even for being the guy who guided me during the writing of Stuff Every Husband Should Know, Geek Wisdom, and Whispers of the Old Hag, my piece for the legendary Weird Tales Magazine. He's awesome because he's awesome. He's not just a colleague in the publishing industry, nor my supervisor for several projects, nor even a good fellow. He's a great guy, a tremendous talent, and a friend.

Today is his birthday.

Happy birthday, buddy. Hope to see you soon.

A Year of Hitchcock is on Kindle

I'll be the first to admit that A Year of Hitchcock is not a cheap book. The (gorgeous) hardcover runs $40 to $50. Yeah, I'd love for you to buy one, but it's not a small investment so I understand if you don't. However, good news.

Kindle version. And Nook version.

And...

It's just $9.99. Yep, ten clams.

That's cheap. The book rocks. You should get it.

Why I chose to self-publish

When I decided to take Lakehurst: Barrens, Blimps & Barons and publish it on my own, I did not take the decision lightly. After all, I had been on a modest roll, with three traditionally published books I authored or coauthored hitting shelves in three years.

Advocates of self-publishing are often driven by a "screw the man! Don't let corporations decide what deserves to be published!" attitude, which is in and of itself not a bad thing ... they just forget to tell you how much work self-publishing is, and shrug away any explanation of what traditional publishers do for authors.

I've been happy with traditional publishers. My first three books -- Stuff Every Husband Should Know, and coauthor on A Year of Hitchcock and Geek Wisdom -- all came via traditional publishers. Those publishers took care of a million little things that otherwise would have been on my shoulders. They were professionally and impeccably edited, I had the benefit of working with fantastic editors who made my work better, talented designers made all three books look fantastic, the production quality of the finished product was genuinely outstanding (owners of the hardcover Year of Hitchcock will attest to this), the publisher ensured the books appeared in book stores and libraries across the nation, and they also arranged a nice marketing push for each, especially the folks at Quirk Books, who lined me up with radio interviews and more.

From a monetary standpoint, sure, none made me a big pile of money, but people who think writers make a lot of money are deluded anyway. I didn't get into this for money.

So why did I choose to self-publish the book probably nearest and dearest to my heart?

For a few reasons. The first deserves a little frankness. Several excellent publishers of local history -- Middle Atlantic Press, Plexus Publishing, and The Local History Company -- couldn't even be bothered to send a rejection letter. Taking a pass is one thing, but not even bothering to say no? Frustrating to day the least. But that was only one small part of the puzzle.

The other and far more important reason is that I knew and could reach my intended audience better than any publisher could. Let's face it, this was a niche book from the word GO. Lakehurst is a small town, just 3,000 residents or so. While the military base does mean people come and go frequently, the surrounding town of Manchester is closely linked with the story I tell in this book, and there are many former Lakehurst residents out there, how many of those people actually care about knowing more about the town? I figured not many. That meant it might be incumbent upon me to carry the load of making this book happen.

Further, as editor of the local paper I had an easy way to reach out to the people most likely to be interested and let them know the book exists.

So last year I abandoned the idea of getting the book traditionally published and decided doing it on my own was the best option. After all, I could probably reach the target audience more effectively than a publisher. That meant I was in full control of my own destiny -- and could pocket every dollar the book made.

It also meant I had a TON of work ahead of me.

I spent a load of time on ensuring it had a professional presentation and appearance -- and even then a few typos crept through, despite having multiple proofreaders help me out -- but I didn't actually spent a lot of time on promotion. If you see this blog or my Facebook, you've seen it all.

Yet that was enough to start the ball rolling. People noticed, bought it, talked, and the next thing I knew I was getting email from people I've never met telling me they loved the book and sharing their own Lakehurst stories. The book resulted in appearances on local cable television and local news outlets were doing stories on me. And hey, even better is that the little money it made went to ME, not a publisher. So that was nice.

None of this means I'm abandoning traditional publishing. There are many reasons why I think self-publishing is a sometimes flawed idea overhyped by folks who want to stick it to The Man. Seeing self-publishing as a way to dodge the hard work of traditional publishing too often results in nothing positive, especially when writers unprepared for prime time rush their work out. That difficult slog to being published traditionally can be a long, frustrating marathon, but the lessons you learn along the way are invaluable, and being traditionally published will often lead to increased opportunities for more writing work.

However, self-publishing can be a GREAT idea when attached to the right project and aimed at the right audience. I thought this was just such a project. It just plain made sense for me to do it this way.

And that, more than anything else, is why I self-published this book.