| Paul Evan Hughes
MFA in Interdisciplinary Arts Goddard G1 Packet03 Dear Ruth, I hope that this packet finds you well. I think things are finally starting to come together for me, at least technologically. I feel like I can begin the meat and potatoes of the project now. I will address the various aspects of the project first, and then I will respond to your last packet response. Video: My camera was delivered from sony.com on time as promised. It did not come with blank tapes or a firewire cord, so while I was waiting for their arrival (you’d be surprised that even in a city as large as Syracuse I couldn’t find a 4-to-4-pin IEEE 1394 firewire cord) I began experimenting with the photographic capability of the camera. It takes such beautiful still images at megapixel quality and stores them on a Sony memory stick the size of a piece of chewing gum. I will include a link below to the photographs that I’ve taken and placed online. I have also now begun to take some very rudimentary and preliminary video footage, which I have video-outed to vhs and included with this packet. Within the space of about two weeks, both of my vcrs died, but I have now acquired a replacement. So the equipment is now nicely coming together. The video footage that I’ve included with this packet is just about twenty minutes of shots taken from within my apartment, except for the stills at the beginning of the tape, which are actually images of the telephone and ceiling in my parents’ barn. I’ve always been enthralled by the rich texture of the whitewashed barn ceiling, so I began collecting stills to use as interjected images in the project… I feel that some of the textures would look beautiful as a translucent accompaniment to other footage. I will begin to experiment with this by the next packet. It will be a question of finding the right opacity adjustment. The high-contrast whitewash looks eerily like some of the close-up photographs of ground zero wreckage that I viewed online, for example the back cover image of my “to wound” anthology. The rest of the video shows the interior apartment shots… I’ve
begun experimenting from within my apartment because this is where I experienced
September: alone, without anyone near, relying solely on computer and telephone
communication with the outside world. Many of my shots could almost
be stills except for one small aspect that exhibits motion: screensaver,
television, traffic outside framed by a motionless beer bottle. I
am experimenting with this static/motion dichotomy. To me, when I
experienced the emotions of September, everything seemed to freeze.
My apartment was the static, still, safe part of my world. Nothing
moved, nothing changed. The stillness was almost suffocating as I
realized that outside these walls, people were dying, buildings were burning
and falling. These preliminary shots are an exploration of this stillness
juxtaposed with images of outside movement. Even the rain falling
gently outside provided a lush texture of movement… I was pleased
with that shot.
Photographs: http://www.resurrender.net/photo.html This is just a few series of photographs that I’ve taken with the new camera since its arrival. I’ve once again found my love for photography, and this camera, with its ease-of-use and high-quality shots, has made it easy for me to begin again. I’ve never had a real digital still camera that I could pick up and carry around, so this is quite liberating for someone usually tied to a webcam or too lazy to load film and take it to be developed. Audio: No updates to report at this time. Webdesign: In addition to the photography page linked above, I’ve now started two new journal pages separated from resurrender.net. I wanted to experiment with new communities and see how my writing would come across to people who had never before encountered it, so I joined two well-known online journal services, Open Diary and Livejournal. It is not that I no longer want to write for my audience, but I hope to expand to new audiences and perhaps find new sources of customers for my books. The journals that I’ve started are: http://www.freeopendiary.com/entrylist.asp?authorcode=A698797
The complete text of the entries that I’ve written so far is included later in this packet. Reading: I have continued to mull over Bolter and Grusin’s Remediation and Delany’s Dhalgren, but for this packet I’ve also begun reading works by Irving Singer, P.D. James, and Robert Rodriguez, listed below in the annotations section. For the next packet, I will attempt to complete reading these books and also Renov and Suderburg’s Resolutions: Contemporary Video Practices. Writing: Attached, you will find a short essay in which I discuss Bolter and Grusin’s idea of remediation in the context of both Samuel Delany’s Dhalgren and my own An End. I have also included the complete text of the new online journals that I’ve begun and the next two entries in An End. Right now I am exploring my voice and attempting to situate myself within the community of writers like Delany who incorporate journal, autobiography, lyrics and poetic aspects into prose. Take care, Ruth. Paul
That’s it for now in terms of new material. I will now address
questions that you raised in your response to my first packet.
Response to Ruth’s Packet 02 Response: "Before I go further, one small request. My desk is too small and your papers have already gone flying. Please number the pages next time!" Sorry about that! My friend printed the pages out for me, and it wasn’t until I was in the post office putting the envelope together that I realized his older version of Word hadn’t maintained the page numbering. I promise to number the packet pages from now on. "I appreciate the emotional depth in your work and hope that you do too. I would suggest that as you experiment with form, you try to honor the depth in your work as opposed to subverting it in some way. When I read both the new journal entry and "Lilies," there was actually a very clear storyline, particularly in the later. Furthermore, the work is very autobiographical. So I think that you have to ask yourself how you want communicate the richness of your emotional life. When does it serve you to deny or complicate the story that is there? Is this simply to disguise the autobiographical element, or can it be done in a way to raise the "emotional tension" you are after? Are there times when it is appropriate to keep the narrative line as you have done in "Lilies?"" When I first began working in video, I was coming from a strictly two-dimensional undergrad experience in painting and drawing. Adding the third dimension of depth and the fourth dimension of time into the creative process was something utterly novel to me. I had taken photographs before, but never video. When I began shooting, I had a vague idea of how I wanted to handle the project: I wanted to create an autobiographical exploration of a very difficult period in my life using video images of places, people, and activities that I most closely associated with that period. There are segments of my [re][surrender] project that very clearly contain a narrative: text lifted from emails to the characters involved and read to the audience. The video aspect of those segments becomes a backdrop for the audio, which is what the audience focuses on (home:solace/refuge, times of transition). In other segments, the video itself tells the story and the audio becomes secondary or unimportant (Vocal Accord 2000 segment, These Monkeys Bite!). To the participants in the project, the actors and people who lived the events that are depicted either in video recording or audio recounting, the narrative is for the most part quite clear. The project was intended for a specific audience: the microcosm of the St. Lawrence University campus that knew me and who I knew would show up to the premiere. When I write for the audience of resurrender.com, for example, the journal entry that I included in the last packet, I’m much less likely to directly tell a story, because for the most part, I don’t know the readers. I must make sure that the entry contains enough narrative to associate it with the overall theme of my online journal, and allow persistent readers to make the subtle connections from entry to entry. The characters of “Lilies” always took great pleasure in going through my entries and pointing out references to themselves. The morning after an update was always filled with IM conversations about subtle and not-so-subtle romantic references contained in my latest piece. The “Lilies” piece itself was the first true prose exploration of my contorted web of internet romances that I’ve ever written. I wanted to be direct in my narrative because I knew that hiding the facts in flowery metaphors wouldn’t give you a good idea of the timeline of events, an understanding of a main conflict in my life these past two years, or even allow me to finally gain some sense of closure through straightforward analysis. I’ve been told before that I hide behind my words. I wanted to just say what I needed to say for once and see how I felt afterwards. My work is unabashedly autobiographical, sometimes painful to write and read. I’m trying to realize my talent for emotional writing, but I have a hard time facing that strong defense mechanism that keeps telling me that all of my writing is overly-sentimental saccharine bullshit. I like to dig into uncomfortable issues… Depression and loss, the struggle to create identity, etc. Sometimes I think my roundabout way of presenting narrative, veiled in conflicting images, thick servings of pretty words heaped upon bitter truths is just my way of saying that I’m having a hard time saying what I mean. I know there is a large part of me that doesn’t want to turn within and face those issues, no matter how long or hard I explore them in words or images. "I am still not convinced by your answer to my query about the female voice. I understand the issues about the sound of your particular male voice. But you could've asked other guys. I am not questioning mixing up the emails to different respondents (an interesting strategy). But since you are using this device again in the current work, I want to ask again, what does it mean when you displace the male role in a heterosexual relationship onto the female? I don't have an answer here, but as I think this is a significant decision, I start to speculate as I write. Does it in any way displace your responsibility in the relationship onto the women, who is typically seen as the more "emotional' one in relationships? Does it heighten tension, or confusion?" You know, I’d never really thought about why I chose to assign specific voices to certain email recipients. There are a plethora of psycho-social ramifications to my action that I had never before considered. I think of myself as a pretty liberal guy, but in retrospect, I have to wonder if there is a subconscious part of me directly blaming the females in each of those relationships that were explored in the emails for the dissolution of said relationships, so I therefore placed a female voice to my own words. I won’t deny that even if women are usually the more “emotional” member of a heterosexual relationship, I would consider myself the active member in that role in each of the interactions covered. I now have many doubts about my own agenda. I knew that my previous video project would be a catalyst of closure, a way to enact the burning of bridges, but now I see and am uncomfortable with the idea that I could have been projecting my own failings onto the female members of each relationship. This is a lot of food for thought. 11 March 2002 "My musings in the last paragraph seem most appropriate. You begin by asking about the usefulness of sharing your innermost thoughts in this form. Yes, "writing" may be one of "the most poweful media of closure," but what kind of safety does the anonymous community give one to work out one's fears? It's odd, even as I think of the Goddard process, in writing I give you much more detailed, thoughtful commentary then I ever do to a student in person. But on the other hand, communication is limited to the written word and doesn't happen in the other dimensions of interpersonal interaction." The exploration of the dichotomy of the “real” (and yes, we need to find a better word for this) and “virtual” worlds is quickly becoming a major issue in my artistic process. I thought that I would sit down and create a nice little video project about 9-11, using text from the online world, video from the real world, and roll it all together into an end product. It is becoming so very difficult to stay on task… I’m not sure if I want to stay on task anymore. Public/private, anonymous/identified, imagined/actual are now the edges that I am working with. I’d been slipping further and further into what I now consider the subjective, ambiguous online world for months until a very “real” intervention of the physical woke me from a slumber actual and metaphorical a little before 9AM on 9-11. Other recent “intrusions” of reality have come from the safety of the internet: Icee’s stalking, the end of my relationship with Lindsay, the beginning of my relationship with Susan. I no longer can trust the virtual world and the constructs that I encounter there… Irony or poetic justice?: Just as I start to read Bolter and Grusin’s Remediation, Lunenfeld’s The Digital Dialectic and Hayles’ How We Became Posthuman, and just as I start to question this medium in terms of veracity and the ease with which we can create these “characters,” I stumble upon Lindsay’s online journal. There is safety in anonymity, if you can keep your secrets hidden from those who’ve placed you on a pedestal. "I'm interested when you state that "Goddard catalyzed a dramatic re-envisioning of paul." I look forward to hearing more on that. Am glad to hear that you've found your art again, though I would think that some of it is in the form of this medium." I guess I was one of those G1 students who had to keep telling myself to “Trust the Goddard process” about eight times each minute for the first few days of the residency. I’d been so starved for interaction with anyone with an artistic bent ever since graduating in May of 2000. I’d found people online with whom to discuss my art, but I hadn’t actually sat down and discussed it with a flesh-and-blood human being for so long. Suddenly I found myself in the midst of dozens of kindred spirits, even if many of them seemed to treat me as some kind of child prodigy. It was an interesting moment in my life when after dinner one night I said goodnight to my fellow G1s at the table, and as I was walking away, I overheard some of the women saying “Isn’t he precious? He’s so smart, so great.” I’m not trying to sound cocky, but it was that kind of human interaction that I had gone without for so long. It was (and is) so very refreshing to find a community that appreciates art and artists. I had never before truly discussed my online ventures with an audience until my peer group meeting with Danielle, in which I frantically presented as quickly as possible as many of the pages that I had made in the space of my allotted half-hour as I could. It hadn’t really hit me until that thirty minutes just how sprawling my online projects had become, or how impressive they seem to people who had never before seen an extensive network of pages that links together thousands of people. Again, it boils down to the public/private dichotomy; some were amazed that I would attempt to tackle such deeply personal issues in a forum as public as my network. Goddard has already shown me, just in the space of a one-week residency, that my art can begin to find meaning in the tangible world through discussion with my peers just as much as it has found meaning in the non-world of the internet with a different sort of peer. I crave that human-to-human interaction, although I’ll be the first to admit that since the residency I’ve somewhat fallen back into my secluded, electronic ways. But just the fact that I can’t wait to get back to campus and start it all again says something. "So it's great that you can use this personal form to "reassess" the digital medium. This essay raises a lot of important questions, more than I can touch on here. You mix the personal and the political, or philosophical, in a powerful way. Am afraid that I responded to the general issues you raised as opposed to the specificity of the writing, but that 's what seemed appropriate." I appreciate that you responded to the general issues instead of the writing itself… I know that my writing style is at times idiosyncratic and annoying: sporadic use of capitals, sentences that trail off into nothing, interjected lyrics or snippets of conversation. But even through all that, it is reassuring to see that you understood what I was trying to say about my own experience with the conflict between the tangible and the virtual. "I do think that you keep a tension going between your presence "i'm here. and i care. so deeply…please know that." (sorry that my computer keeps capitalizing things), and the difficulty of being truly present, intimate on-line." I know that I wrote this piece for a very specific audience: both those
disgruntled twenty-something internet enthusiasts who have taken an interest
in my life through my online writing, and the tangible-world people who
go online sometimes to see what I am writing about, but have in fact interacted
with me in “real life.” When I wrote the piece, I felt a very distinct
conflict within myself about the prospect of a meaningful real-world relationship
with a young woman versus the virtual long-term “relationship” that had
developed between myself and a young woman whom I had constructed through
subjective interpretations of presented detail. I have found intimacy
in the tangible world, which has been made all the more meaningful with
the revelation that the “intimacy” I had found virtually was all an illusion,
hidden from the other member’s boyfriend for the past two years.
Lilies "Can I ask for a bit of background here? How do people get to your site and find you? Is the community created as part of that site or from separate message boards. Also, do you mind explaining what IM is?" In 1996, I decided to make my first webpage, which was a horribly-amateur comedy page about a supposed invasion of Canadian chinchillas. The audience was mainly my high school friends, and my growing undergrad social circle. The page was hosted on a free geocities.com server, and was composed of exactly three separate html documents. I moved the page from geocities.com to tripod.com in 1998, because of space and banner concerns. I despise banner advertisements on my pages. They brand the site as amateur and distract the audience from the actual content with increasingly-splashy and annoying devices. Tripod.com offered a premium member service with no ad banners, so I moved. My site was also beginning to grow beyond the geocities size limits. The chinchilla page had been replaced by that time with a rudimentary information page about myself, writing samples, a small portfolio, and an unofficial Singing Saints homepage, detailing our a cappella exploits around the nation. Soon after graduation in 2000, tripod.com discontinued its premium banner removal service. I decided to register my own domain, based on the popularity of my senior video project and its impending inclusion in the Deauville American film festival in September 2000. I registered resurrender.com through bluegenesis.com, where it has been hosted ever since. There are no banners, and the service provides 150mb of space and 20 email accounts. In May of 2000, I requested a message board service from the administrator of the illout.com forum, and he built me one. I thought it would be a good place for people who read my material and looked at my art to interact with one another. Within a year, we had grown exponentially and had taken over the number one ranking on illout.com from both puce.com and greenday.org. Puce.com is a personal webpage much like my own. Greenday.org is the official forum for the punk band Green Day. Both message boards have since left illout.com, perhaps upset by the fact that an author from the sticks of NY could create more of a following than a world-known musical group and a webcam girl from L.A. The resurrender.net message board continues to dominate the illout.com message board service, with 5,250 members and almost 196,000 posts. Because I saw that certain pages of resurrender.com were getting many more hits than others, I decided to diversify and register new domains for those segments. This initial expansion spawned dyingdays.com, ifihadamonkey.com, and singingsaints.org. To tie those pages into a cohesive unit with resurrender.com, my personal homepage, I decided to register resurrender.net as a network site for all of those pages. I found it simpler to advertise resurrender.net on business cards etc. instead of listing off my individual pages. At this time, I was becoming heavily-involved with the marketing of my books, and I was traveling around the country on my first road trip, so advertising resurrender.net by word-of-mouth became pivotal to success in creating an audience and a customer base. The message board service is an integral part of my network. It is the main meeting place for my writers and audience. Most of my current dyingdays, ifihadamonkey, silverthought, timeforkink, etc. authors first found the sites through illout.com. In turn, they begin writing for me and each bring their own new members to the community, who sometimes also start to write. I would say that a majority of my audience finds me through my publishers’ pages, top-level search engine placement for keywords such as “resurrender,” “dyingdays,” “Paul Evan Hughes,” etc., and the illout forum. I try to provide email contact information on each of the sites of my network, and there is an extensive contact page on resurrender.com. I do prefer to interact people in the semi-“public” atmosphere of my forum system. I do sometimes interact with online people through AOL IM (Instant Messenger), a person-to-person chat system that has proliferated these past few years, but even there, I have one IM username viewable by internet people and one reserved solely for my real-world friends. "It's interesting to me that you actually transgress the lines of the virtual world in each of these relationships. Then with Icee, this ruptured boundary becomes too threatening. This is the one place where I wonder if you could've pushed the text further. You simply state, "I packed my bags and left for a while." That line totally downplays the fear and other emotions that you must have had. "temporary exile?" What was it like to be on the run from what turned out to be a virtual threat?" I don’t know if I’m ready to discuss that segment of my life yet… It was a surreal time: realizing that my words had been completely misunderstood by someone who by all accounts exhibits a hefty amount of mental illness, and she wanted to hurt me. I packed very few things and headed north. It seemed the best direction to go. I think that my treatment (or lack of treatment) of that period in the Lilies piece is just an acknowledgement that I don’t yet know how to resolve the threat and my reaction in my mind. "I wonder how you feel about this piece. Though you write elsewhere of not have a ready-made storyline, here it is quite clear, though nicely layered. In the next to the last paragraph you also sum up your thoughts quite clearly. You present an interpretation of your work in a much clearer, more direct way, than you do in the journal piece or anything else I've seen. Does this explication take away from the piece or add to it?" I guess I wrote this piece for myself, and for you, because I know that many of the underlying issues of my work this semester are rolled into that real world/virtual world dichotomy. I haven’t let anyone else read it, nor do I intend to. I haven’t written anything in the last two years that I wasn’t at some level intending to place online for my readers at some point. I reserved the clarity for this piece because I know that my psychology needed to tackle these relationships and these issues of loss in a place that would see no interference from any of the participants except myself. I believe that my clarity, the clinical precision with which I deconstructed those relationships, strengthened the piece. I can’t subtract myself from that storyline, but this was the closest that I’ve felt to analyzing it objectively. An end: part four:… "I'm intrigued by the contrast between the poetic lines and the narrative description on the first page. I still never figure out quite what happened to him. In fact the whole thing is hard to follow. It's hard to jump from one character to the next. Should I be able to read this out of context like this? I can get the part about Lilith and Hunter but am confused about all of the parallel worlds that flash by." My apologies… I should have attempted to give you more of a context for this segment of the book. I sent it because I wanted you to see what I’ve been writing creatively recently. The sample I sent is just the first three entries of part four of a five-part novel, each with twenty entries. I have included the next two entries in this packet, not that I expect you will be able to follow them any easier than the previous three, but because I wanted again to show you my recent writing, which I feel is now beginning to expand in the areas of my attempt to find my voice and my integration of unique elements such as segments from older material and musical lyrics into the storyline. I’ll admit my prose style is becoming disjointed and frantic as opposed to earlier segments of the book. This departure in style is directly related to Delany’s Dhalgren. An End is at heart a story of loss and distance, senses heightened by a jarring criss-cross of timelines. It is always rewarding to bring a character back into the mix after a hiatus of many months, and the readers’ reaction to seeing the character again, almost like seeing an old friend after a long absence. In sum "I am still searching for how to respond to your packets. I often do a close reading of writing, commenting on particular words, or images, looking more closely at the structure of the piece, but that doesn't seem appropriate here. Please let me know more about what type of feedback you would like!" I found your discussion of the central themes of the written pieces I sent to be quite helpful in that I very seldom receive any feedback at all about my writing, or at least the subject matter and underlying themes of my writing. I call myself an editor of dyingdays.com, but in fact I don’t edit the entries that I receive; I simply make them available to the audience. As such, I never feel inclined to give my authors any feedback at all, something that they sometimes despise about me. They think that somehow because I have books published with an independent publisher, I have a pre-ordained ability to tell them what to fix in their own writing. I don’t see it that way at all… I just make the writing available, and sometimes contribute a piece myself. I don’t want to set myself above my authors. So for anyone to actually give me feedback about my own writing is a new experience. From your comments, I am beginning to situate my own writing within a larger sphere. I am beginning to recognize the recurring themes, and what works and what is somewhat awkward. I don’t know what to tell you in terms of how to give me better feedback, because what you’ve given me so far has already started so many introspective processes within me. "Some of the central themes in your work are emerging. In the autobiographical work, you've presented a provocative range of writing, from "Lilies" with has the clearest narrative line, to the audio recordings that were the most repetitive. The journal work falls somewhat in between, I think. So I wonder in which strategy you find the most richness? I also look forward to seeing how you'll translate this all into video." I agree that the journal piece does fall somewhere in between “Lilies” and the audio in terms of narrative structure. I am the most comfortable writing and creating works like the journal, and I feel I’m the most successful when working in that medium. I realize that there is danger in being “comfortable” with something, but I don’t find the journaling process very comfortable at all, in truth. The writing process itself is a safe and time-tested method for me, but the intro- and retrospection that occurs while using a journal format to analyze events and emotions is a distinctly uncomfortable process. It enacts closures, but not without pain. "I did want to mention that I have read most of "to wound the autumnal city". I think that you did a good job editing. Though I occasionally wanted to skim, I was surprised how compelling much of the writing was. In line with the general questions you're posing, I should say that this work was evidence that people were using the web to work out both an intellectual and emotional response to 911. Did you feel like you created at least a temporary community? Have you been able to distribute this? What do you think of moving from the web to the physicality of a book?" It is interesting how the dyingdays.com “community” for about a month became really a 9-11 community. I think I received the first bit of writing from one of my authors by about 10AM EST on that Tuesday morning. Almost immediately after the first news hit, the regular posters on the illout message board service were discussing, questioning, venting. We received several thousand posts that day on my board alone, as opposed to the usual mid-hundreds. It was as if people didn’t want to watch the television anymore or look out the window; they sat in front of the computer and wrote. The writing that I received from staff and guest authors in the ensuing weeks was the most heartfelt, provocative writing that my site had ever seen or has seen since. It did truly feel like a community, more so than the usual haphazard band of authors who post a few times on the board and write one entry each month. I’ve been able to distribute the book through booksurge.com and my own pages. A new partnership with amazon.com and half.com promises a wider audience in the next few months. I will say that sales have been modest, less than I had expected, but I realize that the material is a difficult read, and people are perhaps not yet ready to confront it in book form. There was never a doubt in my mind after the initial dyingdays.com 9-11 special edition that I would publish this book. I know that the site really helped the authors to talk about their fears, to mourn their loved ones, to share those little anecdotes that each of us has about that day. The book itself looks better than I expected it to, and for the first time seeing my own imprint on the cover meant a lot to me… But I really haven’t opened it, haven’t read through it again. I looked at that text every day for four months, worked on the cover for so long. I myself am not ready to open the book again and confront my own writing. "What are you thinking of reading next?" I plan to continue reading Irving Singer’s Reality Transformed: Film as Meaning and Technique and Robert Rodriguez’s Rebel without a crew, or How a 23-year-old filmmaker with $7000 became a Hollywood player. I also hope to acquire a copy of Jack Womack’s Random Acts of Senseless Violence. I just got a copy of Renov and Suderberg’s Resolutions: Contemporary Video Practices, which promises to hold a wealth of essays about modern video art. "I'm also wondering if you've been looking at experimental films and video. There are so many directions to go here. Some of the first names that come to mind, if I haven't shared them already are Chantel Ackerman (for repetition, fragmented montage of "real" events), Kubelka, Kubalka, (I need to check spelling, from the seventies, but did incredible work with repetition of imagery), perhaps Marker's Sans Soliel (again hope I am spelling the second word right) and on a very different note, Linda Montano's video Mitchell's Death. (That's a very personal monologue about her ex's death, but I think that you'd really appreciate the intensity of it.) These are just some first thoughts. Are you familiar with any of this? What else are you watching?" I am not familiar with Ackerman, Kubelka or Montano, but I will attempt
to find their work online. I have heard of Marker before, and have
always wanted to get a copy of La Jetee, the inspiration for Gilliam’s
12 Monkeys. I will look into acquiring Sans Soliel as well.
I have been watching quite a few short films on http://www.ifilm.com, which
just has an amazing selection of short films uploaded to the site, updated
daily. If things go well, I’d like to eventually upload my own films
to the site. After purchasing a dvd/vcr, I can finally start watching things
again. Within the space of about two weeks, both of my vcrs died.
I have the best technological luck sometimes!
Goddard G1 Packet03 Annotations. Bolter, Jay David and Grusin, Richard. Remediation: Understanding New
Media. Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Press, 2000.
James, P.D. The Children of Men. New York, NY: Warner Books, 1992.
Rodriguez, Robert. Rebel without a crew, or How a 23-year-old filmmaker
with $7000 became a Hollywood player. New York, NY: Plume, 1996.
Singer, Irving. Reality Transformed: Film as Meaning and Technique.
Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Press, 1998.
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