Unforgettable

So the other night we watched Forgetting Sarah Marshall, and I must say- I really liked it (Nate already knew he liked it- he'd seen it while traveling for work, and had declared that I needed to see it, too). I liked it for the obvious reasons- goofy comedy, Jason Segel (and more of his wang than I ever dreamed possible- or really, had ever even considered), realistic beginning-surfer scenes- and of course several very beautiful young women (neither of whom, I must say, are done justice by their Wikipedia photos)... but more than that I liked that fact that there were a lot of really genuine moments in that movie. Moments you could tell were written from real life, not just plucked from a writer's imagination for comedy or romance's sake. And I liked the fact that, for all it's sophomoric sex-humor, it was actually a very adult story, of what it means when you actually start acting like an adult instead of a self-absorbed child.

(And I will admit, there were certain scenes which caused me to cringe, because I saw younger versions of myself- and not in the flattering way.)

But anyway, it got me thinking about the importance of bringing pieces of your own life experience into your writing, and to what extent I do and do not do that with my stuff. It's a good thing because it brings that level of (as I already mentioned) genuineness to your work- but you have to be careful not to over-rely on it, because once you've written away all the little anecdotes of your personal story- what's left? So yeah, fine line and all that.

And on that note, I'm for bed. I did write a bit on Blue Menagerie today, but it needs some plumping up before I put it up here. Maybe tomorrow. Also? Go look at today's photo: Nate revisited his Smokesperiment.