Was a Famous Artist's Controversial Depiction of Jesus Intentional?

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Would you believe me if I said the guy in the painting below is Jesus? 

Well, it is, or it’s supposed to be, as envisioned by the great 17^th century Dutch master Rembrandt van Rijn.
The painting was created sometime between 1648-1656, was one in a series of “Head of Christ” paintings, and was found in the artist’s home after he died. And now it, along with other paintings, prints and drawings, can be seen in the Philadelphia Museum of Art’s “Rembrandt and the Face of Jesus” exhibit.
You may wonder what’s so special about the drawing above. Well, take a look at another one in the series of “Head of Christ” paintings.
You may be saying, “That’s not Jesus! That looks like an average bloke.”
And therein lies Rembrandt’s genius…
You see, most of us are used to iconic images of Christ. Something like this:

Or this:


 
And perhaps one of the most popular depictions of Jesus:

Now take another look at Rembrandt’s Head of Christ:






See anything missing? How about the halo, the crown of thorns, the flowing robe, the throngs of followers… In the above picture, Jesus looks like an average dude because, well, he was an average dude. (At least at first.)
And that’s what’s brilliant about Rembrandt. By depicting Jesus as an average man with a human face, Rembrandt turned the entire history of Christian art—one accustomed to rigid prototypical depictions of Jesus--on its head. No other artist up until this point had broken this tradition. Rembrandt was the first. 
Kinda ballsy, right?
It’s hard to imagine this being such a controversial thing, but in 17^th century Europe, it was quite a bold move for the iconoclastic Rembrandt to take. He lived during the Renaissance, a movement devoted to Christianity, especially in art. The Church patronized the arts, the result of which was roughly three hundred years of “traditional” depictions of biblical themes.
So now here was this Dutch dude, looking to break with tradition and depict the most famous of icons…as an average man?
That’s some radical stuff! That would kinda be like Stephen Hawking announcing that Earth was indeed the center of the solar system. Can you imagine the backlash such a claim would create?
But was Rembrandt’s break with traditional intentional, or just the natural progression of an artist? Did he mean to be controversial—or just realistic?
First, let’s not forget that Jesus was Jewish. We know that Rembrandt lived among a growing Jewish community in his native Amsterdam, and that he was highly influenced by their life and culture. And we know that Jewish people were often the subject of many a drawing and sketch, and that such artwork by Rembrandt grew and evolved over time as he educated himself about Jewish history. Knowing this, we can draw the conclusion that eventually the Jewish population provided more than just subject matter; it provided patrons…and people who would pose for him so that he may more realistically depict their life and culture.
There’s no doubt that Rembrandt used a live (Jewish) model in which to depict his "Head of Christ" series of paintings.
So was there a little piece of Rembrandt that wanted to shake things up, upend tradition and get people talking by depicting Jesus in a non-traditional way? Certainly. But more than likely, the “Head of Christ” paintings are a product of an artist’s surroundings, an attempt to show a realistic portrait of the most influential man that western civilization has ever known.
The “Rembrandt and the Face of Jesus” exhibit runs through October 30, 2011. Go see it because it’s the first Rembrandt exhibit to set foot in Philadelphia since 1932. Go see it because it’s exceedingly rare (Rembrandt never intended for most of the collection to see the light of day). Go see it because seven of the paintings in the exhibit are being reunited for the first time since they were found in 1656. And go see it because it is artistically, historically and culturally significant.
For information see the Philadelphia Museum of Art’swebsite.

Does The TSA's 3 oz. Liquid Rule Still Hold Water?

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I recently returned from a trip to Ireland, which I find to be one of the easiest European countries to travel to. You can fly there non-stop from Philly and the New York airports in as little as six hours, and because Ireland is a very popular American tourist destination, you can sail through customs without hassle.
Flying home from Ireland couldn’t be any easier either. The major airports in Dublin and Shannon have U.S. Customs kiosks right there in the airport; U.S. officials stamp your passport and essentially welcome you back to the U.S. before you’ve even boarded your home-bound flight, eliminating the need for your travel-weary butt to wait in a long customs queue on the other side.
Because of the ease with which I’ve traveled to Ireland in the past, I didn’t even worry when my father (who traveled with us this time) bought two large bottles of Irish whiskey at the Shannon Airport last minute before boarding our flight. As predicted, airline officials waved him and his Paddy onto the plane with no problem.
Talk about a system that works and is user-friendly. (Now how come the rest of the country can’t get its arse in gear?)
So when I recently read about a woman whose husband had an issue returning home from Rome with a few bottles of wine, it got me thinking a little more closely about traveling with liquids. I’ve flown enough to know by heart the TSA’s 3 oz. rule; I can recite it as easily as the Star-Spangled Banner. But I’m a light packer and try to avoid bringing liquids home with me, let alone booze, so I’ve never found myself in a similar situation. Plus, my father had had no problem with his whiskey. So I was curious: what had gone wrong with this poor sap and his wine?
The husband in the story seemed to do everything right. He’d bought the wine at a duty-free shop after clearing security at the Rome airport; the bottles were sealed in tamper-free, see-through plastic bags; and he carried them on the plane, as Roman officials instructed him to do. His layover in London’s Heathrow Airport passed without incident. But the husband had another layover to contend with, a domestic one in Dallas-Fort Worth. And this is where he had trouble.
TSA agents at Dallas-Fort Worth told the husband he’d have to check the bottles of wine for his final flight home to Santa Monica, California.
Seriously? So he’d flown almost six thousand miles with bottles of wine essentially in his lap, but for the short 1500 mile flight from Dallas to Santa Monica, he’d have to check them? Yes, and all because of the TSA’s 3 oz. rule, which says you absolutely cannot carry any container of liquid larger than 3 oz. onto a plane originating in the U.S., no matter the destination. (As of this writing, baby products and medical supplies are an exception.) That left the poor guy with three options: pitch the bottles of wine, check them, or have one hell of a party at the airport before his final flight home.
The husband chose to check the wine, and to the airline’s credit, they were helpful with his decision.
But still, the TSA’s liquid rule is confusing and maddening. That’s because the rule raises questions that allow for no simple answers,  has rare exceptions that most people can’t utilize, and is fraught with loopholes that make sense only to the TSA’s brand of logic.
For starters, the TSA’s 3-1-1 liquid rule for carry on luggage goes like this: each passenger is allowed one (1) clear plastic zip-top bag, sized one (1) quart, filled with three (3) ounce bottles (or less) of liquid. Sounds simple enough, right?
But what’s your definition of liquid? Hairspray, glass cleaner, contact lens solution? Obviously liquids. But what about toothpaste? Toothpaste is more of a gel, but the TSA considers it a liquid, so into the quart bag it must go. Same with your hair gel, deodorant and fabric stain stick. All considered liquids. And how are you supposed to fit all your “liquids” into one itty-biddy quart bag? Most people can’t. Guess what? More shit for you to stuff into your checked luggage.
(Here’s one “liquid” that you’re banned from carrying on a plane that most people don’t think of: gel shoe inserts. My husband wears these everyday except on days when he’s traveling. Too much of a hassle to travel with, so he goes without.)
Now, if the subject of the story didn’t need to go through security again in Dallas en route to Santa Monica, he would’ve been in the clear; he probably would’ve been allowed to carry those bottles of wine onto his domestic flight. That’s because the 3 oz. rule is a TSA rule, not the airlines’ or airports’ rule. Without a security checkpoint, who’s to stop him? He could tuck those bottles of wine into a carry-on bag and no gate agent, flight attendant, or any other airline or airport rep would even know. But he did have to go through security again upon arriving from Heathrow (as well as Customs), so he was nabbed by agents and told no way, Jose. He’d have to check that wine or throw it away.
And if the bottles of wine were 3 oz. or less per container? Well, that’s perfectly fine, as long as the bottles would’ve fit inside his one-quart bag. He would’ve been able to sail through security because the wine falls within the TSA’s magic 3-1-1 scenario. But if the 3 oz. bottles of wine didn’t fit inside his zip-top quart bag, he’d be back to where he started. He’d have to check the tiny bottles or throw them away; he’d be adhering to one part of the rule, while breaking another, and that’s a no-no. With the TSA, it’s all or nothing.
Confused yet?  I know, I know. See how maddening the rule can be? The TSA claims it’s working on software that will someday make it possible for us to once again carry liquids onto a plane, thus abolishing the 3-1-1 rule that even the organization itself admits it’s tired of justifying. They even want to get to a point where passengers will be able to keep their shoes on. What a happy day that’ll be. But of course that day isn’t here yet, so what’s a weary passenger to do? Whether it’s wine or whiskey, perfume or stain stick, how can you avoid the 3-1-1 madness?
First off, try like hell to get a non-stop flight. That’s tough to do if you’re flying to/from some far-flung or hard-to-reach area, or if you live in the middle of nowhere. But if you live within a few hours’ drive of a larger airport, like Dulles, Philadelphia, O’Hare, Newark, JFK or LAX, it’s decidedly easier, because those large airports have tons of non-stop, round-trip flights all over the world. (My husband and I flew non-stop from Newark to Beijing in 2009; it was a chaotic three-hour drive to New Jersey and then a grueling 14-hour flight, but it was worth not having to layover or change planes.)  Suck it up and drive to/from a larger airport, staying overnight if need be, to reap the benefits of a non-stop flight. You won’t have to worry about missing a connection, for one thing. But more on topic, you’ll be able to bring home larger containers of liquid without worry (if you’re flying home from an international destination, that is.)
If a non-stop flight isn’t an option (and even if it is), consider buying the liquid toiletries you need once you reach your destination, if possible. On the flip side, on the return flight home, throw out any and all liquids you no longer need before packing your bags. Also, if you absolutely must have that bottle of Paddy Irish whiskey (like my dad did, because it’s not sold in the States) consider having it shipped home. And of course, you could always wait until you get home to buy your booze—or not buy any booze at all.
But what fun would that be?
Got a nightmare TSA or 3-1-1 story you’d like to share? Let’s hear ‘em! While you’re at it, sign up to receive all my travel-related blog posts. They’re frequent enough to keep you in the know, but not too frequent that they clog up your in-box. Sign up to the right.

Know Someone With an Unique or Unusual Job? Pick Their Brain, Then Send 'Em My Way

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I never thought being a novelist was a particularly interesting occupation. The way I see it, I’m just an average person with a side career as a writer, a job just like any other. I may be writing about extraordinary or unique or unusual people doing extraordinary or unique or unusual things, but honestly, my job as novelist—the process itself--is kinda boring.
So imagine my surprise when a few people told me over the past couple of months, while discussing my debut novel The City of Lost Secrets, that they thought writing was a fascinating career. (It’s not, just ask my husband. But thanks for thinking so.)  These same people went all Freud on me, wondering what motivated me to write about biblical archeology, asking how my husband felt about my long mental absences, and drawing conclusions about the autobiographical nature of the book.
It freaked me out at first. I don’t necessarily want people to know certain personal things about me, and I feared that I unknowingly revealed my innermost thoughts through my fiction. But whatever. What did I expect would happen after “putting myself out there” as a creator of fictional worlds and characters? It’s cool though, because these people are now fans of my work and just want to know more about me and the psychology behind it all, so of course I give them honest answers—and continue to let them think being a novelist is the shit.
So while I think “novelist” isn’t exactly the coolest gig in town, I believe there are plenty of truly interesting and unique jobs out there, occupations you just don’t hear about everyday. Like Industrial Hygienist. And Pet Therapist. And Rag Picker (more on that in a minute). And those people who travel around the country firing other people from their jobs, George Clooney “Up in the Air” style. I think the correct job title is Corporate Downsizer.
You don’t bump into people like that everyday who actually do those jobs for a living. Those are the types of people who show up in novels, right? Because let’s be honest: successful books (and movies and TV shows) are populated with interesting people doing interesting things. Lisbeth Salander, the damaged computer hacker goth girl from Stieg Larsson’s books? Yeah, interesting chic, and a character I would’ve given my left arm to have created. Willy Wonka. Harry Potter. Sherlock Holmes. Hannibal Lecter. Interesting characters with unusual jobs.
I mean, no one wants to read about a copier salesman. He’s boring, right? He’s your best buddy. The guy you play poker with on Friday nights. He may be an upstanding citizen and a great family man who makes an honest living but sorry, that’s boring. He’s just an average guy. Nobody wants to read about the average guy with a boring life.
Now, if your best buddy was a copier salesman who had a secret identity…lived a double life as, I don’t know, an undercover government agent who roughed up Russian gangs illegally importing photocopiers…now we’re talking. That’s an interesting guy with a cool story to tell! I’d want to write about him and you’d want to read a story about him (but not necessarily my story).
The show Dexter works on the same premise: A forensics experts who moonlights as a serial killer, hunting down criminals who’ve escaped justice. Interesting guy with an average job and an extraordinary, um, “side job.”
Now, remember earlier when I mentioned the occupation Rag Picker? I watched a show the other day about 19^th century Parisian “rag pickers,” people who made a living rummaging through trash in the streets of Paris to collect it for salvage. Rag picking was a career most prevalent in the 19^th and early 20^th centuries before organized trash collection came about. Here’s a picture I found of what a “typical” Parisian rag picker looked like:

Looks like a guy with an interesting story to tell, right?
Rag pickers still exist, most notably in India and Cairo, Egypt. What instantly grabbed me was the fact that picking through garbage was and still is a noble and honest occupation in some areas of the world. Who knew? Theirs is a story yet to be told, the plight of the rag pickers, and damnit, I’m gonna tell it. I’m going to write an historical drama set in 19^th century Paris about an extraordinary boy born into a filthy world who must overcome great odds in order to realize his true power. It’ll be Oliver Twist meets Benjamin Button. I’m jazzed about it and have already written the first chapter.
I’ll write the rest of that story later, right after I tackle the ones about the industrial hygienist, the pet therapist, and the copier salesman/government spy. Oh, and the eight other novel ideas that are floating around in my head. (But I’ll let the Corporate Downsizer story die—“Up in the Air” is perfect as is.)
So, if you know anyone who has a unique or unusual job, pick their brains. Talk to them. Engage them in conversation. I guarantee they’ve got some awesome stories to tell. And you just might learn a thing or two.
Once you’re done, you’ll sent them my way, won’t you?

Plots and Heroes Are Easy, It's the Bad Guys That Get Me Every Time

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For the past two weeks I've been working on the second book in my Mara Beltane mystery series. Notice I said "working" and not "writing." That's because I'm in brainstorm mode, figuring out the plot and major characters--most notably, the antagonist.

I've got a good handle on the narrative arc and the "good guy" characters. As with the first book, those elements came easily. It's the bad guy who's being a pain in the ass.

I struggled with the antagonist with the first book, too. Every book needs a good guy with a goal and a bad guy that impedes the good guy's progress. That's what gives a book action and plot. I'm proud of THE CITY OF LOST SECRETS, but I do think the antagonist could have been a little stronger, a little more fleshed out. That being said, I need to up the ante with the second book.

I thought I had a lock on who the ultimate baddie would be, but then I realized he's appeared it lots of other books before in my genre, and he's, well, played out. Shame too, because everyone loves to hate the Camerlengo of the Holy Roman Church--the guy responsible for the property and revenue of the Vatican. We love him because of his silent power and his mysterious presence and his ability to run a tight ship. Secretly I think we all want to be that guy. But we hate him because, well, somehow "profit" and "Pope" seem oxymoronic and hypocritical and downright wrong. The papacy shouldn't be a for-profit entity, right? RIGHT? So he was turned into a bad guy because frankly, we didn't know what else to do with him.

But the Camerlengo-as-bad-guy thing is just plain cliche now, so I'll be having none of that in THE CITY OF SACRED BONES. Oh, right. The second book's called THE CITY OF SACRED BONES. Here's a little teaser video:



I've switched gears a bit, let go of the Camerlengo, and latched on to another, better idea for a bad guy. He's connected to the Church, and the Pope, but in a round about way. That's all I'm going to say for now; you'll just have to wait until the book is published to find out who he is. In the meantime, I'll throw you a bone. His official title is "The Custodian." How's THAT for a bad guy name?

How's the Writing Going, You Ask? Well, It's Going

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Holy cow, has it really been since January that I’ve blogged? I’ve no excuses, other than to say I’ve been realllly busy promoting THE CITY OF LOST SECRETS, the publication of which will be celebrating its one-year anniversary in August. And I’ve been sorta busy writing the sequel, THE CITY OF SACRED BONES.

I say “sorta busy” because I must admit I’ve been slacking. The second book requires a lot more research than the first book, and well, I’m just not that into it. The subject itself is fascinating but the time commitment it takes is daunting. That’s my hang up. I’d much rather sit down and write, rather than sit down, research, and THEN write. But it’ll be worth it, because this novel has a lot more action and intrigue and a plot that’s pretty kick-ass, if I don’t say so myself.

So when people ask how the project is going, instead of going off on a tangent about how the research part sucks, and I can’t find the time to do it, bitch bitch bitch, gripe gripe gripe, I simply say, “it’s going.” It’s much easier that way, since no one wants to hear me bitch (they just want to read the damn book already) and because most days I don’t feel like talking about my slacker-ness. I’ve found it’s a win-win that way.

My curt two-word answer does seem a bit insincere, I realize, because if people didn’t care, they wouldn’t ask how the writing’s going. So for those people who persist and ask follow-up questions, I usually give them a little teaser like, “Mara’s been reunited with Uri in Rome, but he just threw her a curve ball and announced they’re going back to Jerusalem to meet with some very high-ranking but elusive people. People whose secrets are protected by none other than the Pope himself.” Or something like that. It only sounds that good in my head. But my verbalized version of that usually elicits an “ooh” or two anyway.

So for those of you who are interested, and who’ve been asking how the writing’s going, I wanted to offer a little bit more than just, “it’s going” and a dangling carrot about the Pope. I want to give you a sneak peak of the first two chapters of THE CITY OF SACRED BONES.

Sign up for my email list or shoot me an email and I’ll send it right out to you.Or you could just wait until I post the excerpt here, although I don’t know when that’ll be….

Oh, and here’s the trailer for it.

Does The TSA's 3 oz. Liquid Rule Still Hold Water?

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I recently returned from a trip to Ireland, which I find to be one of the easiest European countries to travel to. You can fly there non-stop from Philly and the New York airports in as little as six hours, and because Ireland is a very popular American tourist destination, you can sail through customs without hassle.
Flying home from Ireland couldn’t be any easier either. The major airports in Dublin and Shannon have U.S. Customs kiosks right there in the airport; U.S. officials stamp your passport and essentially welcome you back to the U.S. before you’ve even boarded your home-bound flight, eliminating the need for your travel-weary butt to wait in a long customs queue on the other side.
Because of the ease with which I’ve traveled to Ireland in the past, I didn’t even worry when my father (who traveled with us this time) bought two large bottles of Irish whiskey at the Shannon Airport last minute before boarding our flight. As predicted, airline officials waved him and his Paddy onto the plane with no problem.
Talk about a system that works and is user-friendly. (Now how come the rest of the country can’t get its arse in gear?)
So when I recently read about a woman whose husband had an issue returning home from Rome with a few bottles of wine, it got me thinking a little more closely about traveling with liquids. I’ve flown enough to know by heart the TSA’s 3 oz. rule; I can recite it as easily as the Star-Spangled Banner. But I’m a light packer and try to avoid bringing liquids home with me, let alone booze, so I’ve never found myself in a similar situation. Plus, my father had had no problem with his whiskey. So I was curious: what had gone wrong with this poor sap and his wine?
The husband in the story seemed to do everything right. He’d bought the wine at a duty-free shop after clearing security at the Rome airport; the bottles were sealed in tamper-free, see-through plastic bags; and he carried them on the plane, as Roman officials instructed him to do. His layover in London’s Heathrow Airport passed without incident. But the husband had another layover to contend with, a domestic one in Dallas-Fort Worth. And this is where he had trouble.
TSA agents at Dallas-Fort Worth told the husband he’d have to check the bottles of wine for his final flight home to Santa Monica, California.
Seriously? So he’d flown almost six thousand miles with bottles of wine essentially in his lap, but for the short 1500 mile flight from Dallas to Santa Monica, he’d have to check them? Yes, and all because of the TSA’s 3 oz. rule, which says you absolutely cannot carry any container of liquid larger than 3 oz. onto a plane originating in the U.S., no matter the destination. (As of this writing, baby products and medical supplies are an exception.) That left the poor guy with three options: pitch the bottles of wine, check them, or have one hell of a party at the airport before his final flight home.
The husband chose to check the wine, and to the airline’s credit, they were helpful with his decision.
But still, the TSA’s liquid rule is confusing and maddening. That’s because the rule raises questions that allow for no simple answers,  has rare exceptions that most people can’t utilize, and is fraught with loopholes that make sense only to the TSA’s brand of logic.
For starters, the TSA’s 3-1-1 liquid rule for carry on luggage goes like this: each passenger is allowed one (1) clear plastic zip-top bag, sized one (1) quart, filled with three (3) ounce bottles (or less) of liquid. Sounds simple enough, right?
But what’s your definition of liquid? Hairspray, glass cleaner, contact lens solution? Obviously liquids. But what about toothpaste? Toothpaste is more of a gel, but the TSA considers it a liquid, so into the quart bag it must go. Same with your hair gel, deodorant and fabric stain stick. All considered liquids. And how are you supposed to fit all your “liquids” into one itty-biddy quart bag? Most people can’t. Guess what? More shit for you to stuff into your checked luggage.
(Here’s one “liquid” that you’re banned from carrying on a plane that most people don’t think of: gel shoe inserts. My husband wears these everyday except on days when he’s traveling. Too much of a hassle to travel with, so he goes without.)
Now, if the subject of the story didn’t need to go through security again in Dallas en route to Santa Monica, he would’ve been in the clear; he probably would’ve been allowed to carry those bottles of wine onto his domestic flight. That’s because the 3 oz. rule is a TSA rule, not the airlines’ or airports’ rule. Without a security checkpoint, who’s to stop him? He could tuck those bottles of wine into a carry-on bag and no gate agent, flight attendant, or any other airline or airport rep would even know. But he did have to go through security again upon arriving from Heathrow (as well as Customs), so he was nabbed by agents and told no way, Jose. He’d have to check that wine or throw it away.
And if the bottles of wine were 3 oz. or less per container? Well, that’s perfectly fine, as long as the bottles would’ve fit inside his one-quart bag. He would’ve been able to sail through security because the wine falls within the TSA’s magic 3-1-1 scenario. But if the 3 oz. bottles of wine didn’t fit inside his zip-top quart bag, he’d be back to where he started. He’d have to check the tiny bottles or throw them away; he’d be adhering to one part of the rule, while breaking another, and that’s a no-no. With the TSA, it’s all or nothing.
Confused yet?  I know, I know. See how maddening the rule can be? The TSA claims it’s working on software that will someday make it possible for us to once again carry liquids onto a plane, thus abolishing the 3-1-1 rule that even the organization itself admits it’s tired of justifying. They even want to get to a point where passengers will be able to keep their shoes on. What a happy day that’ll be. But of course that day isn’t here yet, so what’s a weary passenger to do? Whether it’s wine or whiskey, perfume or stain stick, how can you avoid the 3-1-1 madness?
First off, try like hell to get a non-stop flight. That’s tough to do if you’re flying to/from some far-flung or hard-to-reach area, or if you live in the middle of nowhere. But if you live within a few hours’ drive of a larger airport, like Dulles, Philadelphia, O’Hare, Newark, JFK or LAX, it’s decidedly easier, because those large airports have tons of non-stop, round-trip flights all over the world. (My husband and I flew non-stop from Newark to Beijing in 2009; it was a chaotic three-hour drive to New Jersey and then a grueling 14-hour flight, but it was worth not having to layover or change planes.)  Suck it up and drive to/from a larger airport, staying overnight if need be, to reap the benefits of a non-stop flight. You won’t have to worry about missing a connection, for one thing. But more on topic, you’ll be able to bring home larger containers of liquid without worry (if you’re flying home from an international destination, that is.)
If a non-stop flight isn’t an option (and even if it is), consider buying the liquid toiletries you need once you reach your destination, if possible. On the flip side, on the return flight home, throw out any and all liquids you no longer need before packing your bags. Also, if you absolutely must have that bottle of Paddy Irish whiskey (like my dad did, because it’s not sold in the States) consider having it shipped home. And of course, you could always wait until you get home to buy your booze—or not buy any booze at all.
But what fun would that be?
Got a nightmare TSA or 3-1-1 story you’d like to share? Let’s hear ‘em! While you’re at it, sign up to receive all my travel-related blog posts. They’re frequent enough to keep you in the know, but not too frequent that they clog up your in-box. Sign up to the right.

Know Someone With an Unique or Unusual Job? Pick Their Brain, Then Send 'Em My Way

To contact us Click HERE

I never thought being a novelist was a particularly interesting occupation. The way I see it, I’m just an average person with a side career as a writer, a job just like any other. I may be writing about extraordinary or unique or unusual people doing extraordinary or unique or unusual things, but honestly, my job as novelist—the process itself--is kinda boring.
So imagine my surprise when a few people told me over the past couple of months, while discussing my debut novel The City of Lost Secrets, that they thought writing was a fascinating career. (It’s not, just ask my husband. But thanks for thinking so.)  These same people went all Freud on me, wondering what motivated me to write about biblical archeology, asking how my husband felt about my long mental absences, and drawing conclusions about the autobiographical nature of the book.
It freaked me out at first. I don’t necessarily want people to know certain personal things about me, and I feared that I unknowingly revealed my innermost thoughts through my fiction. But whatever. What did I expect would happen after “putting myself out there” as a creator of fictional worlds and characters? It’s cool though, because these people are now fans of my work and just want to know more about me and the psychology behind it all, so of course I give them honest answers—and continue to let them think being a novelist is the shit.
So while I think “novelist” isn’t exactly the coolest gig in town, I believe there are plenty of truly interesting and unique jobs out there, occupations you just don’t hear about everyday. Like Industrial Hygienist. And Pet Therapist. And Rag Picker (more on that in a minute). And those people who travel around the country firing other people from their jobs, George Clooney “Up in the Air” style. I think the correct job title is Corporate Downsizer.
You don’t bump into people like that everyday who actually do those jobs for a living. Those are the types of people who show up in novels, right? Because let’s be honest: successful books (and movies and TV shows) are populated with interesting people doing interesting things. Lisbeth Salander, the damaged computer hacker goth girl from Stieg Larsson’s books? Yeah, interesting chic, and a character I would’ve given my left arm to have created. Willy Wonka. Harry Potter. Sherlock Holmes. Hannibal Lecter. Interesting characters with unusual jobs.
I mean, no one wants to read about a copier salesman. He’s boring, right? He’s your best buddy. The guy you play poker with on Friday nights. He may be an upstanding citizen and a great family man who makes an honest living but sorry, that’s boring. He’s just an average guy. Nobody wants to read about the average guy with a boring life.
Now, if your best buddy was a copier salesman who had a secret identity…lived a double life as, I don’t know, an undercover government agent who roughed up Russian gangs illegally importing photocopiers…now we’re talking. That’s an interesting guy with a cool story to tell! I’d want to write about him and you’d want to read a story about him (but not necessarily my story).
The show Dexter works on the same premise: A forensics experts who moonlights as a serial killer, hunting down criminals who’ve escaped justice. Interesting guy with an average job and an extraordinary, um, “side job.”
Now, remember earlier when I mentioned the occupation Rag Picker? I watched a show the other day about 19^th century Parisian “rag pickers,” people who made a living rummaging through trash in the streets of Paris to collect it for salvage. Rag picking was a career most prevalent in the 19^th and early 20^th centuries before organized trash collection came about. Here’s a picture I found of what a “typical” Parisian rag picker looked like:

Looks like a guy with an interesting story to tell, right?
Rag pickers still exist, most notably in India and Cairo, Egypt. What instantly grabbed me was the fact that picking through garbage was and still is a noble and honest occupation in some areas of the world. Who knew? Theirs is a story yet to be told, the plight of the rag pickers, and damnit, I’m gonna tell it. I’m going to write an historical drama set in 19^th century Paris about an extraordinary boy born into a filthy world who must overcome great odds in order to realize his true power. It’ll be Oliver Twist meets Benjamin Button. I’m jazzed about it and have already written the first chapter.
I’ll write the rest of that story later, right after I tackle the ones about the industrial hygienist, the pet therapist, and the copier salesman/government spy. Oh, and the eight other novel ideas that are floating around in my head. (But I’ll let the Corporate Downsizer story die—“Up in the Air” is perfect as is.)
So, if you know anyone who has a unique or unusual job, pick their brains. Talk to them. Engage them in conversation. I guarantee they’ve got some awesome stories to tell. And you just might learn a thing or two.
Once you’re done, you’ll sent them my way, won’t you?