Things Change

There are many aspects to publishing a book that I did not expect. Not that strange as it is my first, but in all that time imaging the process, there are a number of things that I did not foresee. Most disquieting is the constantly shifting finish line: much of that can be attributed to my neurotic "writerly" tendencies, which manages to hate giving up the text for review but can't wait for an opportunity to edit. As much as I love to cut and craft sentences of mine, I have endured a strange dislocation when turning in the manuscript (Finished!) only to be reminded that of the editorial process (Not so fast, bub!).

And thank God for that process. So far, it has resulted in correcting the following issues:

• first editorial pass of the manuscript reveals more than a few tortured and convoluted sentences meant, I can only imagine, to impress people with my vocabulary and syntactical prowess, but that instead lead to confusion and frustration in the reader: also abandoned was my theory that the entire second season was a dream of Don Draper's ... and I really thought I was on to something
  
• second editorial pass from the proofreader reveals my unfamiliarity with the Chicago Manual of Style, despite the presence of said tome next to my desk: in all fairness, it's a really big manual and I'm really lazy: upside is I learn the meaning and power of the word "stet" and wedge it into everyday conversation (for audience reaction, see "confusion and frustration" above)
• third pass from the typesetter exposes a pathetic reliance on "typecasting" in the cast bios, as if that is the only spine on which to build the body of someone's life and work: I also discover that I have a bizarre reliance on the phrase "pop culture landscape", as if I am the Mercator of unauthorized television guides

Perhaps just as interesting to me (and possibly nobody else) is how the book has changed from pitch to publication. Notably, there are a few things I wanted to cover in the book that I didn't. They are almost all in the realm of literary reference and context, and I admit that I wish I'd had the time to cover Sloan Wilson's The Man in the Gray Flannel Suit and W.H. Auden's The Age of Anxiety (although the latter would have been quite a stretch, refracted through the title bestowed on the works of Richard Yates). I also didn't write a chapter on the Gaslight Cafe, as I felt it was too season one centered, and the same with a proposed chapter on the mainstream acceptance of psychoanalysis.

Oddly, the one thing that didn't change for me was the title of the book. Fortunately, it wasn't until well after writing the book that I realized how close the title was to an autobiography by advertising legend David Ogilvy. I'd like to say I was savvy enough to hope for accidental search engine hits, but that'd be a bald-faced lie.

I did craft a list of possible title alternatives. I think you'll agree I was right not to change it.

Madison Avenue Swells
The Show in the Gray Flannel Suit
Madison Avenue Freak-Out (for when the series hits the late sixties)
Ring-a-Ding-Ding: The Cool Cats & Kittens of "Mad Men"
How to Succeed in Advertising Without Really Mussing Your Hair
Kings of Madison Avenue, Princes of Sterling Cooper

Matthew Weiner Spills Everything About "Mad Men Season 3" (not really)!

Rolling Stone has just posted an interview with show creator Matthew Weiner. Of course, it is more about summing up the previous two seasons than anything else, but in between the lines there is a sense of the upcoming direction of Mad Men.

I'm always struck by the big-picture take he has on American history, in particular his ability to separate the ironic aspect of the viewer to the present-tense take of the characters. He's right about personal drama superseding global tragedy: I remember on September 11th that I worried more about my mother trying to fly home from Mexico than just about anything else. Gloom regarding the horrific devastation settled in shortly on the 12th.

On a personal note, I'm glad to read Weiner's last comment about the end of "The Jet Set" episode, a point I make myself in Kings of Madison Avenue. Nyah!

Answering unasked questions.

There might be a few of these that you might have with regard to a book like Kings of Madison Avenue. In an act of supreme generosity (or is it hubris?), I have taken the liberty of asking and answering a few in one fell swoop.

I will have this Q&A take the form of me interviewing myself. It keeps things light and airy, plus I love the sound of my own voice.


JM: What lead you to write this book?

JM: Good question. Really, top notch.

JM: Why thank you. I spent a lot of time working on that lead question ... direct but chatty, nothing too heavy right out of the gate.

JM: Well, bravo. And nice shirt, by the way.

JM: The stripes, right? So slimming!

JM: I wrote the book first and foremost as a fan of Mad Men. It's a series that is written and directed quite elegantly, but is also chock full of historical and cultural references that demand further investigation. I grew tired of spending so much time looking in disparate places for the information I wanted, so I tried to find one book that might contain it all. When I couldn't find it, I wrote it.

JM: You know, I don't used the word 'brave' often ...

JM: But when the shoe fits ...

JM: Why an "unofficial" companion guide?

JM: It's sexier when you don't have permission, don't you think?

JM: Scamp!

JM: Guilty as charged! No, in truth it's a matter of speed and efficacy. The hoops one has to jump through to write an official version of this book would delay publication by years, even if it was actually approved. Also, there would be a great many more masters to serve with such a beast.

But here's the other thing: with an official book, you could look forward to an episode guide that is a recitation of plot and nothing else. When writing a book like mine that kind of thing is off limits, so what you get is more in-depth analysis of each episode. It's more work to be certain, but it leads to a greater reading experience.

JM: Genius.

JM: An overused word, but apt.

JM: Why Mad Men?

JM: I think I covered that quite well in the first question. I said that it is "written and directed quite elegantly" and I think that about covers it. Were you paying attention?

JM: All right, take it easy. I'm just trying to get a sense of you, the author.

JM: No personal questions.

JM: I'm just curious how you--

JM: No questions with the word "you" in them.

JM: How would ... one ... go about writing a book like ... one ... has?

JM: It's a calling. Such a book is an opportunity to utilize a personal history steeped in navigating the pop culture landscape and pair it with a lifelong yen for learning. As I believe most fans of the show are cut from a similar cloth, this book is a natural fit for a yawning void.

JM: Rapid fire portion of the interview. One word questions, one word answers. Ready?

JM: Hit me.

JM: Two words, disqualified. No points.

JM: Wait ... points?

JM: Hat?

JM: Fedora.

JM: Drink?

JM: Scotch.

JM: Purple?

JM: Vestments.

JM: Abbott?

JM: Lewis.

JM: Lightning round ends.

JM: How'd I do?

JM: (tallying score) I'll post it on the wall after final period.

JM: Nuts.

JM: Any last words to people you think might like your book?

JM: I'll go you one better. Not only is it a great read with terrific sidebar sojourns into the cultural and historial context of the show, it also makes a great gift for anyone you know who's a fan. So go out and buy two!

JM: You're a shameless whore.

JM: What happened to us? This started off so well ...

JM: You're like a steeping cup of green tea, McLean: you start well enough but always finish off bitter.

JM: Ouch. Accurate ... but ouch.

JM: Until we meet again.

AMC Takes Credit for an Easy Out

There was much ballyhoo when AMC announced that Mad Men would contain two more minutes of commercials in season three. The initial response from the faithful was one of shock and horror. Fans of canceled shows may have thought this a great problem to have, but two minutes less of a show known for it's languid pace could leave the devoted feeling shortchanged by the end of one of these brisker episodes. Of all the outcries, this one from go-to Mad Men blog Basket of Kisses summarizes the issue elegantly. Who would want to do without Don's Carousel speech just for more ad time? Not even Don, I would think.

This decision by AMC put show creator Matthew Weiner in an awkward position: certainly he would want to fight against efforts to curtail his show, but when that show is built on an appreciation for the best advertising has to offer, quarreling about greater ad content could come off as disingenuous at best and snide at worst.

Luckily, Weiner benefits again from airing his show outside of the major network structure. Certainly it was no surprise that AMC came up with a compromise that pleases everybody, and a good thing that they have the elastic airing schedule that allows them to simply let the show run past 11pm. Creator is happy, fans are happy, advertisers are happy. AMC emerges as the good guy. Right?

It is a decision that is easy for AMC to make and look good for making. But did they really have a choice? Negotiations for Weiner's return as show-runner took longer than expected (although, as Don tells Roger about the Cuban Missile Crisis: "We don't know what's really going on. You know that.") and while they may have played some political brinkmanship in an effort to get the best possible deal, there was never a real doubt that Weiner would sign to return. But from a PR perspective, is there anyway they could be seen as forcing the creator of their signature show into a position of artistic compromise?

The interesting thing about this move is that AMC gets to take credit as the great compromiser, all for a decision that major networks make anyway. Not that any of the Big Three (I still refuse to look at Fox as anything other than an upstart--call me old fashioned) let shows air past their scheduled run-time as a standing order, but it does happen. I can't tell how many times I've had difficulty programming one show on my ExpressVu receiver because the previous show's end-time is listed at one minute past the top of the hour. I can't help but see this as anything other than an attempt to stem the tide of switchovers from a strong lead-in to a fledgling show.

In the end, everyone is happy and we all get to enjoy Mad Men in it's full glory come August 16th. And I suppose that's enough to give AMC a pass on this one. But barely.

"Mad Men" Season Three Set Pic - Spoilers?

I don't think this shot will spoil the upcoming season too much, although it does give us a good sense of when the series picks up. Outside of any dream sequence/flashback excuse, I would guess we're looking at the middle of 1963. This leads me to believe that we'll see the JFK assassination well-covered this year. Some might think this a natural backdrop, but much of the history covered in the show so far is subtler (the Jamaica Bay plane crash) and less era-defining (the Cuban Missile Crisis notwithstanding).

Jon Hamm looks good 'n dapper (although with the JFK context in mind, there's a menace to his hat that reminds me of Jack Ruby), and January Jones looks like a dollop of pink meringue (if such a thing exists).

I don't know who the guy with the shades and Sharpie necklace is -- the Drapers new au pair boy?

Picture courtesy of community.livejournal.com by way of Buzzfeed where you can find more. Well, one more.

AMC's "Mad Men" Continues TV's Legacy of Poorly Representing the Mentally Ill

An op-ed piece I wrote before realizing the show was actually set in the 1960s. How embarrassing.

To: AMC Exectives
Re: The oak-panelled asylum presented on your Mad Men television atrocity

Dear sirs (and I use that term lightly),

When will Hollywood's efforts to marginalize the mentally ill ever end? For too long have we suffered through representations that veer from the cuddly (My Name is Bill) to the demonic (I Am Sam). Now we are "treated" to a weekly excursion into the laughably ill-informed depiction of those who struggle with mental illness. Rampant sexism? African-American servants? Mental institutions are government run, gentlemen. None of those activities have happened in one since George Bush Sr. was in the White House. And I'm not even going to touch the whole smoking indoors thing.

This cavalier attitude is best displayed in your choice of title: Mad Men? Do you know how long the mentally ill have fought to elude this sort of label? Anyone with a mental health issue is suddenly "mad", like the inmates of a decrepit 18th century asylum. Is your take on this issue solely informed by Amadeus and Quills?

Have you gentlemen not learned your lesson from other films that have engaged in shameless "insanity" bashing (not to be confused with "Insanibash", my favorite bathroom cleanser)? Or have you forgotten what you should have learned from that movie? You know what I'm talking about. You've clearly seen it and cribbed from it without compunction, and I think it is well past time you admitted your plagiarism, a crime almost as craven as your treatment of the insane.

Yes. I'm talking about Crazy People starring Dudley Moore and Daryl Hannah. For shame.

It was released in 1990 and clearly held sway over a young Matthew Weiner when concocting his episodic travesty. Oh, you're going to play coy? A film about an advertising executive who has a nervous breakdown and only then starts authoring so-honest-it's-irresistible ad copy? Come on. The only different between Dudley Moore and Jon Hamm is about three feet. Otherwise, they're feathers from the same cuckoo bird. Which is I'm sure how you would put it.

The plot twist introduced later in the film also bears strongly on your inexplicably accolade-ridden show: Dudley Moore brings fellow inmates along with him to the advertising company and they all start writing bluntly honest copy. The only difference is that writer Mitch Markowitz and director Tony Bill thought to give each of these by-rote misfit characters their own issues; on your show, they all think they're stuck in the 1960s. At least the film had originality going for it.

I insist that you withdraw this loathsome show from your airwaves and put on something that takes on the issue of mental illness with more intelligence and tact, like Obsessed or Two and a Half Men.

The truly "mad men" of the world will thank you.

How to watch "Mad Men" like a Mad Man

No surprise that there is a difference watching a show for entertainment and for reference. Before Kings of Madison Avenue (heretofore referred to as KoMA), I watched the series by savoring each episode like a gourmet, luxuriating in each morsel before moving on to the next course.
However, With a looming deadline I switched to a ravenous gourmand, gorging on multiple plates at a time, stuffed and over-sated, trying to squeeze in just one more episode as it is only "wafer thin".

These are periods of my life that I now call pre- and post-KoMA, with the latter sometimes resulting in a KoMA-induced stupor. (Note to self: a real Mad Man would cringe before making that kind of "joke".)

The closest I came to enjoying Mad Men in a manner befitting the series was when I sat down at my PVR to watch the entire second season in one go. Excited at the prospect, and not a little daunted at having to produce a manuscript shortly thereafter, I hit upon an idea. I had just thrown a birthday party for my wife and found a good amount of alcohol left over from the fete. The bulk of this liquid joy was in the form of wine (as a child, you bring bottles of pop to a birthday party; as a grown-up, it's wine), but one good friend thought out of step with the rest and brought two mickeys of whiskey, one scotch and one irish. For this, I am eternally grateful. Not only because it provided a great context in which to watch my favorite show, but because wine gives me indigestion.

Careful to pace myself, I topped off a glass and sat down to a full day of viewing. Unfortunately, I'm not much of a drinker, so I had to cut the whiskey with Coke, an action that has moved the good friend who brought the whiskey to cease all communications in protest (damned purists).

With this in mind, and the third season just around the corner, I offer a few options on proper Mad Men-watching activities.

1. Drink up! If you're a real man/woman who can handle booze (this discounts me), I'd suggest you drink it Old Fashioned, just like Don Draper. I tried this at the outset of watching the second season, but by the time I came to everyone on screen was fretting about the Cuban Missile Crisis and I had to start again the following day.

2. Light up! Smoking seems a natural, but I cannot in good conscience recommend this. Most viewing rooms are tight, enclosed spaces and this would be awful for any roommates or partners who may not enjoy filling their lungs with tar. Either save it for the end of each episode (a perfect time and manner in which to reflect on what you've just seen) or, if you can't stem your craving for more than fifty-plus minutes, set up your television room in the backyard. Or a nearby park. Or a forest.

3. Dress up! Comfort is always key in watching television, but would it kill you to put a crease in those khakis? A nice, crisp white shirt would go a long way, to say nothing of a sweet skinny tie. Again, I got this wrong the first few times I watched the show, opting for a bathrobe and track pants. And given that I watched the majority of season one on the subway via iPod, this was not well received by
those around me.

4. Shut up! Seriously. The show is on. There will be plenty of time to talk after.