The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, American movie version

Lisbeth Salander does not care what the world thinks of her, nor would she ever fix coffee or breakfast for anyone. She is the hero of Stieg Larsson’s bestselling novel, Man som hatar Kvinnor (Men who Hate Women). The American screenwriter, Steven Zaillian, fails to realize this, while the Swedish screenwriters of the 2009 film, Nikolia Arcie and Rasmussen Heisterberg, got it right on target.

Everyone should read all three books and see all three Swedish movies before they watch the American imitation.

The American film hands too much power to Michael, Lisbeth’s counterpoint. It was LIsbeth who solved the mystery of the bible verses in the book, not Michael. The American film turns that around.

The American director, David Fincher, also takes away one of Lisbeth’s key scenes. When Michael comes looking for Lisbeth, who has been hacking into his computer, he confronts her in her tiny, messy apartment sleeping with her longtime lover, Miriam. In the Swedish version (and in the book), Lisbeth stands there staring hard at the intruder. She does not care what Michael sees, and she allows him to drink spoiled coffee, which he spits out into the sink. The American story has Lisbeth ashamed of her lover and practically cowering, as Michael chases Miriam out. The Swedish LIsbeth would never allow that.

The real Lisbeth would never make breakfast for Michael, either, but strangely, that happens in the American film after they make love for the first time. In the Swedish film, Michael makes the breakfast and Lisbeth wolfs it down.

The worst indignity of this American imitation film is when Lisbeth asks permission to execute the murderer. In the book, Lisbeth allows him to die, but Michael chastises her for it afterwards.

Great acting saves the American film, despite the misogynistic screenplay and bad directing. Thanks to Rooney Mara and Daniel Craig, this film is worth watching. Even Robin Wright is fun to hate. Lisbeth’s costumes are excellent as well.

SCWW Writers Conference

After attending this year's South Carolina Writers Workshop Conference, I walked out refreshed and feeling ready to write. The setting was idyllic -- Myrtle Beach in October, minus the beer drinkers, the teenagers, and the beach slobs of summer. On Saturday I walked the beach near the Hilton Plantation Inn and wished I had a camera, the scenes were so compelling. The setting of a conference can inspire a writer.

My critiques were very helpful this year. The scared young woman who gave me both critiques (Sarah LaPolla) was not the right agent for me, but the advice she gave me was spot-on. Settle on a hook for my memoir. Stick to it. The fact that I'm a freakish writer will only make it more attractive to readers.

Ginny Padgett and her team should be commended for giving us a great time and a relaxing weekend. Even the keynote speaker was good. I haven't read any books by Andrew Gross, but I will be looking for the one about the daughter of the Colombian drug leader.

SECOND NOVEL, FOURTH BOOK

The second novel by Laura Puccia Valtorta (that’s me!) entitled Cavi –a novel about Italy was accepted for publication and distribution on the Infinite Monkeys Publishing website (infinite-monkeys-pub.com). The first four chapters will be published on the website, and the entire novel will be sold as a PDF download for a small fee.

The novel is a comic murder mystery about a small town near Portofino on the Italian Riviera.

Ms. Valtorta, an attorney in Columbia, South Carolina, is the author of Family Meal, a novel published by Carolina Wren Press; Start Your Own Law Practice, published by Entrepreneur Press, and Social Security Disability Practice, published by Knowles Publishing. She is married to Marco Valtorta, and their children are Dante and Clara.

[This is my press release.}

MISTAKES

Dog Lover, a hyperactive, driven person, made a statement on Facebook that he rarely makes the same mistake twice. We were discussing a spelling error, but I got thinking that the word “mistake’ is a fluid term, and I don’t fully understand what it means to “make a mistake.” Here are some of my definitions.

1. LOSING MY WAY. Like taking the wrong Peachtree Street in Atlanta, I often do destructive things that diverge from the pathway to my important goals. Trying to be an okay mother by teaching my children to be responsible and kind. Getting more fiction into print. Writing a decent screenplay. Helping my clients. Appreciating my husband. Calling him “Ocram.” because he’s funny.

Whenever I divert from these goals, I regret it and I don’t regret it at the same time. I see my goals more clearly. Maybe I gain some empathy. I become more human. So where is the mistake?

2. INSULTING PEOPLE. This is my worst mistake. I do it all the time when I feel like a cornered rat. This hurts people unnecessarily. If somebody can show me how to stop, please do. Boxing matches diffuse some of this feeling. (White Rock Boxing needs to welcome me in; I don't care if there's gambling.) Exercise helps. The cornered rat feeling encourages me to exercise. And exercise is good.

3. BREAKING A RULE. One of the rules in practicing law is that an attorney should never represent a friend. It’s a basic conflict of interest. You love your friends, and the emotion gets in the way of the law.

I broke this rule at least three times. The first time, things turned out well. The second time, it was the most disastrous case of my career and nearly destroyed me. The third time, I won the case easily and cleverly, and my friendship grew stronger. Which of these was a mistake? I learned tons from the second and third experiences.

4. MAKING THE WRONG CHOICE. When I worked out at Crooked Creek Park it was the wrong choice. The people there were too old. The clientele was very homogenous. I got bored easily and reverted to mistake number 2 – insulting people. But while I was there, I lost 35 pounds out of sheer boredom. So was it a mistake? Not likely.

Maybe the definition of mistake is “learning experience.”

Modern Day Christmas

By Dante B. Valtorta (December 2010)

Families joyfully running around

Claiming to keep the Christmas tradition in mind

Instead wanting everything they can get

PS3s, Xbox 360s, and Kinects

People getting money, a small portion are having to work

Others eat dinner and see movies

Families running around

Claiming to keep the Christmas tradition in mind.

BEELZEBUBBA

By Laura P. Valtorta (11/21/2010)

Supporter of States’ Rights,

God, and Football,

(Not in that order),

He

wears his hat indoors,

hiding thinning graying hair

of Cherokee

denied (Oh, God, make me White)

and the flat slant-eyed

Face,

Drinker of microbrew,

Shadow mind that craves the outdoors

tree-hugger, pen of dogs

“My Wife is Blond and

so are my raven-haired kids.”

Weekends he gets away in Volkswagen

Bus (it’s okay if my

Friends smoke weed, and me,

but not the Northern

Liberal Rival Devil)

Also countrybred,

Who

Pays taxes, no questions

Revels in my Diversity denied;

Make me White, God, Please make me

Superior.

ALL OUR PARANOIA

The most poignant thing about “The Social Network,” directed by David Fincher and written by Aaron Sorkin, is that the chief inventor of Facebook, Mark Zuckerberg (brilliantly potrayed by Jesse Eisenberg), is a social failure. He can’t stop belittling people, especially the people he loves such as his girlfriend and his best buddy, and intellectual snobbery controls his life. Zuckerberg has valid reasons for his condescending attitude: he’s a computer genius with insight into what drives society. He’s brilliant on line. He just can’t play the game on the street.

After a Wednesday Movie Nite, my group had a heated discussion about who deserved the profits from Facebook. Obviously, Zuckerberg drives the inception of the company. But the movie clearly illustrates that Eduardo Saverin plays a roll, as does Sean Parker (Justin Timberlake), possibly my favorite character, who fresh from the collapse of Napster, has a vision for how Facebook should grow nationally and internationally, and where seed money can be found. He’s a lush and a degenerate with vision and brains.

My friends disagreed about the Winklevoss brothers – rowing team giants at Harvard, identical twins, gentlemen with a load of family money, and the slapstick clowns of the story. Did they deserve credit for coming up with part of an idea at the beginning – an internet social network limited to Harvard students? And what about their Indian friend, Divi? None of my movie-fanatic friends liked these characters. There is a prejudice against old money in the United States, because we Americans are all supposed to be self-made. But rich people can have ideas, even if they don’t know how to program.

“The Social Network” operates well at many levels, first as a story of technology and new business, secondly as a psychology lesson. It highlights the mistakes, fears, and paranoia of all these entrepreneurs. The movie is personal. I saw myself in every one of the characters. I felt every triumph and catastrophe in my gut. I delved inside these characters, despite their blatant misogyny. I wish I could friend them all on Facebook.