The Diary of Queen Mothy |
Mish-Mosh-Mash written @ 12:45 PM on January 07, 2004 With a shudder of tingling horror, I realized this morning that I'll be in classes by this coming Monday. I sighed with a feeling of hopelessness, cursing man's invention of time, and then began today-- like every other day this winter break-- being completely useless. Actually, I've been up to my old tricks. Sheer boredom has given me cause to finish the second book in my novel series and dive about forty pages into Book Three in about two day's time. Here we must pause and reflect on Hemingway's work method: the man, whilst suffering from beaucoup de hangovers, would get up at an ungodly hour every morning, crank out at least thirty pages for his latest novellas, then go party. There you have it, friends: another footnote from Sam's Encyclopedia of Useless Information. In between penning my own masterpiece, I finished reading Phillipa Gregory's The Favored Child, which is the second book in her Wideacre triology. You'll remember I reviewed Wideacre this fall, but here's a quick recap: set in Gregorian England when women had only the rights their husbands dealt them, Beatrice Lacey, the daughter of a Sussex squire, will stop at nothing to gain control of the estate, including (are you ready for this?) conspiring to kill her father, getting pregnant off her brother, stealing her husband's fortune to pay off the entail of the land and... well... I'll not spoil the ending, but rest assured she gets what's coming to her. I consider myself a literary whore, and I have to say the story surprised me with all its twists and complications which would have shocked Anne Rice, methinks, so, naturally, I had to pick up the second book. The second book follows Beatrice's kids, Julia and Richard, who don't know they are sister and brother. They are raised by Beatrice and Harry Lacey's spouses, John and Celia, who try to raise Julia and Richard to be responsible members of gentry and care properly for Wideacre and its people, all the while shading them from the dark recent past. Julia, however, has gained Beatrice's magic touch for the land while Richard inherits Beatrice's madness... And let's just say the ending is very sad. Go read it yourself. Which brings me to book number three. Meridon, Julia's daughter, is raised by gypsies, knows nothing of her gentry birth, and has dreams of a place called Wide. While I have not yet finished Meridon, I give the Sam Stamp of Approval on the Wideacre Trilogy and hats off to its author. *** During my attempts to be constructive, I'm steadily perfecting my designs for A Piece of My Heart, opening night being in March. I have the main design pretty much nailed on the head, but I'm trying to figure out material particulars. For instance, I want to incorporate cargo nets as used in the U.S. military, but a quick search on-line hinted that NKU's budget might not cover seven 12x12' nets. I'm in search of alternative materials, from everything to playground netting to burlap. What the world of theater needs, I've concluded, is an encyclopedia of useful materials. Those in the know would say, "Gee, Sam, why don't you just turn to The Backstage Handbook?" Very true. But when you leave the Bible of theater tech back at your dorm room, you become frustrated for alternatives. *** Finally boredom got the best of me last night, so I pondered calling up members of The Posse to go see a movie. I began looking at reviews on Yahoo! and came across the lastest Peter Pan flick. Generally, the reviews were pretty good. Something caught my eye, however, about the "sexual tension" between The Pan and Wendy, and some sort of triangle between the aforementioned and Hook, and I said, "What the hell kind of a Peter Pan is this?!" Freud would have a field day! So now curiosity has gotten the best of me, and I think I may phone The Posse-- assuming I get my lazy arse in gear-- and see what the dilly-yo is with this movie. *** A blast from the past e-mailed me a few days ago for the first time in years, my old best buddy from the Jersey hood, Deana! We suffered through junior high and Catholic education together (you may laugh now) and almost engaged in fist-fights on the basketball court (because we lived in South Jersey and we were badasses!). So it looks like now we've regained touch, and she'll be moving into Christine and my Victorian mansion when we're 70 years old and own fifty cats and wear purple turbans. It's odd, though, because I was just thinking about her the day before she e-mailed me. And last year around this time when my best friend in Pittsburgh finally got in contact with me, I had the same premonition of talking to her. And this year I predicted a not-so-distant cousin from New England would contact me with genealogy information. I tell you, squirrelx's shine is rubbing off on me! *** Listening to: The Patriot soundtrack, composed by John Williams Thinking about: My honny, Heath Ledger, who starred in The Patriot. Goal of the hour: To terrorize my cats for a while.
A Bit of History ~ And Onward! L'Amour Toujours! - August 08, 2005 |
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