My mother was born to run

In 2007 I wrote a little tribute post about my step-mommy, and in 2010 one about my dad, and I've long meant to do one about my mother and my brother. Since my mother and I just had a big fight last night, I figure it's the right time to do this post. It's probably the hardest one cause (a) we're mother and daugher, and (b) we've lived in different provinces since I was in grade 4. So this is a long one folks. You might want to spread it over 2 days.

PART I
 
Same-a-tude
My mother and I have really similar communication styles, so we've always been capable of Fights of Heightened Emotion. We even agreed once, after a fight in my teens, that sometimes we're too similar and saying the same thing. And we still do this. We try to say the same thing, or very similar things, or we say them in the same way, and then we misunderstand each other in the same way, and then we get defensive in the same way.

I watch reality shows with her and find myself exclaiming in the same way, using her lingo or body language. And the longer we're in the same house, the more we pick up each others' mannerisms. There's a lot of "I was just about to say that!" It's a weird mix of nature and nurture.

Momminess
My mother had my brother at the age of 18, and me three years later. So I'm not particularly critical of my parents--they were ridiculously young, and didn't have much money. My mother wasn't raised in a low-income household though, so it's interesting to look back at all the homemade things she made. These had to have come just from her own imagination, and they were so fun we didn't feel deprived.

My first nursery school paint smock was homemade. And though she got me a real Wonder Woman one the next year, she bought WW iron-ons to make me matching book bags. My brother loved the Fantastic Four and I can still see, in my mind, the hand made birthday invitations she made featuring The Thing. (She had to draw all those little rocks.)

We have a pic of my brother and I as very creditable Batman and Robin at Halloween. Another year I had a favorite book about three princesses, and though no one knew the book, I excitedly wore the costume she made me (a white empire waist dress). We moved to a different city with our dad when I was in grade 4, but my mother asked me what I wanted to be for Halloween (a gypsy) and made me all the needed pieces and mailed them to me.

Long Distance Mothering
Though we lived in different cities as of grade 4, she never stopped making efforts to still Mother From Afar. The after-school chats happened with my step-mother, but when Swiss Girl was going through big boyfriend drama, we would get on the phone with my mother and get her wisdomly advice. When my friends dumped me in grade 9 and it took me the whole summer to process, my mother was the penultimate stop on The Recovery Train.

My mother taught me friendship etiquette. She taught me not to make fun of overweight people, or gay people, or other ethnicities whose homes and clothes might smell different. She taught me feminism. She taught me how to read people, and connect with them, and pull info from them.

Taste
In my early teens I idolized my mother. There were no Day-to-Day-Annoyance flies in the ointment so she had enormous influence over my taste and opinions. For years I felt slightly guilty when I bought brown-beige toned clothes cause she'd convinced me I looked best in jewel tones. It became a tradition to get a haircut before visiting her, cause if I arrived with shaggy hair (my hair grows fast) she'd haul me to the hair salon toute suite.

My jazz ballet costume she had to sew.

She wasn't a Taste Dictator (she's confirmed that since childhood no one could tell me how to dress.) She would just express her opinions in a forthright manner, and then leave me space to be myself.



Though my mother mostly likes thriller/mystery novels, action movies, and Bruce Springsteen type rock, while I'm the classic I-like-every-genre! Gemini, I still formed a lot of my taste by picking through her album collection (Stevie Nicks's Bella Donna, Prince's 1999, Kate & Anna McGarrigle's Love Over and Over) and by watching the movies she told me to watch (7 Brides for 7 Brothers, A Room With a View, The Thin Man.)

When I was picking out images to put on my collage earlier this year, I sometimes had to stop and ask myself: Am I picking this out authentically for me (a lorgnette), or because it reminds me of my mother (animal prints)? There's some weird ways in which I can't tell where one of us stops and one of us starts.


PART II


Differences
As I got older I naturally had to separate out from her. Never as rebellion--I rebelled against peers, not parents--but by slowly noticing that some of the things that excited me (Shakespeare!) were not her bag. Which was weird to me. I thought we liked everything the same! I had to start keeping the Shakespeare and Oscar and Bernard lurv to myself. The Kate Bush and Tori Amos that hurt her ears. I bought the taupe clothes I loved (and received compliments on them!) I didn't have to like every movie she liked (Dirty Dancing.) I joined the church my dad & steppy were going to.

I saw how (and we discussed it) my mother liked to learn by direct experience, whereas I was willing to Let Others Be an Example. In my late teens she once called me an old soul. After the divorce she did the things she never got to do when 20--she partied! and drank! and danced! In my 20s I wrote novels, and annually watched the Star Wars trilogy, and had long spiritual debates with my dad.

I realized that my mother was a risk taker, and I was risk averse. I make "stove top" decisions, I let ideas simmer on back burners til they feel ready. Is that the Right Way? I don't know... it's just my way. I went back to school for my MA too late for the big teaching hiring window that opened in the 1990s. It's never my style to regret these big decisions; maybe I would have ended up teaching English Lit and hating it. As opposed to now where I don't have a teaching job, but boy did I enjoy getting my degrees in Political Science!

But the point is after my last job where I stayed too long in a rut, I decided to revise my Risk Level and move a little bit along the spectrum. My mother's Level of Acceptable Risk makes me uncomfortable, but that's not because there's something wrong with her. These are all neutral qualities, they are both strengths and weaknesses, and it's just what we do with the fallout that matters. Risk takers get big wins, and big losses; risk aversers have less emergencies, but get stuck in deadening ruts.

Brat Pack sandwich.

Drama!
The risk difference might make me uncomfortable, and she picks up on that, but that doesn't mean I don't also admire it. I worry about her and it comes out looking like criticism, like I don't have faith in her.

Just like all those homemade birthday invitations and Halloween costumes, my mother is endlessly resourceful. She knows all the places to buy discounted tile, lighting and paint; good second hand appliances and tools; free carpets and sofas. My mother has vision, and taste, and brilliant ideas. But she's had some serious health problems that outstripped her ability to carry out all her dreams and plans. That's where my worry would come in. Not because she isn't imaginative and creative and capable of making big things happen; but because I knew her body wasn't going to cooperate.

So we get a bit of the-drama-pajama. I worry about her because of the projects--health gap, and it comes off like I think she's *failing*; and she's frustrated by the projects--health gap, and that emotion ramps up my worry.

And But So
Here's the interesting thing. I've been here two months--that's the longest we've lived together since I was a teenager. We're both struggling with depression and stress because of our own Life Challenges.
 But we've only had 2-3 contre-temps and one blow up. The nastiest we've gotten? Co-accusations of being wusses, and one "fuck off" each.

I know about Other People's Mothers. I count myself very, very blessed.

Because most nights we've sat on the couch and made jokes and laughed hard. We've developed inside jokes. We've bonded over cats and dogs. We've gotten weepy together over reality shows. We've gotten into heavy deep conversations. Talked and talked. She thanks me for painting her room (4 f*cking coats it took!) and for fixing a burst pipe (see future blog post.) She records my TV shows. Despite her recovering-bionic-knee she takes the dogs out when my plantar fasciitis is bad. She comforts me when I'm homesick and tries to think up jokes when soldering is kicking my ass (see future blog post.)

My mother never told me I was getting fat, or that I was ugly, or useless, or boring. I was pretty, original, creative and intelligent. And one of the things I've most appreciated is that she was a fan of my writing from day one. Not in a generic "that's wonderful honey!" way, but with specific feedback. She made me feel like I had talent, that I could get better, that I could *make it.*

I don't know if I do as much for her. But my mother is indeed stylish, and pretty, with bright sparkly eyes and a gregarious and friendly manner to everyone she meets. She has library, and law degrees, she's very intelligent, and she's handy. She cries for the hard luck cases making their dreams come true on America's Got Talent. She has infinite compassion for our fellow creatures, from her beloved Brat Pack...

Checking their pee-mail.

 to Felix the Slug (see future blog post.) For years she fostered and loved many battered dogs and brought them back to a place of trust so they could find new homes; or she kept and comforted them until they died.

For all our different approaches to life, both of us have towered over in our separate corners. We're on the same side of the war here. And though we argue over rations and cigarettes, I am, as ever, happy to share a foxhole together.
   

 MUSIC FOR THE DAY If you opened my mother's soul, this is what you'd find...

Life is short--cartoons are long

I'm in the middle of too many books! I started a book by aboriginal author Thomas King, and then I bought my next frog-read by Brussel Sprout, but then remembered I had to read Lani Diane Rich's first book cause they talked about it last Sunday and I wanted to read it before the discussion so I started that, and then a book I reserved at the library came in!

The library book is winning cause it's a graphic novel, won't take me long. I'm halfway done but I don't think it's too early to start praising it. I wrote in November about one of my fave graphic novelists, Guy Delisle, and now I'm reading his latest about Jerusalem. It's a great book for showing daily life in the Palestinian areas, Arab quarters, Jewish settlements, and so forth.

And since Delisle doesn't know a lot about the politics of the area, it's a pretty good primer. I can't recommend it enough. It might even be available at your library cause I think it's been a big seller. ...Maybe even available in Red states! given its subject matter.

I scanned the first cartoon for you cause I think it really sums up his style. He gets a lot across in very few panels, few words. They'll be bigger if you click on them (you might need to open them in a new window, Bloggers' viewer makes them still too small.)

There's a solution

Something Ms Brownlow wrote in an email that I thought I'd share. We were actually talking about plumbing problems at the time but, you know... applies in situations both big and small, concrete and emotional.

at the moment when one just might want to panic, that instant when you realize you're up against it or you're in a very dangerous situation and people around you might be beginning to freeze or to shout unhelpful things [like 'we're all going to die!'], the thing to always do is take a deep breath and assume as an absolute matter of faith that there is a way out, there is a solution, and then you look for it!  You simply begin to search your surroundings calmly to see where it is.  You have no idea what it might be or where, but you know it's there and you know that you'll recognize it when you see it.  And you do not let your faith waiver.  I learned to do that every single time, and the proof that it works is that I'm still here. 

Everything I learned about storytelling I learned from... reality shows?

Storywonk Daily is a podcast mostly for writers, but really for anyone who wants to study story telling in any form. They podcast once a week, but used to do it daily and I've been listening to their backlist while dog walking. I wish I'd kept notes about which ones were my faves so I could give you a top 10, but I can tell you what my #1 fave has been so far: Learning from Reality TV

I'd never thought about learning story craft from reality shows. How if you put a bunch of interesting people together (characters) and give them a goal that they want more than anything else in the world (plot) and make it time sensitive and throw all these challenges and twists at them (tension, conflict) you are bound to get great stories! We love our favorite reality shows when they tell us great stories.

Which makes them a great way to study your craft. The show Lani and Alastair talked about was Masterchef which I've never seen, but this past month my mum and I have been watching pvr'ed episodes of The Voice and I watched it in a new way.

Below are some of the things I learned, but if it's too much to read I do recommend listening to the podcast episode, it's 30 minutes. And if you enjoy it here's a further posting about the "characters" of Masterchef. Lani and Alastair, who are husband and wife, and cute and charming and great teachers. I highly recommend Storywonk's backlist, and their new Storywonk Sunday. I also downloaded Lani's $10 course on structure, it's excellent.

How The Voice Season 2 was good story!

Your book should be about the most important event in a protagonist's life: which is exactly what the contestants said over and over again. Even when they didn't win, it was always a life changing experience. And even though they all had the same goal, it meant something different to them.

The artist Jamar used to be a drug addict and is HIV positive and was rejected by American Idol, so to him this was an Underdog Story: If I Can Make It Anyone Can. For someone else it was about proving he could be more than a backup singer; for another it was making it in the male world of rockers; for another it was about paying back his wife for putting up with his music career all this time. These were their points of vulnerability, and gave us reasons to root for them.

Character is always at the heart: That's why in good reality shows we're passionate about our favorites, and devastated when they're kicked off. On Storywonk they talk about: Strength, weakness, and vulnerability--the sort of trinity of strong character. We knew Jamar's weakness (the drugs), his strength (incredible singer), and vulnerability: His big ole open heart. While the other contestants looked excited and amazed to be there on the show, he looked excited and amazed to be alive. Like this:

 

Naturally we all rooted for him like mad, and that's (usually) how you want your audience to feel about your protagonist.

Your protagonist should grow and change, and they need to show vulnerability because that's how the audience connects with them. The winner this year was a man named Jermaine who used to be a backup singer for Alicia Keys. The artists get to pick which of the four coaches they want (Cee Le Green, Adam from Maroon 5, Christina Aguilera, or Blake Shelton.) Even though Jermaine's a soul singer, he surprised us by choosing country artist Blake. He came off as arrogant at first, but the humble and gentle Blake was the perfect guide figure.

Jermaine blossomed from a backup singer (Generic Soul Dude) to a frontman, capable of getting us all verklempt when he sang "Open Arms" to his wife. And when he sang a cover of Blake's "God Gave Me You" and dedicated it to Blake. And when he won and re-sang his big song of the night ("I Believe I Can Fly) and he sang it chocked up and clutching his wife:

What an ending for the audience! What an emotional hit! That's how we want to feel at the end of a book.

Villains! Usually there's some jerk contestant we all love to hate, but this time it was Christina Aguilera! (Not real hate, just TV hate.) She was rude, passive aggressive, and egotistical, and she did these things consistently.

One of the contestants was a fellow ex-Mickey Mouse club member, and she didn't even recognize him; then she kept giving him shit, and moralized at him during the finale, and implied he wasn't a "real man," and when he was thanking all the coaches I saw her texting. She was obviously fighting with fellow coach Adam but she'd make her snide comments when she was giving the contestants feedback. Rudeness! And with every single feedback she gave, she always, always, always brought it back to herself. Me me me it's all about me. 
 

As my mother and I gasped and shook our fists, I was taking mental notes: Why do we think she's got a huge ego? Cause every comment is about her. How do we know she's passive aggressive? Cause she uses other people to attack the object of her disdain. And each little moment adds up to: We hates you!

...Those were some of the things that crossed my mind as I watched. Are you excited for your next reality program now? I am!
   

Getting Crafty! Studying story structure

So. In May I wrote 62 000 words of my book--I'm aiming for about 80 000. But I had to stop because I just don't know who my antagonist is. It could be my heroine herself, but there are some other possibilities. Just have to figure out which one will be best, create the most Conflict! Ta-da! La-la!

“‘The cat sat on the mat’ is not the beginning of a story, 

but ‘the cat sat on the dog’s mat’ is.” —John Le Carré

I decided to just put it aside for a bit, and study structure. I bought Lani's structure lecture, and I've done all my homework. I'm listening to both the Storywonk podcasts (author Lani Diane Rich and her husband talking about what makes for good storytelling) and the Popcorn Dialogues (Lani and author Jennifer Crusie analyzing films for good storytelling.) I'm watching more of the movies watched on Popcorn Dialogues, and applying the Lani structure to them. Bla bla bla analyze analyze analyze.

I'm also reading a couple books on writing, including my latest fave: The Modern Library's Writer's Workshop, written by a guy ran Columbia U's creative writing program. In his section on revision he has some interesting advice:

Write out a summary of your story. And then keep writing out other summaries, changing the way it's told: "Change the beginning, change the ending, shift points of view and perspectives. Keep each summary short [not more than 3000 words] and try never to devote more than a day's work to any one of them. ...you are testing the possibilities. ...When you are fully satisfied, you will have a map for your second draft."

So that's kind of what I've been doing. Tweaking something, and then trying to retell the story, see if it works better or worse.

He also advises complete rewrites when making new drafts, which another writing teacher advised in another very good book: A Passion for Narrative. This latter guy said that among the students whose work was published or won awards/contests, they were more often the rewriters.

I've always just worked over the first draft, albeit several times. But this time my second draft will be a complete rewrite, and I think that's why I wrote so many words in May. There's an expression my brother shared with me: "Write for the trash can." When you know the first draft is only the primordial soup from which your story will crawl, it doesn't have to be neat, it can be experimental, you can shift POVs, you can cut a character and not go back to erase him, you can just write and let the ideas come at you. You can let your inner pantser pants.

Anyway, I'm happy with my (not even finished!) trash can draft. But now I've got to figure out what's gonna crawl out of it.
   
 

Don't let the critics of critics get you down

When you play the role of critic (for society, for your work place, etc.) people often accuse you of being "too negative." I think there's a difference between an informed, well thought out critique, and someone who's just Down on Everything All the Time. I agree that the latter is tiresome, but the former is necessary.

Here's a good example. I gather Native Appropriations took some flack in critiquing things like the  released Tonto images (for the upcoming film); but she's written some fantastic posts on hipster headdresses and those fricking Happy Tribalicious people. I've learned a ton from her blog; and she played a role in bringing to light Urban Outfitters' selling of "Navajo panties" and "Navajo hip flasks." (I can't decide which of the two was worse.) See the below slide show--it's really neat. (To see it bigger go here.)

Native Americans vs Urban Outfitters on Prezi

From a Jeddah street to a Virginian livingroom

For those who liked the Oliver Stories, here's the story of Jeddah. Rescued from the streets of Saudi Arabia by a non-cat-person!

In the hotel, dirty and injured.

At the Saudi vet, visited every two days by her hero Sam.

At home in Virginia, with her fave guy.

Forever Home.

   

Tarrus & Princey

Fave music in 2011 - I think this is the last post! And it should bring us 'round about the one year anniversary since my first Prince concert. ;-)

Tarrus Riley - Parables - I thoroughly worked my way through Riley's newer album, so I bought an older one. I'm still discovering it, but I love putting him on and just letting the gorgeosity wash over me.
"Something Strong"





PRINCE

My husband treated me to two Prince concerts this year. The first was my first Prince concert, and it was up close and personal--a small club, for the Montreal Jazz Fest. Then Princeo made a second pass, this time as part of his official tour, so my husband took me for Christmas. So I got the stadium experience. And Fernando came too, and finally we've made a Prince fan out of him.

So... my top fave Princey discoveries in 2011.

Laydown
From the heart of Minnesota
Here come the purple Yoda


And by a Prince-related band
Blue Limosine by Apollonia 6 (written by Prince) - It's got that great Purple Rain era Minneapolis Sound.


When Eye Lay My Hands On U - Some of the most poetic smut anyone's ever penned. (Shared below, because Prince's lyrics aren't always this good.)
I will touch thee in the softest manner
Like "Europa" in the hands of Santana.


The message you're about to hear is not meant for transmission
Should only be accessed in the privacy of your mind
Words are intense so my dear if you dare to listen
Take off your clothes
And meet me between the lines

Are you ready for the touch that makes you go insane
Breast to lips to cheek to mane
I'll pull your hair, you'll feel no pain
Are you ready for the only forever we'll both obtain
The only joy in this forsaken game
You'll feel ashamed and ordained
When I lay my hands on you

The touch you're about to feel is the one you've been wishin' for
It's been here like an echo inside your space and time
It's about to get freaky cause the places that I'll be kissin'
Are the places that no other man could ever find
Oh wind up ready for...

Are you ready for the touch...

Nobody knows
Like I knows
Where the deepest part of your river flows
Snap Snap
Undo these nylon hose
Around your thigh my finger goes slowly
Like a cat tip-toes
Until I reach the capstone
I will touch thee in the softest manner
Like Europa in the hands of Santana

Are you ready for the touch...

On the spot!

Frog Widdershins had some questions posted on her blog awhile back that I said I'd answer on my blog. Here they are!

Nisha’s Questions:

1.       If you attended Hogwarts, which house would you belong to, Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw or Slytherin?

A – Probably Hufflepuff, I'm a goofy sort. But I'm also the only person who never fantasized about going to such a school / being a wizard.

2.       I prefer Twitter to Facebook. Agree or Disagree?

A – Prefer blogging and reading blogs.

3.        Romantic dinner at a fancy restaurant or staying in with pizza and a movie?

A – Home. But husbando prefers to go out.

4.       If you were forced to marry ONE of the following men, who would you choose and why: Ebenezer Scrooge, Severus Snape or Heathcliff? And for the men, who would you marry: Dolores Umbridge, Madame Bovary or Lindsay Lohan?

A – Well Ebenezer of course, cause he becomes a nice guy. (I have a crush on Severus but wouldn't want to married to that moodiness.)

5.       Chocolate: white, milk or dark?

A – milk, but vegan

6.       Favourite Horror movie?

A – Misery.

7.      If your personality were a colour, what colour would it be?

A – Purple: fruity, but with a serious side too.

8.       What famous mystery would you most like to know the answer to? (Eg. The identity of Jack The Ripper or whether OJ was guilty.)

A – I look to John Douglas in these matters. He says OJ fits the profile of the killer, and thought some Polish dude interviewed by police fit the profile of the Ripper killings. So I'm good.

9.       If you were about to be executed(God forbid!) what would you choose as your last meal?

A – Not sure I'd care. ...Maybe chips and dip?

10.   Favourite CSI show: Las Vegas Original, New York or Miami?

A – Never watched.

11.   There are too many reality shows on TV. Agree or disagree?

A – A little too many, but I think that will balance out in time.

*

My questions, if you choose to accept this mission. There are only a few.

1 – What public legacy (excluding happy healthy children) would you like to live on after you’ve left this mortal coil?

A - A wonderful novel that endures and is loved! Of course!

2 – What is the one thing you fear you’ll never accomplish?

A - Exercising with some kind of regularity.

3 – You’re lost. No-one is coming to find you. What do you do?

A - Find a source of water.

4 – Which insect, and why?

A - Fascinated by all of them! But easiest to tolerate are the carpet beetles that sit in corners where I can't see them, munching on cat hair.

   

Everything I learned about life I learned from Yoda

When I went to London for 10 days I was mostly alone and I needed someone to put in my photos, so I brought three dolls with me: Yoda beanie, Wolverine, and Queen Amidala. Yoda turned out to be the best poser--he really looks like a tourist. I would tuck him into the pocket of my cargos, half sticking out, and stroll the London streets. People love Yoda Beanie. The other day I was even questioned by someone when we stopped at a road house!

But Yoda is also a great philosophical companion. I learned from him...

Mindfulness: "This one a long time have I watched. All his life as he looked away... to the future, to the horizon. Never his mind on where he was. What he was doing!"

Make decisions from a place of calm: Luke "But how am I to know the good side from the bad?  Yoda "You will know. When you are calm, at peace. Passive."  I just came across a study that studied decision making among non-meditators, and regularly meditating monks. They found different parts of the brain lit up. The monks made decisions based on rationality, and not on emotion (such as whether they felt they were being treated fairly.)

What you think you create: (At the tree) Yoda "In you must go."  Luke "What's in there?"  Yoda "Only what you take with you."

and

(After Yoda raises the ship.) Luke "I don't believe it!"  Yoda "That is why you fail."

Have faith in your abilities: "Always with you it cannot be done. ...Do or do not. There is no try."

We're all one: "You must feel the Force around you. Here, between you, me, the tree, the rock, everywhere! Yes, even between the land and the ship." Jill Bolte-Taylor learned that our right brains see the world this way.


Don't be superficial: "Judge me by my size do you? And well you should not. For my ally is the Force, and a powerful ally it is." This is why it saddens me when people complain that the final battle in Return of the Jedi should have been with wookies and not ewoks. As if the Empire would build a base on a wookie planet! The whole point is they underestimated the wee local natives.

And finally: We're bundles of energy, just like all the other life around us!

Luminous beings are we. Not this crude matter!

Storytelling Mediums: Dance

Do you guys listen to the Storywonk podcast? For those who don't know it's a weekly (once was daily) podcast about writing. But the real idea is to study and celebrate storytelling in all forms.

Dance is probably one of the earliest storytelling mediums, before we had language even. I only watched So You Think You Can Dance one season, when staying with my mum, but a couple of the dances were so moving I still remember them. Great storytelling. Romances, in this case...

I think this was of two weird people finding each other...


She finds out he's going off to war...


Trying to get her workaholic beau to slow down...

The Books You've Always Meant to Read

From brainpickings.org I gather these were posters put out by Roosevelt's New Deal agency. ...Maybe they were trying to encourage people to use the library when they couldn't afford to buy books! ?

If you were going to do this, what book would it be? If I chose from the classics, I'd have to say Middlemarch cause I've had it kicking around so long (though Barb warned me against it.) Among newer books, I'd say Fall On Your Knees by Anne-Marie Macdonald, which is one of the books I brought to read here.

By the way, my mother was quite shocked by my 50 Books to Read This Year pile. She reads about a mystery novel a day. She doesn't understand this two-weeks-to-read-a-book business. Get in and get out!
   

Because you've been so very very good

Ms Brownlow sent me this wonderful treat for rewarding yourself after doing stanky work, like yard work. I can't use it because alcohol is an instant headache trigger for me. But it sounded so lovely I thought I'd better pass it on.

By the way [although this will do nothing for you if you can't tolerate alcohol], a super wonderful food reward treat thing I might give myself later this summer if I manage to do really really really a lot of getting my apartment in order before the end of the summer:  rum, put in the freezer for a few hours so that it gets thick; and Sharon's Sorbet fruit ice, just about any flavor.  You work really hard, so that you're hot and worn out and sweaty and messy.  Then you take a nice long shower and wash your hair and rinse off all the dust and let warm water sooth some of the achy muscles.  And then you barely towel off and take your still-damp self to recline in the most comfortable seat you have, just letting your muscles relax and enjoying the satisfaction of a job well done, and knowing you don't have to move again in all that heat.  And you scoop some of the frozen sorbet into a stemmed wide-mouthed glass, and then you pour some of the rum syrup over it, and you lie back in your most comfortable chair and eat your treat slowly with a spoon, savoring every mouthful.  And, because you don't have to do anything else or go anywhere else and because you've been so very very good, you can have a second helping.  You can even have a third.  More than that is not really a good idea. 

I promise, on a very hot afternoon, when you've been working very hard, and you have lots of aching muscles and got yourself really sweaty and grimy, it is a wonderful reward.  And I invented it!

Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown

I am fa-reeking OUT.

I just learned on frog-Zeba's blog that BBC has made a new adaptation of Shakespeare's "mini series" -- Richard II, Henry IV Part I, Henry IV Part II, and Henry V. I have an older version they made, and this one looks amaaazing!

 

Scene from the old one, An Age of Kings...

 

My lurv affair with this started when I saw Kenneth Branagh's Henry V in the theatre.

 

I watch it over and over. I got the idea to write a comedic modernisation--of Paris Hilton type fool who inherits her parent's company and turns out not to be an idiot. So then I started studying the three previous plays, to see how far back I wanted to start the story, and to figure out back story. They're actually better plays than Henry V, which is sort of pro-war pro-England propaganda. Orson Welles made a great adaptation of the Henry IVs called Chimes at Midnight.

 

I've worked out a fair amount of that book's characters and plot. It will probably include pirates. Many of the characters (Hal, Falstaff) are now women. When I'm done with my current book, that's the one I'm vair excited to write.

Dolly & Lilly

Fave albums in 2011

I finally decided to give in to a Dolly Parton box set (minus the box) this year. As one of the most successful female songwriters ever, she deserved it. The song I spent the most time with was one my dad used to have on a mixed 8 track! It's a fine example of her talent, both in lyric and melody.

All you gotta do is smile and smile
And there go all my defenses






Lily Allen - It's Not Me, It's You - I'm not sure which song is my favorite, "Fuck You" which so jolly-fully expresses how one feels about bigots (except, well ok, I don't hate anyone); or "Not Fair" about a guy who's perfect in every way except he's selfish in bed. Lily Allen just puts it all on the table, but in a silly way as opposed to a "I fall upon the thorns of life I bleed" way.

Do you really enjoy living a life that's so hateful?
Cause there's a hole where your soul should be
Your losing control of it and it's really distasteful
Fuck you
Fuck you very, very much



Not fair

This is Ovaltine Jenkins

Don't have anything deep in me today, so I thought I'd share this clip from Psych. I'd never seen the show before watching it with my mother this week--I instantly found the characters charming, and it's my kind of humor. It's about a guy who pretends to be a psychic, but is really just very observant. ...The clip is a mashup of all the ways he's introduced his partner over the years. Dulé Hill's reactions are hilarious.

Women in Fridges and the Bechdel Test: Gauging how the ladies are doing in Storyland

Oh God the milk has soured!

Last weekend my brother told me about a term called "women in refrigerators." It was coined by comic book writer Gail Simone who found that a disproportionate number of female comic characters are killed, or maimed, or tortured, or raped, or de-powered, as plot devices for the male characters. The discussion was spurred by a Green Lantern episode where he comes home to find his girlfriend chopped up in the fridge.

I've been watching Buffy reruns lately, and this fridging thing made me think of Spike's attempted rape of Buffy. It doesn't change her at all, doesn't change the course of her story; its sole purpose is to trigger him on a quest. (I never really got that scene anyway, since rape often has to do with power and Buffy had equal or more power. In other words, could easily defend herself. It was very weird. Or... shitty writing. Fridging.)

And that led me off in a jaunt to read a bunch of articles about women in Joss Whedon's universes.

Anyway. I know this fridging business is something I'll notice from now on, in movies etc. I agree with one critic who said it's more likely something that happens to side characters rather than protagonists, and the overwhelming number of protagonists in comics are male. For example it's pretty common for The Girlfriend to get kidnapped in action movies.

On the other hand, it's happened to Wonder Woman in her own comics! So... the protag/side char thing doesn't Explain All.

This reminds me of another feminist tick I think of when watching movies: The Bechdel Test. This also comes from a graphic novel author. A story passes the test if...

1. It has to have at least two [named] women in it

2. Who talk to each other

3. About something besides a man

So if I look at two movies I rewatched tonight, they both fail. #1 RED: There are two women, they talk to each other, but about men.  #2 TOOTSIE: There are two women, they don't talk to each other. Though weirdly there is our cross-dressing protagonist, and when he's dressed as a woman he talks to another woman, about something other than men. On the other hand, most Buffy episodes would pass.

It's not that every movie has to pass the Bechdel, or that there can never be raped or tortured characters in fiction; but these critiques exist to make us think about how often they happen. Which is to say: A lot.
  

Objects in the rear view mirror may appear closer than they are

Recently on frog* Julie's page this came up on her daily oracle card reading:

The Angel of Space Clearing has shown up in your reading today to help you clear the negative thought patterns and feelings which have surfaced recently as a result of your dwelling on past mistakes and regrets.  These unconstructive thoughts and feelings are the primary source of stress in your life at present.  Not only are they causing you to feel confused, they are also preventing positive new energies from entering your life.

A couple people commented that sometimes we aren't hanging onto the past, the past is hanging onto us.

I don't have a lot of Difficult Past Memories, but some of the friendships in my life have shown me that prying off the Past's fingers is easier-said-than-done. Negative experiences wire themselves into your brain, so the traditional talk therapy approaches used in the past aren't enough to deal with them (hence characters in Woody Allen movies who've been in therapy for 20 years.) In fact, traumatic memories are even experienced as though they're happening right now (flashbacks). It might require a mix of talk, talk with friends, cognitive behavior therapy, neuro-linguistic programming, and techniques that actually change your brain. In other words, dealing with a difficult and complex past can require hard work.

The discussion made me think of a song by, of all people, Jim Steinman. Steinman wrote Meat Loaf's best sillodramatic songs, and came up with a great metaphor for the way the past sometimes feels like it still has a grip on us: Objects in the rearview mirror may appear closer than they are.

And though the nightmares should be over,

some of the terrors are still intact

I'll hear that ugly, coarse, and violent voice,

and then he grabs me from behind, and then he pulls me back

But it was long ago, and it was far away

Oh God, it seems so very far,

and if life is just a highway, then the soul is just a car

And objects in the rear view mirror may appear closer than they are...

____
* Friend on a Blog!

To all the books I've loved before...

My writing has stopped cause I'm restructuring the book. It's like writing those first 61 000 words were necessary to invent all my puzzle pieces, but now I need to get them in the right order. So I haven't been keeping up to blogdate.

But in the meantime, here are some of the books I can remember loving as a kid...

Sometimes on kids' birthdays the parents would rent the projector from the library and show this one! Along with Bad Bad Leroy Brown...

 

Other library faves...

  

My dad was the great reciter for this one:

From my mum--for my blossoming feminism:

Monkeys drumming

Drumming on drums!

Loved. Animals.

Marmaduke was my fave comic.

Monkeys!

Animals!

And to the tiger in the zoo

Madeline said: Poo poo!

From the Serendipity series of books, that all had a little moral. I think my mum bought them.

Had some books on record, this was one.

A classic.

Had a book of Ukrainian folk tales from a grade 1 teacher, including Baba Yaga.

Actually I think I read a few of the originals in early junior high. Can't remember if someone read this to me as a child. So good.

Record of A Christmas Carol recited by Ronald Colman.

LOVED
LOVED
LOVED these books!

My dad bought me these and we'd read them together. I still have them.

Still have the Father Christmas books my dad bought me too. So funny too!

My brother got a magazine subscription (Owl maybe?) and I was jealous, and remember my mother saying next year when you're old enough you'll get one too. And this was it! I loved it.