“I go in for what is known in the trade as ‘light writing’ and those who do that – humorists they are sometimes called – are looked down upon by the intelligentsia and sneered at.”
- P.G. Wodehouse
Sad but true.
The In-Between-Projects Stage (Or The Dangers Of)
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I haven’t begun writing my next book yet for a couple of reasons. Firstly, I’m still messing with the storyline, but I’m close to having at least a generalized outline going. Secondly, I’ve been battling a cold on and off, and it’s still happening, so I’m slowed down considerably. I’ve all but stopped riding my bike, even, but I’m trying to resolve that by going the indoor trainer route instead and not aggravate my cough further by riding in the freezing cold. Not as fun or gratifying as being outdoors, but I’ll take what I can get.
Daily annoyances aside, I’m aching to get back into writing because being in between projects is hazardous to one’s mental state. It’s almost like the superstition behind sneezing and being told, “Bless you!” I just sneezed, my soul got booted out of my body because, you know, physiology and all that, and I’m stuck in a soulless state with no one saying, “Bless you!” to protect me from demonic possession.
To top it all off, it’s the holiday season, which is a time when I go in über nostalgic mode, listening to music and reading up on legends and superstitions behind stuff surrounding Christmas and then thinking about them. A lot. Too much. I’m talking danger levels. Like demonic possession levels.
The end result, of course, is my being lured away by new story ideas coming from these thinky-thought moments, while my actual Heir to the Throne of Writers Block and Angst slowly gets relegated. And I’ve got way too many unfinished files gathering dustbunnies in my WIP folder as it is.
And this year’s winners of In-Between-Projects-Demonic-Possession are:
“Good King Wenceslas” – the legend is eating away at me. We are not amused.
And:
One of my favorite pieces, but it’s giving me a serious case of Epic Eye Twitch. Bach, I love you, but go away. I have to write something contemporary because I need it on a lot of levels. And the problem with being wildly inspired is the fact that one can’t trust the workings of one’s brain, while the hands are about ten light years behind in speed as they try to capture those scenes in Word. No. Just no. This story might find its way out eventually, but it’s not now.
I think bears have a good thing going when they hibernate. That’s what I need to do during the holidays. Now I wish I had an on/off switch to that part of me that gets all starry-eyed and whimsical and susceptible to outside influences while in between projects. Because sanity.
Holiday Music: A Social Experiment
No, not really. Just idle observations as the days roll along, and holiday music is now a reality in our cozy little shop. Pandora fails big time, by the way.
First item: it takes about two straight hours of non-stop holiday music before the staff goes stir crazy. I guess seeing them walk through the doors and then slow down, that look of dread anticipation dawning on their faces as they get acclimated to the work environment, pretty much gives me a good idea of how long before the mutterings and grumblings and tired sighs are heard.
Second item: there are only about five popular holiday songs and about twenty billion renditions of it, all proudly offered by Pandora. And each rendition isn’t any different from the others. Except…
Third item: “Oh Holy Night” is now on my banned list of holiday songs because, Christ on a cracker, each rendition seems determined to out-bombast the one before it. You can just tell a singer’s just itching to get to the song’s high point (“Oh, niiiiight, dee-VIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINE!”). Who gets to hold that high note for as long as possible? Who gets to bring that high note up another octave? Who gets to cram a trill in there and turn a single note into a dozen wildly fluctuating ones? Vocal gymnastics is the name of the game with this song. Hence the banning from my world in my lifetime.
I’m managing to hold it together, though I’m finding myself drifting to No Man’s Land after a while, too, more and more day after day.
I actually love holiday music not for the nostalgia or for the religious context. It’s got a lot more to do with fascination with history and tradition (see: my love of folklore). But it’s tiresome hearing the same “comfort” songs again and again in an eight-hour shift, and I’m now scheming with our store manager regarding tweaking the shop’s required holiday listening playlist to include traditional choral stuff.
I’ve been campaigning to have Chanticleer added because if you want something different, they’re the ones to listen to. In addition to the quality of their singing, they specialize in obscure traditional songs in Latin, French, German, English, and Spanish.
Not sure if expanding our repertoire will help as I know of at least two people who’re more into contemporary holiday music than the more traditional kind (one of whom doesn’t even like choral music). Another issue is whether or not our boss will like it. Maybe some subterfuge is necessary here, but I’m not exactly very subtle about things in a work environment.
All the same, it’s pretty darned funny watching everyone hold it all in till our boss leaves, and the music station gets changed a fraction of a second after she walks out the door. Then it’s either Calexico or blues, and then everyone’s breathing easy again.
Eff, Yeah, Diana!
Indulge me this. I’m a huge fan of Wonder Woman (even if my first exposure to her was Lynda Carter’s series, which I watched religiously), and yesterday’s announcement of her casting for the next Superman (vs. Batman) film got me a touch nervous.
Because, largely, Zach Snyder’s again at the helm, and I don’t like him as a director: all bombast and zero substance. See: Man of Steel and every other blockbuster he’d filmed leading up to that movie.
So seeing Chuck Wendig give voice to my anxiety just got me even more nervous:
First, that she’s not part of the trio, but rather, a third wheel to the two men. I say this because the film is called Batman Vs. Superman. She’s not going to be a main character because, drum roll please, the main characters are already there.
Second, we’re not following the Marvel path of, “Introduce new character with their own film, then give them the team-up movie.” This is reverse-engineering (and I’ll tell you why that’s a problem in a minute).
Third, the fear that romantic drama will be at play here, with Wonder Woman offered up as kissy-fodder for Superman to create emotional conflict with Lois. (Again, why else introduce her in a film not about her unless she’s to be used as a prop to hold up some aspect of the plot?)
Fourth, Man of Steel wasn’t — for me — a great film, or even a good film, or even a film I want to see ever again. (It’s another movie that over time lost any luster it had when I left the theater).
Fifth, and finally: Sucker Punch. Again.
She does sound like a post script, i.e., “Oh, let’s throw her in. Forgot about her.” Like a dash of salt and pepper to season a pot of stew. That said, I’m trying to be warily hopeful and will be watching the movie if only to see her. Superman? Nah. Batman? I’ve already been de-Batman-ized by Chris Nolan. I have enough Batman in me to last me ten lifetimes, thank you.
So I figured I’d indulge in some fan-made geekiness and hope and cross my fingers that Wonder Woman will get a fair shot. I’d kill to see a solo Wonder Woman movie.
Ignore the hot pants. I mean, come on, man.
And Wonder Woman doesn’t fly. She has an invisible jet. But fan trailers are fun, and after whining about crappy female roles and ineffective women in action or superhero films, I’m hoping we get things right this time around. I mean – it’s Diana. She’ll drop kick you and kill you ten different ways before you hit the ground.
And Greek Mythology. She wins.
Beware - Someone is Always Watching
And may God have mercy on your soul if you make this blunder in your manuscript or query letter.
It's probably worse with teachers who read stuff online. How I imagine things to unfold: there's that eye twitch that starts out pretty subtly and gets progressively worse till half of the face is frozen in a permanent contortion. Then comes the garbled cry: "WTF - apostrophe abuse! That's apostrophe abuse!" For the luckless, helpless teacher, the torch-bearing mob of the internet takes care of everything pretty thoroughly, and cosmic balance is restored. XD Oh, and content and line editors as well, bless them. Post script: apostrophe abuse is my biggest pet peeve, immediately followed by the use of "drug" as the simple past tense of "drag". And "could / would of" instead of "could / would have"...
