I am still breathing. I promise.
I've just moved. I'll send everyone that info via email this week. If you don't get that email, pester me and remind me of my shortcomings, and I will send it to you.
Then again, if you don't get that email and I don't know you, I'm probably not going to send you my address. No offence.
Anyway, I am sorting/categorizing my books for the first time since...well, ever. I started out with five categories, then I'll go to sub-categories (by date, subject, region, etc). The big five are: teaching/work reference, general/other reference, non-fiction, fiction/poetry/literature, and comics/graphic novels. Sounds easy, right? Meh. A few things came to mind:
1) Jesus tap-dancing Christ, I have a lot of books.
2) It is sooooo tempting to put Foucault in fiction...
3) Hmmm...surrealism...where should I...
4) Wow, did I take a Henry James class?
5) Well, the cynic in me says anything satirical should probably be non-fiction...
6) EL CID!! I'm organizing these books in a fortunate hour! Ha ha!
7) Okay, well, if medieval chronicles go in non-fiction, surrealism does too, damn it!
8) I own two Thomas Mann novels. You'd think I would have read at least one.
9) Jesus tap-dancing Christ, I have a lot of books...
Perhaps this will be continued later.
Monday, May 19, 2008
Monday, May 5, 2008
Harvester of Sorrow
Well, maybe "Harvester" indicates too much agency.
Anyway, avid readers may remember (or not) that I had promised to write a new scene from my play, featuring Greg as himself in his very own scene. This, I have done.
Sort of.
No, I did, it's just more of a "scene with Greg" than "Greg's scene" right now. It turns out that I had to do a lot of work in this scene, and the overarching purpose wasn't enough to carry the thing much beyond a page and a half. Granted, there's a fair amount of direction, and plenty of wiggle room for the actor, but I'm thinking 7-8 minutes tops.
The problem seems to be that I need for Greg to have more to say. Which, of course, means that I have to think more about what Greg has to say. Which is, of course, somewhat problematic since Greg's primary problem is his lack of really insightful things TO say.
Plus, thinking about Greg makes me squeamish. He's like an emotional black hole, from which no light or feeling or love can escape. And that's the thing. Everybody LOVES Greg (well, technically, they love what Greg used to be, but that's another post), so their emotions sink into the black hole. Yes, that is the 'answer' if you were writing a paper about this half-written, contrived play. He is pretty much the point around which Sorrow is Harvested (see? no agency).
Naturally, he is completely oblivious. That's his "thing." He doesn't really know that Winnicott is more important to him than Sharon, which is the obvious point of his scene and, frankly, not enough to make it interesting. I did add a fun touch, though. Sharon screams from offstage a few times, reminding Greg that she's in labor. That was fun.
I need to re-read Greg's scene with Vaughn and recapture the magic. Then deal with Vaughn killing Winnicott with a cardboard mailing tube. Oh...yeah, spoiler: Vaughn kills Winnicott with a cardboard mailing tube. Sorry.
Okay, enough self-aggrandizing. Hope everyone is well. After all, the semester is almost Ooooooover!
***UPDATE*** Damn, 4min, 17sec. Grrrr...
Anyway, avid readers may remember (or not) that I had promised to write a new scene from my play, featuring Greg as himself in his very own scene. This, I have done.
Sort of.
No, I did, it's just more of a "scene with Greg" than "Greg's scene" right now. It turns out that I had to do a lot of work in this scene, and the overarching purpose wasn't enough to carry the thing much beyond a page and a half. Granted, there's a fair amount of direction, and plenty of wiggle room for the actor, but I'm thinking 7-8 minutes tops.
The problem seems to be that I need for Greg to have more to say. Which, of course, means that I have to think more about what Greg has to say. Which is, of course, somewhat problematic since Greg's primary problem is his lack of really insightful things TO say.
Plus, thinking about Greg makes me squeamish. He's like an emotional black hole, from which no light or feeling or love can escape. And that's the thing. Everybody LOVES Greg (well, technically, they love what Greg used to be, but that's another post), so their emotions sink into the black hole. Yes, that is the 'answer' if you were writing a paper about this half-written, contrived play. He is pretty much the point around which Sorrow is Harvested (see? no agency).
Naturally, he is completely oblivious. That's his "thing." He doesn't really know that Winnicott is more important to him than Sharon, which is the obvious point of his scene and, frankly, not enough to make it interesting. I did add a fun touch, though. Sharon screams from offstage a few times, reminding Greg that she's in labor. That was fun.
I need to re-read Greg's scene with Vaughn and recapture the magic. Then deal with Vaughn killing Winnicott with a cardboard mailing tube. Oh...yeah, spoiler: Vaughn kills Winnicott with a cardboard mailing tube. Sorry.
Okay, enough self-aggrandizing. Hope everyone is well. After all, the semester is almost Ooooooover!
***UPDATE*** Damn, 4min, 17sec. Grrrr...
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