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Wrist to Virginia Woolf

I knew it would be Wrist to Forehead Sunday; I just didn’t know how long I would put off making the post.  This weekend was going to be SO productive, writing-wise!  I guess next weekend I will plan on getting nothing done and see if the opposite thing happens with that.

I couldn’t even have one of my favorite Severed Head Sundays, because Steven wanted to watch Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? in respect for recently deceased playwright Edward Albee.  I could have no possible objection.  I love Edward Albee.  I had a great directing experience once directing The American Dream, which of course he wrote.  My greatest dream role has always been Martha in Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?  I still think I could play the hell out of that part.  Perhaps I flatter myself, but who would disillusion me?  At least, I suppose somebody might try, but I will not believe them.

It is really a very good movie.  Some people have problems with places where it departs from the play script, but you’ll have that with a screen adaptation.  I have never seen the play on stage, although I have read it numerous times.  I think it is time for me to read it again.  It would be a good idea for me to read more plays, since I am currently working on writing a couple. If I keep reading plays, I can internalize the form, as they say.

In the meantime, I need to publish at least 200 words to feel I am still writing a blog.  When I realized I had not done so yet, I said, “Crap!  I haven’t make my blog post!”  Steven said, “Don’t make one today.  Everyone will be saying, ‘Where’s Cindy?’ ”  But I could not let today be the day I did such a thing.  So I pulled out the laptop and started typing.  And look, I am over 300 words.  I call that respectable.  Happy Sunday, everyone.



Whatever Happened to Finish That Novel May?

So I wrote part of a blog post at work today, not a Mohawk Valley adventure but a silly commentary, and I did not think it was contemptible.  Unfortunately I did not finish it.  I wrote till one break was over, then on the next break I found I could not continue.  I turned to another page and started to write another lament about my writing woes.  I got a sentence and a half before it started to bore me.  No other blog topics presenting themselves, I turned to a completely fresh page and started writing notes on yet another new novel.

I have a very bad habit of continually starting new novels but never finishing them.  On the other hand, my rule for myself is to Just Write.  Do you suppose I ought to make up some more rules for myself?  If my new rule is Finish What You Start, I am going to be writing for a LONG time.  If I can even find all the novels I have started.  Now I am reminding myself that I also have to finish the banana play.  As well as another play that I had written almost all of (and I think the plot is pretty damn good on that one) (but perhaps I flatter myself).

It is not the least bit surprising that I am so good at writing interactive murder mysteries.  They play to all my strengths.  And they are short.

Ah, I can just hear somebody taking a breath to say, “Write short stories!”  Well, I won’t, because I don’t like short stories. Oh, I know, many people adore them and they are a highly respected art form.  I just don’t like them.   I could write a whole blog post on why, but what does it matter?  There is no accounting for tastes.

So this is my Non-Sequitur Thursday post.  If only I could think of a punchy headline, I would be reasonably content.  And if I can’t think of a good headline, at least I made a blog post.  I’ll work on that silly commentary more tomorrow.


We Do the Doodah!

I’ve always been kind of fascinated by the Doodah Parade, which is part of the Ilion Days festivities.   For one reason, what a great name.  The Doodah Parade.  I keep finding excuses to say it.  When some members of Ilion Little Theatre signed up to march, I was happy to join them.

One member allowed us to use his pick-up truck (full disclosure: he was kind of strong-armed into it).  The plan was for most of us to walk, but marchers could take a break in the truck.  It would be a handy place to put things like bottles of water or stuff we were handing out.  We met in the theatre parking lot to decorate the truck.  We had a minor setback when we discovered the brand new helium tank was empty, but we made do with lung power.  Balloons, ribbons and shiny hangings soon adorned the vehicle as participants continued to show up.

We had a sizable contingent from the Young Actors Workshop (YAW) as well as adults.  Some people wore t-shirts from plays they’d been in; some were in costume.  I dressed as a pirate myself.  We also had a couple of ladies in historical costume, a few princesses, one fabulously dressed diva, and Tierney, the mysterious neighbor from the ILT production The Birds.  The last two were the most impressive costumes to me, the diva because she walked the entire route in high-heeled sandals, and Tierney because his costume included a black canvas poncho with hood.  It was a sunny, hot  evening.  Those are some dedicated parade people right there.

We were a little late getting to the staging area, although it was fun riding in the back of the pick-up truck along part of the parade route, which was already filled with people.  We all waved, shouting that we were a preview.  We were in fact a preview of the end of the parade, because that is where you end up marching when you show up late to the staging area.  It seemed to take a long time to get started but at last we were headed down the street, waving at spectators and spreading the word about Ilion Little Theatre.  Some of the kids had candy to throw.  Others handed out pens and fliers.  I asked that a pen be saved for me, so I could write a play with it.  I’m sure I will feel very inspired to write a good play using a pen that has “Ilion Little Theatre” printed on it.

My husband Steven had to work till six so did not try to join us in the marching.  He waited for us at the end, where he joined us.  He was wearing his t-shirt from Roxy, a play which I may have mentioned in a few blog posts last summer.  We all walked up the hill to the theatre parking lot, where most of us had left our cars.  We were full of plans for next year’s Doodah Parade.  I think everybody had a splendid time, although I’d just like to mention, I’m still waiting for my pen.


NOW I’ll Pour the Wine!

Oh, thank Heaven it’s Lame Post Friday and Wine O’clock.  If only it was also Steve-fifteen, my life would be perfect.  Full disclosure:  I have not yet poured myself a glass of wine.  That’s next.  First I need to make a blog post.

I have been experiencing great resistance to writing lately (yes, I know, some people call that laziness; they could be right but I am not up to arguing semantics today).  Twice this week I’ve brought plays to work to read, to avoid staring at a blank page in my notebook.  I really have to stop doing that.   I mean, sometimes it’s fine.  I read the play on breaks, I put the play away and work. Sometimes not so much.

When I was reading Leading Ladies I made rather a spectacle of myself by laughing out loud as I read.  That did not bother me nearly as much as when I read Wrong Turn at Lungfish and started to cry.  I sat at the break table with the tears streaming down my face.  Finally I got up and went to the usual refuge for crying, the ladies room.  I went into the back and sobbed.  That would not have been so bad, except the guy was in there cleaning at the time.  How embarrassing.

Nothing particularly embarrassing happened with the plays I read this week.  The problem was, though, they were so good I could not put them down.  Well, one must put down reading materials and return to work.  Those are the rules.  This is why I stopped bringing books to work (no, not the crying thing; I rarely cry over what I read).

I have managed to write at least a little bit on my banana play each day.  I hope to write even more this weekend, among other activities planned.  One thing I have definitely planned is to write some non-lame blog posts.  However, those plans are for the future.  For today, this is what you get.  Happy Friday, everyone.


Pre-Spree Post

I did not shop on Thanksgiving Day nor yet on Black Friday.  However, Small Business Saturday, that’s is right up Mohawk Valley Girl’s alley!  My wonderful husband, Steven, only works till two today, so we are planning a spree.  I want to get my blog post written pre-spree, so this is in the nature of a Preview of Coming Attractions.

Our destination is Little Falls, NY, because we want to go to the Black Box Theatre in Stone Mill.  I read in the paper that it is New Play November, and LiFT Theatre Company is presenting three plays written by director Matthew Powers.  I certainly hope to write more about this.  In the meantime, if you’re interested, you can Like LiFT Theater Company on Facebook.

There are several retail establishments we hope to visit this afternoon.  At the top of my list is the Selective Eye, the gift shop at Mohawk Valley Center for the Arts (MVCA).  No doubt I will wander into the gallery to check out the artwork while we’re there.  MVCA is located right across from Little Falls Antiques Center, where in addition to the Black Box, we intend to visit the Mustard Seed and Stone Mill Antiques as well as the Shops at 25 West.

If we have time we may visit Fall Hill Bead and Gem.  We may be early enough for a snack at That Little Place on Main, which is right nearby.  However, we mustn’t snack too heartily, because we are also meeting friends at Copper Moose Ale House for dinner.

We have a lot of stops planned.  However, before we leave Herkimer, I’m hoping we have time for a quick stop at Vintage Spirits.  They are celebrating their 10th anniversary by offering tastings all day and giving away canvas totes that say “Shop Small.”  Now wouldn’t that be a good place to put today’s purchases?

In all, it promises to be a fun day, and I can enjoy it with a clear conscience now that my blog post is written.  I wonder if I can make enough stops to keep me in “real” posts for the entire week. Well, maybe not on Wrist to Forehead Sunday.  I hope you’re all having a lovely holiday weekend.


Wish I Had Written That Spare Post

I think I was really onto something with the idea of “In Case of Emergency Hit Publish” (or else I was on something, I think the saying goes). However, the sad truth is, I have not written any other spare posts. Could be a problem.

This morning instead of writing my post, I started writing another play. I haven’t quite finished the last play I was working on, but it has gotten to the point where I need to type in the first draft, print it out and ponder my options.

There I was, scribbling notes on a Christmas play. I wasn’t really nuts about it so far, but I persevered. And I had my reward, because in the midst of my note making, I came up with something I liked. Ha ha ha (satisfied chuckle). I hope nobody feels frustrated that I can’t share it with you, but I think I’ve mentioned how it is a mistake to talk about a piece of writing before it is finished. In fact, I’ve said too much already.

Still, I thought, Non-Sequitur Thursday. How hard can it be? Moreover, it can’t be too long of a post, because I have a dinner meeting of Ilion Little Theatre tonight.

Here’s a grammatical note, just to veer into Stream of Consciousness Thursday instead: I think the proper construction is “too long a post,” but I seem to like better the sound of “too long of a post” when I say it in my head. I always say things in my head when I write them. Sometimes after I write them I call Steven upstairs and say them out loud.

To continue with my Thursday story, as the day wore on, I developed a rather severe headache. I think it has something to do with the weather, but I’m not a doctor, so what do I really know? I was in pain. I did not write further on subsequent breaks.

Now I am at home and the headache has subsided. The result of the Equate Migraine Relief? The blue Gator Ade? Being home with my husband and dog? The coffee Steven made for me? No matter. I’m good to type, if only I had written something to type in.

And just like that, I have over 300 words. Oh, I love this blogging hobby. Tomorrow I will attempt to forgo Lame Post Friday and come up with something real to write about, but I can make no promises. As always, I hope you’ll stay tuned.

About That Play…

When we last left our hero (um, that’s me) (I went masculine as gender neutral, because I did not want to refer to myself as an illegal substance), she was about to stop writing her blog post and instead work on finishing a play she had started. OK, enough with the third person crap.

What I’m saying is, I did not write my post on breaks at work today, as I usually do. I trusted to last minute inspiration and my ability in the past to write something on the fly. Or is it off the cuff? I get my clothing metaphors confused.

It is, of course, Lame Post Friday, my day of random observations and half-baked philosophy. I seem to recall mentioning yesterday that we should save the half-baked philosophy about finished works for Lame Post Friday. And here we are.

I find it sad but true when I read a novel or a play or even a magazine article that is not very good: my first thought is, I could do so much better. My second thought is, well, why didn’t you? One reason the worst novel in the world can get published over my deathless prose (I don’t really think it’s deathless; I just like that expression) is that that novel GOT FINISHED.

And here is some more half-baked philosophy: one can take the above thought two ways. It could be an inspiration to write more and concentrate on finishing. Or it can be a discouraging criticism: if you haven’t finished a damn play yet, you never will, give it up now!

Well, which way did you think I was going to take it? You know I like to keep my blog positive! So I spent my time before I had to start working and my break writing my play. Unfortunately, I dare not tell you anything about it, because it is a work in progress. It’s not that I fear my gentle readers will steal my ideas, but I do fear “helpful” criticism (and I am certain MY readers would never offer any other kind). More to the point, I fear that having talked about the play, I will no longer feel the need to write it. I told the story, it’s done. It can happen.

In fact, I think I’d better shut up now.

Happy Friday, everyone.