Aug 14, 2010 22:06
I found a family of baby rats today. I was digging the compost heap at the community garden when I noticed something shiny and grey wriggling amidst the rotten egg shells, mud and wood lice. Soon the viscous thing broke apart into three tiny sets of blind eyes searching for a way back inside the heap. Everyone stopped what they were doing and gathered around me. "Baby mice!" I said. Someone lifted one by its very long tail and corrected me: "baby rats." "Where's the mother?" someone else asked. We all stared silently at the heap and shuddered. There was something trying to poke out of the mud - like that bit in Alien - so I raised my shovel in self defence. It turned out to be four more baby rats. We pulled them out and put them in a cardboard box. Nobody knew what to do with them. We couldn't exactly rehouse them but nobody had the guts either for drowning the lil cuties. When I came home, the impasse still stood.
I'm on the third episode of Dynasty's first season. During a glamourous dinner, Blake Carrington's daughter smokes a spliff in the garden with her cousin while her closeted gay brother reads Emily Dickinson to one of the guests in the library (the guest that just came out of the loony bin.) I'm loving it. (I'm quite surprised at the amount of versions for the theme song on Spotify; and the same for Dallas.)
It would be kinda fun to write an 80s style bonkbuster centred around a rich and powerful family (much like the ones I used to write when I was fourteen - inspired by my mom's Sydney Sheldon collection). Or a reboot script for Dynasty. I think there's a market out there in these banker bonus times.
the sun always shines on tv,
push th' little daisies,
the never played symphonies,
the wild ones,
reader meet author,
glamorous glue