A May of Tree Houses
Yesterday, I wrote 1,176 words on "The Ape's Wife," but did not find THE END. An unexpected scene occurred, and I allowed it to as it seemed important. The total word count for the story presently stands at 7,716, and it's not supposed to go past 8,000, so...I need to wrap it up today in only another 284 words. Hey, Rocky! Watch while I pull a rabbit outta this hat! Well, we shall see what we shall see. This is not an exact science, as some are wont to say. After the writing yesterday, I asked Spooky to read the entire story thus far back to me, and I am pleased with it. It's doing those things I wished for it to do, with a lot of surprises thrown in, and really, what more could I ask of it? I did note yesterday that it appears to show the influence of our just having re-read Slaughterhouse-Five. So, thank you Mr. Vonnegut.
I have remarked many times in interviews how I find it difficult to write without music. What I haven't said much about is how often I'll find a particular song that, for whatever reason, seems to perfectly express the tone of the story I happen to be writing and how I then proceed to listen to it over and over and over and over until the story is finished. For example, on Thursday I discovered that Tori Amos' "Bouncing Off Clouds" had the perfect tone to which to write "The Ape's Wife." And yesterday evening, at the end of the day's work, my iPod reported to me that I had, in two days and over about nine hours, listened to the song 130 times. I did not, of course, consciously listen, but some part of my brain heard and so the song helped to propel the story forward. It seems this sort of thing would drive a sane woman mad.
Someone - I cannot recall who - asked about the biplanes that were used to shoot Kong off the Empire State in the 1933 film, and I said I'd post a photo, and here it is (behind the cut):
What else about yesterday, Sissy called from Tampa, and I spoke with him, and then Spooky spoke with him. After the writing, we walked to Videodrome for Kid Night movies, and to the market for Kid Night food. It was cloudy and the weather was cooler and windy, with an actual bit of nip to the air. We both remarked that it sort of felt like Rhode Island, near the sea. Our Kid Night movies began with Dave Meyers's 2007 remake of Robert Harmon's 1986 The Hitcher. I haven't much to say, one way or another. I haven't seen the original since 1986, so I can't really trust my comparisons of the two. Judging this film on its own merits, as though it were not a remake, well, it's not as bad as I expected. The soundtrack is unfortunate. Sean Bean does his best, but surely was miscast. There's a certain grim satisfaction in the ending, but it's still far less satisfying than the end of Tarantino's Death Proof. Mostly, one is left with the feeling this could have been a much better film, if only it had tried just a little harder. The second feature was Ishirô Honda's Gezora, Ganime, Kameba: Kessen! Nankai no daikaijû (1970), though I prefer the deliriously inaccurate English title, Space Ameoba. This is not Ishirô Honda anywhere near his best, but there were some funny bits. I think Spooky enjoyed it more than i did. Still, a good Kid Night double-bill, all in all. And afterwards, we read three more chapters of The Children of Húrin.
Anyway, the playtpus has heard enough about "Bouncing Off Clouds" and devious space amoebas and asks that I get to work, as it's already 12:41 p.m. And once the short story is finished, I must get back to work on the screenplay. But I leave you with the following bit of wishful thinking (behind the cut):
I have remarked many times in interviews how I find it difficult to write without music. What I haven't said much about is how often I'll find a particular song that, for whatever reason, seems to perfectly express the tone of the story I happen to be writing and how I then proceed to listen to it over and over and over and over until the story is finished. For example, on Thursday I discovered that Tori Amos' "Bouncing Off Clouds" had the perfect tone to which to write "The Ape's Wife." And yesterday evening, at the end of the day's work, my iPod reported to me that I had, in two days and over about nine hours, listened to the song 130 times. I did not, of course, consciously listen, but some part of my brain heard and so the song helped to propel the story forward. It seems this sort of thing would drive a sane woman mad.
Someone - I cannot recall who - asked about the biplanes that were used to shoot Kong off the Empire State in the 1933 film, and I said I'd post a photo, and here it is (behind the cut):
What else about yesterday, Sissy called from Tampa, and I spoke with him, and then Spooky spoke with him. After the writing, we walked to Videodrome for Kid Night movies, and to the market for Kid Night food. It was cloudy and the weather was cooler and windy, with an actual bit of nip to the air. We both remarked that it sort of felt like Rhode Island, near the sea. Our Kid Night movies began with Dave Meyers's 2007 remake of Robert Harmon's 1986 The Hitcher. I haven't much to say, one way or another. I haven't seen the original since 1986, so I can't really trust my comparisons of the two. Judging this film on its own merits, as though it were not a remake, well, it's not as bad as I expected. The soundtrack is unfortunate. Sean Bean does his best, but surely was miscast. There's a certain grim satisfaction in the ending, but it's still far less satisfying than the end of Tarantino's Death Proof. Mostly, one is left with the feeling this could have been a much better film, if only it had tried just a little harder. The second feature was Ishirô Honda's Gezora, Ganime, Kameba: Kessen! Nankai no daikaijû (1970), though I prefer the deliriously inaccurate English title, Space Ameoba. This is not Ishirô Honda anywhere near his best, but there were some funny bits. I think Spooky enjoyed it more than i did. Still, a good Kid Night double-bill, all in all. And afterwards, we read three more chapters of The Children of Húrin.
Anyway, the playtpus has heard enough about "Bouncing Off Clouds" and devious space amoebas and asks that I get to work, as it's already 12:41 p.m. And once the short story is finished, I must get back to work on the screenplay. But I leave you with the following bit of wishful thinking (behind the cut):