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shadowkat1. Tempting but pricey: A Writers Workshop with two Writing Professors, who specialize in genre blending. The program is supposed to address craft issues common to fiction in all its forms, whether mainstream or genre. But alas, it's $575. In Brooklyn, but $575. Also, next week is going to be busy, busy, busy and people intensive at work. (Lots of traveling back and forth to Jamaica from Manhattan - which is an hour, and various meetings that I have to present stuff in, listen closely, and/or facilitate. My job is partly to run. present at, facilitate, and coordinate meetings that involve projects that I'm procuring.) So...no. And, at this point I've taken so many writing courses, I could teach a course about it. But tempting, definitely tempting.
The science fiction novel that I'm currently working on has a huge plot bunny. Or mcguffin that I'm struggling with. It's a mystery novel in some respects. But mostly a genre blend - mystery/sci-fi/romance with noir overtones. (I prefer genre blends to straight genre, mainly because you can do more.)
The lead character was taking a new drug to deal with space sickness amongst other things and has had a nasty reaction to it. Was she poisoned or was it accidental? The drug she obtained illegally from an illegal field test. She doesn't want anyone to know that she was taking it. When they do a tox screen, none of the drug is found in her system, instead pollan from a plant that can only be found on her home planet, which she happens to allergic to, is found in huge quantities. How did it get there? She hasn't been near her home planet in 6-7 years. Was the pollan actually a component of the drug? It shouldn't be, since the drugs are made from a powder that is ground from crystals extracted from geodes found on Genie (a planet). A cheaper crystal than the M'Kran crystal that the lead character's family mines on her home planet, which they have the monopoly on. In this world -- everything is run by corporations and owned by corporations, and everyone is a product of the corporate animal. When space travel was privatized in the 21st Century, corporations played around with human DNA and genetically enhanced humans and in some cases created human/alien hybrids in order to survive the rigors of space travel, and inhabit planets.
Anyhow...the plot bunny that I'm wrestling with is - is the pollan part of the drug's makeup because it is part of the geode's makeup? Which is illegal and cheating. The Geode being, in fact, a synthetic creation and not organic to the planet, and therefore, illegal and against the rules? (Geode's must meet regulatory standards and not be synthetic creations - due to potentially disasterous side-effects.) I don't know if that works. It sounds a bit complicated and convoluted, the reader could get lost -- I'm getting lost. Hmmm. Except I like detailed plots.
My difficulty with stories...is I have a tendency to come up with convoluted highly detailed plots, mainly because simple plots bore me. And let's face it, I'm mainly writing these stories for myself. My last book was successful, because I pulled back significantly on the plotting.
Being almost done with Patrick Week's The Palace Job -- I can see I'm not alone in this. That's one of my quibbles with his book, the plot is taking over the story, it's so convoluted, that everything else is falling by the way-side, and the reader is getting a bit lost within the plot gymnastics. (I've been skimming a lot, one too many convoluted and boring action sequences that end abruptly, then pick up later...and you think, wait, did I miss something while skimming? No, apparently not. This was the problem I was having with romance novels, except it was one too many sex scenes...)
Which, in summary, is why I found the writing class somewhat tempting. I'm tempted by writing courses, mainly because much like art classes -- I tend to enjoy them. But they can be wickedly expensive and time-consuming.
2. Saw The Robber Bridegroom today, 2pm matinee showing, which was relatively uncrowded. I got to move up five-six rows. So that I was about five to six rows from the stage.
It's a fun, interactive musical, told in the style of a tall tail and adapted from Eudora Welty's short story of the same name. Actually, Margaret Atwood used the idea in her novel, entitled The Robber Bride. Stephen Pasqual who is known mainly for various supporting television roles, portrayed the lead character, Jaime Lockhart. And the man definitely has a pair of pipes on him - he can sing, and well. So could the others, but he's really good. They had a live bluegrass band on the stage, which intermingled with the actors.
I've recently re-discovered my love of bluegrass music, so thoroughly enjoyed it. It was put on by the Roundabout Theater Company, an off-broadway, not for profit company. They put on numerous plays each season. Afterward, they were collecting funds for HIV Drive - so I gave a donation.
I wouldn't say it was great theater, but definitely worth the price of admission -- and enjoyable.
Some interesting gender metaphors and cultural metaphors on play during it. And it has fine old time poking fun at stereotypes. A bit off-color in humor, may offend a few folks out there, and definitely raunchy, but fun.
Debated getting tickets to Richard the II at BAM, with David Tennant in the lead, but alas, it's sold out - standby tickets only. And I don't have the patience or time to do standby, did that in my 20s.
Remember doing it in London - to see Phantom of the Opera, which had just opened in London. I was so disappointed by the performance, that I swore never to do it again. (We stood in line every day after class for a week. I was in London in the 1980s for a Theater Studies Program, we saw theater and wrote critical meta-reviews about it. It was mostly classical theater, Shakespeare, or 18th Century pieces. I don't think we saw anything that was modern.)
I make it a point to see at least three theatrical performances a year -- my favorite art form is live theater. I adore it to pieces, but I'm not willing to spend hours waiting in line for it any longer. Some people love live music (which is sort of wasted on me, (can never hear it properly and I found watching people standing and singing on stage boring), I love live-storytelling. It's a bone of contention between my brother and I, he adores live concerts, hates theater, I'm the exact of opposite. To me -- story and metaphor and characters are everything. We have similar differences regarding our taste in art as well - he prefers conceptual art or minimalistic abstract art, I prefer art that tells a story or conveys an emotion or feeling. Although we are similar in some ways as well, neither of us have any paintings, posters, photos, or drawings on our walls - yet we're both artists. Which my niece and parents consider odd. We also both prefer serial television series. Neither of us play video games or are into spectator sports, we watch them with ambivalence. Having a sibling feels at times like a double-edged sword, or a gift that spits in your face, repeatedly.)
3. The city is in partial bloom. Lots of flowering trees in my area, and the weeping willows in front of my apartment complex and along Ocean Parkway and Ditmas Park are quite lovely sprigs of kelly green. The areas becoming increasingly gentrified. And more populated than it was when I moved to NYC back in 1996. Today, I was once again near the vicinity of my office -- making me miss the days the office was situated in Jamaica, not in the city. Talk about culture shocks. Old office was in a run-down Carribean/Haitian neighborhood, and next door to various projects or low-rent housing. New area is rather upscale in comparison. We're next door to J Crew and across the street from Brooks Brothers. Oh, and Berkely College is just down the block. Before it was Jamaica Community College. And each Wednesday, they'd give away food to the homeless and destitute in Rufus King Park. While at the new location, it's ice skating and wine bars in Bryant Park. The homeless are studiously ignored. One young guy's been rather industrious, he's set up shop between two doorways next to Barnes and Noble. He lies on a mat, with a blanket. Sheltered underneath the awning. With a sign - I'm homeless, friendless, with no family, and no job -- please help. One day, I gave him five bucks. Now, I'm beginning to wonder why no one has moved him into a shelter. In Jamaica, they were moved into shelters. Also, he seems rather clean and well-kept for a homeless person.
The Roundabout Theater was located between 6th and 7th avenues, off of 46th street. Just a few blocks north of the fancy Grace building, which houses amongst other things, HBO Television and Film Studios. (I applied for a job there once in the licensing department, glad I didn't get it, it doesn't pay well and I'd have been bored out of my mind in a month.) Lots of fancy clothing stores on Mad Avenue and 5th, such as Brooks Brothers, Ann Taylor, Elle Tahiri, J Crew, Paul Stewart, Urban Outfitters, and Sketchers (less fancy). Not so much on 6th and 7th, which are reserved for restaurants and cultural venues, like the Steinway Piano Store. Few trees until you get to Bryant Park. It's very much the concrete and glass jungle that you've seen on television, where you feel like you are walking through a concrete canyon of buildings, various shapes, sizes and styles. But all painted gray, brown, white, and black or shades of each.
I've lived and worked around the city for so long now, that I barely notice. And zig-zagging through lots of people to get from point A to point Z is second nature to me now. It has it colorful touches for the observant - the buskers who perform underground and above ground, the clothing styles, which included today, a man walking towards me in a kilt. The various spoken languages and accents.
The city has a buzz to it, a vibrancy...that sings beneath one's feet. An energy. It can be exhausting at times. By the time I got home, which took about 45 minutes, I was exhausted. Weirdest thing, it takes about 45 minutes to get anywhere in this city, regardless of where you are coming from. It's bizarre. We used to joke about it. Took me exactly 45 minutes to get to the theater and to get home, and it was 18 stops on the subway. Straight shot on the F, thankfully. Got off in front of the HBO store.
The science fiction novel that I'm currently working on has a huge plot bunny. Or mcguffin that I'm struggling with. It's a mystery novel in some respects. But mostly a genre blend - mystery/sci-fi/romance with noir overtones. (I prefer genre blends to straight genre, mainly because you can do more.)
The lead character was taking a new drug to deal with space sickness amongst other things and has had a nasty reaction to it. Was she poisoned or was it accidental? The drug she obtained illegally from an illegal field test. She doesn't want anyone to know that she was taking it. When they do a tox screen, none of the drug is found in her system, instead pollan from a plant that can only be found on her home planet, which she happens to allergic to, is found in huge quantities. How did it get there? She hasn't been near her home planet in 6-7 years. Was the pollan actually a component of the drug? It shouldn't be, since the drugs are made from a powder that is ground from crystals extracted from geodes found on Genie (a planet). A cheaper crystal than the M'Kran crystal that the lead character's family mines on her home planet, which they have the monopoly on. In this world -- everything is run by corporations and owned by corporations, and everyone is a product of the corporate animal. When space travel was privatized in the 21st Century, corporations played around with human DNA and genetically enhanced humans and in some cases created human/alien hybrids in order to survive the rigors of space travel, and inhabit planets.
Anyhow...the plot bunny that I'm wrestling with is - is the pollan part of the drug's makeup because it is part of the geode's makeup? Which is illegal and cheating. The Geode being, in fact, a synthetic creation and not organic to the planet, and therefore, illegal and against the rules? (Geode's must meet regulatory standards and not be synthetic creations - due to potentially disasterous side-effects.) I don't know if that works. It sounds a bit complicated and convoluted, the reader could get lost -- I'm getting lost. Hmmm. Except I like detailed plots.
My difficulty with stories...is I have a tendency to come up with convoluted highly detailed plots, mainly because simple plots bore me. And let's face it, I'm mainly writing these stories for myself. My last book was successful, because I pulled back significantly on the plotting.
Being almost done with Patrick Week's The Palace Job -- I can see I'm not alone in this. That's one of my quibbles with his book, the plot is taking over the story, it's so convoluted, that everything else is falling by the way-side, and the reader is getting a bit lost within the plot gymnastics. (I've been skimming a lot, one too many convoluted and boring action sequences that end abruptly, then pick up later...and you think, wait, did I miss something while skimming? No, apparently not. This was the problem I was having with romance novels, except it was one too many sex scenes...)
Which, in summary, is why I found the writing class somewhat tempting. I'm tempted by writing courses, mainly because much like art classes -- I tend to enjoy them. But they can be wickedly expensive and time-consuming.
2. Saw The Robber Bridegroom today, 2pm matinee showing, which was relatively uncrowded. I got to move up five-six rows. So that I was about five to six rows from the stage.
It's a fun, interactive musical, told in the style of a tall tail and adapted from Eudora Welty's short story of the same name. Actually, Margaret Atwood used the idea in her novel, entitled The Robber Bride. Stephen Pasqual who is known mainly for various supporting television roles, portrayed the lead character, Jaime Lockhart. And the man definitely has a pair of pipes on him - he can sing, and well. So could the others, but he's really good. They had a live bluegrass band on the stage, which intermingled with the actors.
I've recently re-discovered my love of bluegrass music, so thoroughly enjoyed it. It was put on by the Roundabout Theater Company, an off-broadway, not for profit company. They put on numerous plays each season. Afterward, they were collecting funds for HIV Drive - so I gave a donation.
I wouldn't say it was great theater, but definitely worth the price of admission -- and enjoyable.
Some interesting gender metaphors and cultural metaphors on play during it. And it has fine old time poking fun at stereotypes. A bit off-color in humor, may offend a few folks out there, and definitely raunchy, but fun.
Debated getting tickets to Richard the II at BAM, with David Tennant in the lead, but alas, it's sold out - standby tickets only. And I don't have the patience or time to do standby, did that in my 20s.
Remember doing it in London - to see Phantom of the Opera, which had just opened in London. I was so disappointed by the performance, that I swore never to do it again. (We stood in line every day after class for a week. I was in London in the 1980s for a Theater Studies Program, we saw theater and wrote critical meta-reviews about it. It was mostly classical theater, Shakespeare, or 18th Century pieces. I don't think we saw anything that was modern.)
I make it a point to see at least three theatrical performances a year -- my favorite art form is live theater. I adore it to pieces, but I'm not willing to spend hours waiting in line for it any longer. Some people love live music (which is sort of wasted on me, (can never hear it properly and I found watching people standing and singing on stage boring), I love live-storytelling. It's a bone of contention between my brother and I, he adores live concerts, hates theater, I'm the exact of opposite. To me -- story and metaphor and characters are everything. We have similar differences regarding our taste in art as well - he prefers conceptual art or minimalistic abstract art, I prefer art that tells a story or conveys an emotion or feeling. Although we are similar in some ways as well, neither of us have any paintings, posters, photos, or drawings on our walls - yet we're both artists. Which my niece and parents consider odd. We also both prefer serial television series. Neither of us play video games or are into spectator sports, we watch them with ambivalence. Having a sibling feels at times like a double-edged sword, or a gift that spits in your face, repeatedly.)
3. The city is in partial bloom. Lots of flowering trees in my area, and the weeping willows in front of my apartment complex and along Ocean Parkway and Ditmas Park are quite lovely sprigs of kelly green. The areas becoming increasingly gentrified. And more populated than it was when I moved to NYC back in 1996. Today, I was once again near the vicinity of my office -- making me miss the days the office was situated in Jamaica, not in the city. Talk about culture shocks. Old office was in a run-down Carribean/Haitian neighborhood, and next door to various projects or low-rent housing. New area is rather upscale in comparison. We're next door to J Crew and across the street from Brooks Brothers. Oh, and Berkely College is just down the block. Before it was Jamaica Community College. And each Wednesday, they'd give away food to the homeless and destitute in Rufus King Park. While at the new location, it's ice skating and wine bars in Bryant Park. The homeless are studiously ignored. One young guy's been rather industrious, he's set up shop between two doorways next to Barnes and Noble. He lies on a mat, with a blanket. Sheltered underneath the awning. With a sign - I'm homeless, friendless, with no family, and no job -- please help. One day, I gave him five bucks. Now, I'm beginning to wonder why no one has moved him into a shelter. In Jamaica, they were moved into shelters. Also, he seems rather clean and well-kept for a homeless person.
The Roundabout Theater was located between 6th and 7th avenues, off of 46th street. Just a few blocks north of the fancy Grace building, which houses amongst other things, HBO Television and Film Studios. (I applied for a job there once in the licensing department, glad I didn't get it, it doesn't pay well and I'd have been bored out of my mind in a month.) Lots of fancy clothing stores on Mad Avenue and 5th, such as Brooks Brothers, Ann Taylor, Elle Tahiri, J Crew, Paul Stewart, Urban Outfitters, and Sketchers (less fancy). Not so much on 6th and 7th, which are reserved for restaurants and cultural venues, like the Steinway Piano Store. Few trees until you get to Bryant Park. It's very much the concrete and glass jungle that you've seen on television, where you feel like you are walking through a concrete canyon of buildings, various shapes, sizes and styles. But all painted gray, brown, white, and black or shades of each.
I've lived and worked around the city for so long now, that I barely notice. And zig-zagging through lots of people to get from point A to point Z is second nature to me now. It has it colorful touches for the observant - the buskers who perform underground and above ground, the clothing styles, which included today, a man walking towards me in a kilt. The various spoken languages and accents.
The city has a buzz to it, a vibrancy...that sings beneath one's feet. An energy. It can be exhausting at times. By the time I got home, which took about 45 minutes, I was exhausted. Weirdest thing, it takes about 45 minutes to get anywhere in this city, regardless of where you are coming from. It's bizarre. We used to joke about it. Took me exactly 45 minutes to get to the theater and to get home, and it was 18 stops on the subway. Straight shot on the F, thankfully. Got off in front of the HBO store.