NaNoWriMo! Yup, it's that time of year.

While getting ready to take on NaNoWriMo again I decided to do something totally counterproductive.  I took a little while to look back on all my unfinished projects that I could be working on, instead of starting up an entirely new novel.

Ah, nostalgia. It’s so powerful and sort of hurty and now I really just want to go back to them and dust them off and work through the rough bits. But no, I’m going to set them aside and try to do something totally different.

This year, my project is a perfect example of three things I never write.

1.      It’s just straight fiction. There’s no speculative/fantasy/scifi/steampunk/magical realism tag attached to that ‘fiction’ label, it’s just ‘fiction’. The plot and characters never existed that I know of, but conceivably could according to the laws of nature with which I am acquainted in the real world. They’re just people, doing realistic people-y things.

2.      Its ‘literary’ which in this sense means that it works with the more modern model of a novel. Instead of building the conflict to its peak and then resolving everything/offering closure etc., it builds the conflict to its peak and then end the story in such a way that it really just leaves the reader to think about it and draw their own conclusion. I’ve always found this to be crap, but apparently it’s what really smart writers are supposed to do now. Whatever. Pretentious goons. We’ll see how that part of it goes. I may decide to give it a classic ending after all, but I’ll try for this, unless I choke on my own affectation.

3.      It’s not my idea. This is a big weird deal for me. Other people have offered up suggestions to me before, usually the conversation starts about like this, “Oh you write? That’s so cool, I wish I could write. I’ve got all these ideas, but I just don’t have the time. Say, have you ever thought about writing a book about (insertbrilliance). I know! You should write my book for me.”

Most of the time the idea they’ve got strikes me as pretty dull. Sorry, that’s the truth. I typically reply in a toneless voice with, “Sorry, I’ve got too many of my own projects to work on. You’re going to have to write that one yourself.”

In fact that’s my automatic response whenever anyone tries to tell me what to write a book about, even if it’s a mildly interesting idea, and that’s exactly what I said when the idea for this book was first given to me.

But I couldn’t forget about it. And the person kept bringing it up again, so they wouldn’t let me forget about it. I do actually like it, I began to realize.

I’ll go ahead and make it my NaNoWriMo project, even though its obviously not my usual thing… In all honesty, that’s one of the reasons why I set it aside for NaNoWriMo. Because it’s so different from what I usually do, I kind of can’t see myself sticking with it for long. I’m either going to have to knock it out all at once, or forget about it.

I’m not saying it’ll be brilliant, I’m just hoping that I’ll go ahead and finish the 50,000 words as planned and then I can set the rough, rough draft aside and get back to my other projects for a bit, let this poor, weird neglected child marinate for a few months/years and then when I’ve pretty much forgotten what I wrote, I’ll come back to it and see if it’s really any good.

Welsh Opera

Jensen and I have decided we’re going to write one. We talked about it a bit over the summer and then last night, Jensen actually started on it (Impressed face).

I’ve always thought writing an Opera would be an interesting challenge. It’s been years since I’ve tried to write music and maybe even longer since I really tried to annotate any of it, which means this is going to be pretty rough, I’m sure. Luckily, because Jensen is a genius, we’ve already got the plot and some of the lyric medio-formed. I’m fighting for the word owl (gwdihw, in Welsh) to appear somewhere.

So, get back to me in ten years and it’ll probably be done-ish. Jensen wants to do it full-tilt classic style. Economy of sets, just a few principle singers and a chorus, classical feel for the music. None of this modern stuff. We’re both a little sick of that.

Anyway, I scribbled up a summary for the plot that I’d love to share. Keep in mind, this is not the summary as it will appear in the program, this is the summary that I made up so that I could remember stuff.

The principles will all have names when we’ve had longer than a few hours to think about it, but right now our main singers are…

Howel – our tenor

Gruffudd – our baritone

Wise Woman – yay, alto!

EM – our soprano (I’d kind of rather her be a mezzo-soprano, but…)

Currently unnamed Welsh Citizen who gets the spotlight in the first act of the second half – another tenor, probably one of the noblemen hunters who accompanied Gruffudd out in the first act.

Then, a hearty Welsh chorus.

Part 1
Act I
Gruffudd reveals his plans as he stalks beasts in the forest. His father, the great king Llewellyn has died leaving the throne and the fate of Wales with his eldest son Howel. Gruffudd thinks this is a crap idea and expands upon all the reasons why Howel is a crap king and he'd be a much better one. Also, this hunting trip, like so many throughout history is really just an excuse to do some assassinatin'. The other hunters join him, including Howel, who clearly loves his treacherous little brother a whole ton. They carry on into the woods to hunt beasts/commit fratricide.
Meanwhile, elsewhere in the woods, an elven maiden, EM (that’s not her name, it stands for Elven Maiden), is gathered with beautiful elven children, telling wonderful stories of how humans used to be subservient to elves, once upon a slavery ago. (This can easily be changed to other elven maidens since some people immediately want to sepuku upon hearing that they have to cast kids in this thing) anyway, their merriment and story-telling is interrupted by lusty hunters (our princes and their hunting buddies) the elves spy on them as Gruffudd and the others as they murder Howel--except he's not really dead, spoiler--triumphant, Gruffudd and his pals vacate the woods, leaving Howel gravely injured, but technically still alive, which our elf maiden discovers when she falls upon his "corpse" with tender tears.

Possible song titles for this act

The unworthy brother (We start off with an aria, because really, why not?)

Of on the hunt (we/I) go

Elven bedtime at noon

Slaying the boar/I put my trust in bloody hands

Elven lament (a lovely number that will be interrupted by a somewhat dissonant high-note-of-surprise when EM sees that Howel isn’t dead.)

I’m not going to go on about the songs all the way through, are you getting the idea?

Act II
Howel awakes in the kingdom of the elves and fairies, being nursed back to health by a wise witchy woman. Their duet is a mixture of her giving him "the call" which he of course refuses, encouraging him to go and take back his kingdom and rule his people justly and fairly as his father did. Howel is interested in going back alright, but just so he can lay the smackdown on Gruffudd and with any luck die himself in the process "For how can I go on living after I've shed my dear brother's blood?!" It's all very tortured, but our witchy lady is over it. Howel feels strong again and keeps trying to flee the elven city, only to be comically deterred by the elves themselves and the witchy lady as they continue their duet. Half the chorus is all for revenge, the other half isn't, divided by gender? Works with the duet, I think. Anyway, we'll probably need to add some more things, probably with the elven maiden and the withy woman planning to bring Howel back to the path of righteousness and/or unite their two kingdoms with marriage and baby-makin'.
Act III
Gruffudd returns to the city and with big crocodile tears and an Oscar-winning performance as he describes a fantastic and completely fictional account of how his brother was killed by a (big red dragon/lion depending on what kind of symbolism you what, or what you're trying to get Gruffudd to imply--has the dragon chosen him as the true ruler of Wales, or is it significant that it was a Lion in that he is the only one who can defend them from the English?) anyway, this is the big hammy villain song-and-dance. Think "No-More-Mister-Nice-Guy" from the Swan Princess. He's saying that his glorious reign is just beginning and let the lavish festivities continue!
Intermission
Part 2
Act I
Howel attempting to woe coy EM. Very. Very funny. This is the big epic love number, but it's also the last truly light-hearted note in this whole production. Things gettin' pretty heavy from this point on. Basically EM has realized that she has true feelings for Howel and doesn't just want his kingdom, but wants him, whether he claims his destiny or refuses it, she'll stand by his side. But she'd still pretty sassy and not exactly leaping into his arm, ya know? Until the end, then there can be some snoggy-time. This will turn into a duet as well, though it starts out as two separate arias, if that makes sense. I'm thinking two totally different melodies that are in different keys, but both have key changes that eventually put them on the same level with each other, before the melodies adjust to become a duet. It makes sense in my head, and I think it'll be lovely.
Anyway, happiness is interrupted as a citizen of Howel's rightful kingdom is brought dying into the elven kingdom. He tells his sad story of how the new king Gruffudd has lived lavishly in his palace with all his friends and has taxed the people to the bone. He'd suffered a fatal injury hunting for food to save his starving family. He exhorts his king to take up his rightful place and his responsibility to his people, and dies of his wounds.
Howel sees now that revenge is not important, and neither is his brother or himself, what is important is the people of Wales! He will take the elven army and go forth to defend them, not for his own sake but for the sake of the Red Dragon! Cymru am byth!
Act II
The battle! It shall be EPIC! Lots of hacky/slashy and the final notes of conflict between EM and Howel, does she come with him, or does she stay behind? Howel goes to confront his brother and their final fight ends with Howel sparing his brother's life after Gruffudd openly confesses his crimes. Then, Gruffudd springs to kill his brother and revenge his own humiliation. EM jumps in at the last moment and kills Gruffudd to save her love. Howel's final song is a lament for his brother, whom he hopes will find a similarly faithful maiden in the spirit world, who can make him a better man, as EM did for Howel.
The End!

I am abandoning all pretense of staying on one topic, right now.

Bruschetta

            Fresh basil and an unholy forest of tomatoes grow wild in my backyard. So, I’ve been making bruschetta every day. It’s so good, I could die, but I won’t since it will be so very difficult to continue eating bruschetta without a body.

            It’s very simple and satisfying.

 

Go Cougars!

I had the longest conversation about football in my life, with five women. We weren’t just shamelessly lusting after the players, although I’ll admit that was subtext.

We also weren’t really discussing technique or the plays. More so, we talked about team dynamics and some specific games and moments that we remembered. Watching how the players interact with each other, how they work together or don’t is fascinating. Last year, BYU football was a telanovela disaster. SO much drama. It made me think of the Team Psychiatrist in The Natural.

            The cougars really could have used some help last season, and maybe they got it because it got better.

            It’s rivalry week with U of U so we’re all excited. Last year, I was firmly in the U of U camp (it is my alma mater) I went to the game in my school sweatshirt and sat in the BYU student section with my friend Kate. It was pretty hilarious for the first few fumbles. Then it just kept getting worse and I thought they were going to kill me. Kate had to come to my rescue, “HEY! Peace and love people, didn’t you see The Help?!”

I actually took the sweater off eventually, I was so ashamed. My school was winning, sure, and they were winning by A LOT, but it wasn’t exactly a fair fight, and at the time, we didn’t understand why. “BYU is a good team. U of U is a good team. Why aren’t I watching a good game?”

It was a sucky, sucky game. My alma mater should not be proud of that victory. Nobody should be proud of curb-stomping someone who never had a chance. I’m not saying they should have gone easier on them, by any stretch, but maybe they should have raised the axe with soberness rather than maniacal Jokeresque giggling.

I haven’t checked in with my BYU broadcasting sources yet, and one of them is too shy around the players to get anything good (you know who you are), but I have the decided and positive impression that they’re in a much better play psychologically.

And this year’s BYU vs. UofU game cannot possibly be as bad as last year.

I’m trying to read during other weeks of the year besides the two when I’m lying on the beach near San Clemente Pier. While gallivanting around England I paid a trip to Baker Street with some far-more-cultured-than-I-am Mormon girls and felt quite ashamed that not only had I never read any Sherlock Holmes, I hadn’t even really seen any movies besides the Robert Downey Jr. ones, and I only saw the sequel because I was trapped and scared for my life on a ferry-of-the-damned that happened to have its own theatre and I thought watching something would distract me from the rocking and wailing of the Irish Sea.

Pretty much everything I knew about Sherlock Holmes could be summed up in that pipe-smoking, deerstalker-wearing silhouette. But visiting 221b Baker Street and going into the shop/sneaking into the basement conjured a curiosity.

So, I promised a few of those girls that I would indeed read the books and watch the modern day BBC show.

First, the book.

A Study in Scarlet

            To be fair, not knowing anything about Mormons in Victorian England, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle did a really great job in representing them as lecherous gothic villains. But you’d have to not know anything about them, wouldn’t you? The truth about the saints isn’t great for a detective story, the story he came up with on the other hand, made for excellent reading. I may have to become a Sherlockian one day. I think I’m enjoying The Sign of Four even more than A Study in Scarlet.

            Second, the show.

            I’m sold. I’m absolutely sold. Within sixty seconds of A Study in Pink I was weeping right along with Dr. Watson. So far, many of my favorite exchanges have been right from the book, but modernized. I do so love a show that has me crying through one scene and laughing in the next.

            I meant to just watch it a little bit at a time.

            Did not happen.

         

Last thought. A few people are harassing me about going more in depth into my summer. I promise I will.

Later.

…alright, I’ll do a little now. Here’s a journal excerpt.

London, First Impressions

Everything is CUTE!

I’m having quite a difficult time keeping myself from dropping eaves everywhere. You have to understand, I’m used to hearing British accents only in the context of a good story that I need to pay close attention to, so psychologically, whenever I catch a bit of conversation I automatically have a response that’s something like “Oohh, I don’t want to miss anything! What are they saying?!” Then I remember that it’s real life and I try to mind my own business.

And fail.