Wisdom from Kung Fu Panda

"The past is history. The future is a mystery. Today is a gift - that's why it's called the present."
-Wu Gui

Conversation

Wife: My highschool classmate's father died. In his sleep.
Husband: How does one die in one's sleep.
Wife: I imagine it's very peaceful.It's like a dream or a nightmare, maybe.
Husband: And you can't wake up. That doesn't sound very peaceful.
Wife: Still, you're dead. No pain.
Husband: It's not good for the people at home, either. It would be kind of a shock.
Wife: It's like a heart attack in your sleep.
Husband: A heart attack in your sleep doesn't sound peaceful at all.

Beat.

Wife: You want to go running right now, don't you?

Odd realisation

Great writers are a dime a dozen. It's great storytellers that are rare. One isn't necessarily the other. A great storyteller who is a mediocre writer is just slightly better than a brilliant writer who tells a poor story.

In the meantime...

there were movies. Iron Man was a more than just your usual comic book hero romp. This is because of Robert Downey Junior who infused his Tony Stark with an iron fist full of real world sardonic wit, as well as smarts. And who knew Gwyneth could channel more heat as a red head?

And then there was the breathlessly and long awaited Sex & The City movie, which was intensely pleasurable, when while it was not without flaw. Its authentic moments surpassed its inauthentic ones which were both tolerable and excusable, at least to those well-acquainted with the characters. Noteworthy too is the "Philippines! Philippines!" moment - a small speaking role essayed by Ms Ching Valdes Aran as Big and Carrie's real estate broker.

Last night, we saw Caspian, which I felt surpassed the first Narnia film, particularly in terms of pacing and characterisation. It is also interesting to note the director's choice to make the Telmars Spanish. Why are they Spanish?

Last on the list is the Indiana Jones fourth...which pretty much everyone has panned. This weekend we will see that but take care to bring in our pockets plenty of managed expectations.

March 23 - June 8, 2008

During this period, I started and finished a book. I'm not sure it's a great book, but it is my first book, such as it is and due recognition must be paid, at least by me.

September 1 is the start date of the next full-length project, working title: "The Real Thing."

In the meantime, I dream the little dreams, note the little notes, plan the little plans and do the prep work.

More novel thoughts

I had been feeling disgruntled and discouraged in the process of writing this book. I treated it like another copywriting job. Big mistake. Because of that, I wasn't as emotionally invested as I should have been. So I chugged along and got it down, but I wasn't enthralled. Enthrallment is a great motivator.

Then came deadline week. And then the word was that I needed to turn this baby in...today. So I came home from a day of tennis, lunch with the ladies and half-a-dozen shopping errands, sat down at my computer and took a look. That's when I discovered that by just changing one thing...in the middle, I was able to heighten and energise the whole thing, and consequently, that inspired a more natural ending, I think. That was kind of neat - that I could just go in and tweak it, goddess-like - and have the whole thing change and get revitalised somehow.

It is by no means perfect. But I feel much better about it than I did. What's more, I know how to go about this process better next time. And there will be a next time, for sure.

For now...at least, I'm happy to say I'm 2000 words short, but I see more clearly what it is I have to make happen. Once that's done...well then, I can go and do the next one.

With a hell of a lot more emotional investment.

I used to think

as a writer, I could write anything.
I was wrong.

Ending Epiphany

I ought to have finished the book three days ago. But it is more difficult than I thought it would be. And the writing goes more slowly the fewer words I have left to spend, if that makes any sense. Am on page 158 and keep backtracking and rewriting and going round and round the same paragraphs, trying to determine the best way to end this. I am now realising why so many of the promising contemporary novels I have read go pretty much to pot from the climax onward, all the way to the end. And that's because it's very hard to pull off a convincing ending. But it has to end...and soon...
People are beginning to breathe down my neck...

Another novel thought

I am at pages 138. I figure I have to start wrapping things up. Perhaps about 60 to 70 pages to go. No more than that.

I also feel that things ought to be coming to a crescendo. And it's a little dismaying that they don't seem to be. Yes, circumstances are playing themselves out. Characters are moving, seem to be growing and they're talking a whole lot. But I am not sensing the kind of urgency that the later pages of a novel ought to be invested with. Am I stuck in a long novel? Qualm qualm qualm.

At Border's yesterday, I looked at the books in my "sector"...and came across only one that was something close to three inches thick ala War & Peace. The others were at a comfortable inch or inch and a half.

But it struck me as self-indulgent. I recall RS from 100 years ago saying to me, thin books don't sell. But still.Unless you're talking about an epic with a cast of thousands like, say War & Peace, I really have difficulty reconciling that kind of length in this kind of sector.

Call me a cynic. But one of the genuine charms of this genre resides in its brevity.

I think.

One more idle Idol thought

Neil Diamond was a fun night and all. But it occurs to me that there are other songwriters that deserve Idol nights. Off the top of my head, what about Kenny Rogers, Billy Joel, Abba, The Carpenters, Michael Jackson, Diane Reeves, Patti Austin. A Patti Austin night would be cool.

Is Idol COOKED?

As in...niluluto in Cook's favour?

Something funny happened on IDOL that made T and I think that maybe the show is pre-arranged. Paula made a boo-boo which cast today's show in a dubious light.

This evening, the final five had two chances to perform. All five sang their first songs, and then the judges were asked to weigh in. Except when Paula was asked to comment on the first contestant, Jason Castro, she commented on the both his songs - even though technically, he hadn't sang yet!

Now by itself,that wouldn't be much grounds for anything. What lent the proceeding even more suspicion was the reaction of both the judges as well as the final five themselves to Paula's blunder. They were tense and poker-faced as though hoping against hope that she would pull it together and recover by herself.

She didn't.

The funny thing was even the contestants looked blank. If I were Jason, it would have shown on my face - "Whaddya mean my second song? I haven't sung it!"

But it didn't show. It didn't show on anyone's faces.

Quickly Simon had to rein things in and jump in with his comments, thus keeping Abdul from giving her (literal) two-cents worth on Archuleta, Brooke White and Sayesha. Phew.

Now what was that about?
Wierd.

I am realising...

that when you write a novel, you live in a fictional world. And when real world work crops up, it is a torturous and frightfully difficult thing to drag yourself out of the world you have created and into the one that you actually exist in physically. The act causes you to experience a sensation that's akin to seasickness or the nausea of pregnancy.

It's interesting the things this is bringing to my surface.

Overwhelmed

In the dawn of this new year, I wished for bounty. Here we are on Month 5, and I continue to be surprised and overwhelmed by everything that has been falling my way. I am realising however that I need to stop being an open basket of possibilities. At a certain point, I need to make choices - accept some things, reject others, and confront what is always my difficulty - trusting my instinct about what I want, what I need, and what is right for me.

This of course means that I must also say no. Saying no is yet another way of doing what is right for me.

Good advice not just for would-be Idols

"I want you to do two things. First, open your eyes. Second, open your eyes."
Sir Andrew Lloyd Webber to David Archuleta

Archuleta says, 'Take That, Cook!'

Who doesn't like David Archuleta? What's not to like after all? He's cute. He's got appeal. He's disarmingly humble. (We should remember all the past idols have been humble, and this may be Cook's Achilles heel).

And no one can deny the Archuleta kid can sing.

But beside David Cook's vocal inventiveness, I had always thought Archuleta was the lesser David. Someone who is talented but at the end of the day, not ready. Not certain enough in the person that he is. Nice, yes. Cute, yes. As good as bubble gum pop or vanilla ice cream. OK...maybe even French vanilla...with a cutesy boyband twist. Nothing like the raw, edgy strength and confident energy that is the foundation of Cook's capable pipes.

But tonight on the Andrew Lloyd Webber show, Archuleta came back. He said, you want inventive? I'll give you inventive.

He sang Think Of Me. Think of me???!!!! WTF! Who would have thought? OK, edgy it was not, but it was new and different and pretty cool. Loved the acoustic sound! And really I think he has transformed a Broadway hit into pure pop for a new generation of listeners who wouldn't have ever heard this song their entire lives if he hadn't sung it. He made it sound like a Stephen Bishop song. Or a Rex Smith song. There were shades of Simply Jessie. Good, it was great. And although it was nice to see a different side of David Cook, his theatrical Music of the Night was solid enough, but it paled in comparison to the novelty of Archuleta's performance. Little David, as ALW called him, is not going to be taken down that easily. Or at least not without a fight. This David is taking on his Goliath. And the song was a clever slingshot.

Other idle Idol observations to nowhere...

*Why is Simon trying to slow the Archuleta tide? I thought his comment was way off.
*I am a fan of Brooke for making the most of what she has and working with her limitations, but come on. You can't mess up twice in the season. First with the restart in the Sting song. And then restarting the orchestra for You Must Love Me. That said, I thought it was a good song choice for her. It was written for Madonna after all...another one who has made the utmost of her vocal limitations.
*I also thought Carly Smithson got a very very unfair advantage. ALW steered her clear off her original choice of All I Ask Of You which would have been a certain disaster and would have gotten her kicked out tomorrow. As it is, she's safe just because she was saved from her song choice. Why didn't he steer my friend Jason off of Memory?

Who's coaching these kids? In Project Runway, you always have that designer guy on hand to steer them clear off bad mistakes. No one's doing that for them on Idol. What the contestants should understand is that Idol is about pop music and the broadway show show is about making a stage hit sound like it's coming through to you on the airwaves, ideally in a hit record.

That said, here are some pop-able ALW songs in no particular order that could have been attempted tonight...

Unexpected Song, Come Back with That Same Look In Your Eyes, as well as Tell Me On A Sunday Please - all from SONG AND DANCE. JESUS CHRIST SUPER STAR's I Don't Know How To Love Him was made pop in the 70s by Helen Reddy, and could have been done again. It would have been interesting to see someone do Simon Zealotes for kicks. Or maybe David Cook could have sung Heaven on My MindPr "Could We Start Again Please." Some of the other new songs written for the movie version of EVITA, also possible as well as Another Suitcase in Another Hall. Barbra Streisand did All I Ask Of You, so it didn't really make it as a pop hit...

Clearly I could go on...but there's been enough idle/idol time.

Another crack me up Castro quote

"I didn't know a cat sang it!"
(about Memory)

New addiction

There is a beautiful outdoor cafe by the river. Nestled in a quiet corner beneath the shadow of a bridge, it sits in the shade of large trees. Sitting there, you feel each and every breeze that comes off that green river and even though there is a roof over your head, you are soaking in the great outdoors even while the free wireless flows your way along with the sunshine. The staff are friendly and nice and don't mind wild cackling or if occasion warrants, impromptu dancing. They serve good coffee with lovely cookies, which I will sometimes succumb to. But most of the time, I will have my iced green tea and me and the swingapore sister will write write write away...and push that word count up up up to the heavyside layer. There it is easy to sink into that meditative, creative state. Just say Eehhhhhmmmmmmmm....

I call it river-writing. Heartfelt thanks to my chicklitclick master for discovering it and showing it to me. It rocks.

Meanings of dreams

When he asked me to marry him, T promised me he would love me, be faithful to me, and always always interpret my dreams. I thought that was very romantic, but I have come to understand why he said that. Very shortly after the wedding he confessed in truth my dreams are pathetically transparent, pose absolutely no challenge and get this, they never did. He said I have what is known as a very literal subconscious - the has no real reason for being because everything in me is right there for all to see, very very close to the surface and ultimately, out there.

Anyway, last night I dreamt that my friends are waiting for me and quickly getting very irritated. I cannot go with them because I have left my bag as well as my watch at the far end of this very long strip of sandy beach. I then try to hurry to get my things but walking quickly in sand is very difficult and slow-moving, and my things get further and further away the more quickly I try to walk. My friends begin to show their aggravation. Some start to laugh at me. I hear them in the distance, and start feeling desperate. I have no idea why I am so slow...like I am in a dream. And then I realise I am dreaming, and I wake up.

T says my dream is about me recognising that right now in my life, I am spacing out and I am realising that if I don't come out of it soon, I know I will face much ridicule even from those who are on my side. Although it may be an easy one, I must say he has always been one for the shrewd and snappy dream interpretation.

The way things work

At the their school, the students sometimes get awarded certificates for jobs done well, good behaviour or some kind of excellence in either academics or conduct. K has received one, and C has received something like five, much to her consternation. Today, he said he got another one for "enthusiasm in DEAR" - translated this means, when it is time to "Drop Everything And Read", C is first in line and last to put the book down. But of course he loves it. For us, his heavy-reading family, this is hardly a mark of excellence.

But C has explained to me how it works...

C: You see, K is a model student, right? And I am...
ME: You are not a bad student...you just need to behave better...
C: Yes, I am average...in behaviour...and so they give me these to inspire me to be even more good. But K is too good... she does not need to be inspired.

What do I do? He is too smart for his own good. Must mention this in next PTA meeting.

Quote for the day

...At the top of his voice, over the backdrop of LOVE SHACK playing at forte...

"Those of you who are new to Body Pump, take it easy. To the regulars, I say... welcome to the PLANET OF PAIN!"

-Andrew, the Body Pump gym instructor