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tues, sept. 30, 2003
a random list of movies i still need to see:
sunday, sept. 28, 2003 love advice from amazon.com As I was procrastinating for the 80th time today, I read the following advice on someone's Listmania Book List: Catch and Release: Don't Kill the Romance
"Love doesn't just sit there like a stone; it has to be made like bread; remade all the time, made new."
saturday., sept. 27, 2003
quote of the day
We need to understand that sadness is as much a part of this life as joy.
It would be easy to just get bitter and cold while focusing on the dark side,
but there is also an amazing, wonderful side of life.
If you look for it, there is true magic all around us.
Maybe that sounds trite to the hardened, self-protective modern ego,
and if you open yourself, you do make yourself vulnerable to pain.
But the deeper the pain you experience, the deeper the joy you can have."
tues., sept. 23, 2003 quit throwing rice Everyone I know seems to be getting hitched. And not just because they're pregnant, or need a tax deduction or think it's the logical next step after waiting the appropriate 4 years of dating. Nope, it seems everyone I run across is blissfully hopping down the isle of matrimony because they're deeply in love. And I'm pretty sure I hate them. I know, I know -- marriage doesn't equal happiness, or even fidelity for that matter. But dammit. I honestly thought I was going to be with that last guy a really long time. I didn't even care if he ever proposed, I was just happy that I found someone who had similar interests and didn't think it was tacky that I knew all the recipes in the Elvis cookbook by heart. In hindsight I know now that I should have at least waited until he was good and ready before I asked to move in with him. Truth be told, I should have just keep my apartment so we'd each have an opportunity to escape to our own space when things got too annoying. But what the hell did I know? I was in love and couldn't wait to mix our laundry together in a romantic fantasy of domesticated bliss. Just like a Snuggles commercial, without the possessed teddy bear frolicking in the towels. I know I've belabored the whole "I should have done this instead of that" discussion when it comes to my last relationship. And I probably will never truly forgive myself for all the craptacular mistakes I made with him. I mean how much of a rookie do you have to be to know that when your guy asks for more space, don't comment on how much you'd like to move in? If your fella gives you a drawer, don't take a closet. And for the love of RC Cola, do not, I repeat do not read his email to find out why he's stopped coming home at night. Yeah, if there's a dunce cap for relationships, I'm still wearing it. So why am I bringing all this up again, after I've so successfully pretended to be full of glee with my fab-new-single-city-girl lifesyle? I blame the following entries and their blissfully happy married bloggers: *sigh*
mon., sept. 22, 2003 the movie in my head When you begin to write a novel a funny thing happens. You're not just writing scene after scene with languid prose you prize or cross out over and over again, but you are also casting a movie. I simply cannot just write. I have to see the people in the scene. Hear them breathe, whisper, gasp, scream, chatter to themselves in the bathtub. These aren't static characters either. They're all cast in my head from the get-go with past lovers, enemies or innocent film actors who have no idea I'm using them in a naughty non-SAG union way. It really is quite a shameful act on my behalf. But that's a perk of being a writer. We can choose our own cast of characters and allow them a new fate whether it be fighting off evil or getting a well-deserved happy ending. Of course, I have a habit of spending more time casting my characters and listening to an imaginary soundtrack then writing scenes to give them something important to do. Well, that's not entirely true. I've already put my heroine in harm's way of pretty much every paranormal baddie you can imagine, and she still kicks ass. In fact, she harnesses the kind of inner strength I envy. Part of the storyline has her keeping a possible lover at arm's length because she has more important things to do than let herself get lost in the eyes of her troubled, but of course equally charming, love interest. My girl would rather find a murderer, then participate in her own petite mort. She's got to save us before she can save herself. Any writer who tells you that her main characters have nothing to do with herself is full of crap. I don't think I could bring myself to even bother writing chapter after chapter unless I could see with my main character's eyes. Her visions are mine. Her smartass remarks are exactly the phrases I've uttered on a regular basis. Her attraction to a fictional lover mirrors my attraction to a composite of my past loves. It's bizarre the more I actually allow myself to ponder what it is that I'm doing here. And the creepy thing is that I'm finding myself falling for this character. He's got the accent of one lover, the glare of another and of course the naive self-destruction of yet another lover. If I couldn't save any of them, I can at least save this guy. Even if he's not real. (Let's hope for my sake he doesn't really exist somewhere.)
Sat., sept. 20, 2003 Return of the Bon I'm back. Honest. I promise never to leave you that long again. When you're without home DSL, life sure can get lonely. No AIM buddies. No Friendster. No blogging at 2am. Sad times indeed. But I'm back, and damn if I'm not gonna whip Grrl.com back into shape! During the week, I'm still doin' my thang at Lucasfilm, Ltd. and learning quite a bit about Jedi, Wookiees, Ewoks and Slave I. If you want to learn anything, and I do mean anything about Star Wars, pop on over to the Star Wars messageboards. I admin there, so if you see bonniegrrl, that's me. I'm also in the middle of writing a horror/romance novel. If I was in Hollywood I'd pitch it as Underworld meets Buffy Vampire Slayer meets C.S.I.. It has faeries, elves, vamps, werewolves, humans with special paranormal talents, goddesses, witches, trolls, a cute British love interest, demons and a few ravers thrown in for good measure. It's all set in my current home of San Francisco. My wall is covered with photos and pics of all the characters for inspiration, and my soundtrack includes a ton of techno, Goth classics, P.J. Harvey, Radiohead, NIN and a dash of Johnny Cash. I'm about 1/4 of the way done with it and I hope to have a publisher if I can impress her with it. I'll tell you one thing... it's damn difficult to write a romance novel when you're tapped out in that dept. In fact, I have do problem spending hours writing about a crime scene (I've been known to empty a room with my talk of determining time of death on a corpse by studying the insect larvae left behind). But when it comes to fleshing out a love scene or putting into words the passion my main character feels for her troubled partner. Well, that's just painful. Seriously. What do I know about love? I don't want to write a predictable bodice ripper. And quite frankly my heroine is too busy saving us puny mortals than to take time out for smooching some dreamy sidekick. Bah. If you have any suggestions, hand them over. I need to finish this sucker! I'm also editing a hush-hush book project which should be headed to the publishers soon. Once I have the go ahead to talk about it, you can be sure I'll be promoting the thing day and night on this blog. Trust me. Also while I'm all self-absorbed here, I wanted to send a shout out to all the pals who've been keeping me sane and reminding me that the world isn't so bad: Darren, Becca, Erin, Teresa, Kirsten, Marvin, Bill, Gayla, Steve, Jonas, Brandi, Wiley and the good folks in my office at Lucasfilm. You all rock. By the way, I'm revising my fave blog list... do you have a favorite one? Please nominate it in the discussion area! Thanks.
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Memorizing This:
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