Wednesday, June 30, 2004
Partly cloudy; warm and humid
Artist First sent me a date for my individual radio broadcast. I really want to do it, but I told them I’m also on KIC’s July 27 Broadcast – did they want me to do both, how did they want to handle it, etc.? It can be confusing to be so many people! Do they want to interview Devon or Christy or Cerridwen or . . .?
July newsletter is almost ready to go. I should be able to run it next Monday as planned, and get it out. I’m waiting on the postcard mailings until I know whether or not the strike is on – I might need the money for bills and food, and then the mailing will have to wait.
Got the extension on the Halloween story until Monday, so at least I can do a decent rewrite on it, once I’ve finished it, and submit something good.
There are so many queries, library letters, and conference letters that need to be sent out. If I can’t have more hours in a day, I need to find a way to have more energy in the hours I have.
Filled the large 2004 Desk Calendar – it’s so great to see all the deadlines in front of me. Now I can get the 2005 and start filling in those deadlines.
The next episode or so of The Widow’s Chamber sprang nearly fully formed into my head on the train platform. I frantically scribbled notes so I wouldn’t lose it. It will explore the dynamic between Matthew Darby and Nora a little more closely.
I’m still reading The Selected Letters of Dawn Powell and loving it. She has a great David Belasco story in it. As I’ve worked two shows at the Belasco, and am quite well acquainted with Belasco’s ghost (and fond of it), I love Belasco stories. I wonder if Powell and I would have gotten along.
She hated MacDowell Colony, but enjoyed Yaddo. Considering my previous bad experience even applying to Yaddo, and my desire to apply to MacDowell for next year, it points up even more differences between us.
I made a quick list of what I’d need to bring to MacDowell – should I first apply and then be accepted: computer, printer, paper (reams), pens, notebooks, folders, my journal, my research materials, bottles of water, books for research and books to read, yoga stuff, and at least a case of wine. I wonder if there’s Internet or if I’d have to sneak off every few days to post updates on the blog. It would fill the trunk of the car with plastic bins full of stuff. My friend G. suggested I’d be better off staying home.
Tensions were high in the matinee due to the uncertainty of a strike. There’s also, among certain crew members, far too much territorial b.s. going on. And those who complain the loudest are the most likely to walk all over the others doing the exact same thing.
At least I managed to give my friend The Magical Household as her moving gift.
I had dinner at a Mexican place on Ninth Avenue. The food was good – the burrito was as big as my thigh – but the waitress was rude, and I wasn’t having it, so I ended up with a polite waiter instead.
Reading Powell’s letters from Paris – couldn’t she at least have tried to have a good time? – and reading about the Deux Magots made me suddenly hurt for the Greenwich Village cafes at which I used to spend so much time. Le Figaro, on Bleecker and MacDougall, is a particular favorite. I started going there in college, writing term papers there. A rock musician moonlighting as a waiter soothed me once when I came in, in tears from a Temp Job From Hell. Don’t remember the job, but remember the waiter.
So I stopped off at the Coffee Pot, on Ninth and 49th, a Hell’s Kitchen coffee place I used to frequent when I lived in the neighborhood. (Honey, you can gentrify all you want and call it “Clinton”, but it is and always will be “Hell’s Kitchen”). There were plenty of writers scribbling in notebooks. Some were serious. Some may have posed. But it was nice to be among them again.
I want to go to Paris in the fall of 2005. (Plan ahead much?). I can start working on my French – and my Latin – the Latin always makes the French absorb more quickly. I can research places and prices. I can get some more travel articles under my belt to get paid to go there.
One of my colleagues is very excited about the idea and wants to visit me while I’m there. She’d thrive in Paris.
Second show was interesting because Mrs. Bush and her daughters came to see the show. So we had our very own Secret Service Man backstage. I’ve done a bunch of these gigs, and I enjoy have the Secret Service there. These are men and women at the top of their game, totally on the ball, very alert, very intelligent, usually with wacky senses of humour and very personable (well, as much as they can be, given that they’re on high alert the entire time they’re there). Some people get freaked out having them around; I find it a pleasure. Probably because I love being around people who are excellent in their chosen fields. And this guy had never been backstage at a show before, so it was truly a revelation to him – the organized chaos, the speed, the skill, and the laughter that goes into putting up a show every night. Because, let’s face it, what we do back there every night is pretty amazing, if I say so myself. And I still get a thrill every time I walk through the stage door.
Good stuff all the way around.
Artist First Radio wants me to do the July 19 segment, even though they know I’m doing the KIC show on July 27. I have to write a commercial for them and put together a packet like, well, now. It’s all good.
I am so tired my head’s about to hit the keyboard.