Wednesday, March 23, 2005

Wednesday, March 23, 2005
Waxing Moon
Saturn Retrograde
Jupiter Retrograde
Mercury Retrograde
Snowy and cold

From spring back to winter. It hasn’t quite started snowing yet, but it’s seriously considering it. The prediction is six inches by tomorrow. Don’t know if I believe it, but I’m going to the store anyway – the cupboards are a bit bare, and I need to restock.

Day work was fine. It was a day for sewing lots of buttons and snaps back on that came off in quick changes. Note that I left for the dresser: “J’s legs are downstairs.” Now, in the real world, that’s a piece of bad writing. But in the theatre world, it makes perfect sense and gets to the point quicker than actor/costume/explanation. In case you’re wondering what it means, the Tin Man legs needed repair – one actually left the building to get a new knee put in, and I took down the other so they could decide whether or not to replace that knee, too (they are). The repairs weren’t complete by the end of the call, and I left the dresser a note so she’d know something wasn’t in the place it should be and has the time to retrieve the legs. There is not time during the show – preset is where everything has to be checked. Ideally, the day worker has everything ready to go, and the dresser sets the changes, brings up the laundry, does any little detail work he/she preferred to take herself rather than leaving to day work, etc. But sometimes, things aren’t done and are still in the wardrobe room for repair, or have been taken for a fitting, etc. So I leave a note. There’s nothing I hate more than coming in to do a track, checking over my pieces, finding that something’s missing, with no idea of where it might be. Of course, on days when there’s no day work, it’s up to the dresser to touch up whatever needs it along with the preset.

Came home and got into a spring cleaning fever. There’s a day bed that’s accumulated far too much stuff over the past months. I cleared everything off and sorted it all out. I have two 50 gallon bins of fabric now. It’s all sorted and I know what’s where, which is good, because I have several projects that either need finishing or are set to start. I resorted the t-shirt bin – I tend to accumulate tee shirts from my travels, and I like to keep them and actually wear them. I put aside a stack of clothes to donate – some of them are close to new – I wore them once for something work-related and will never wear them again. So off they go. I have a stack of ironing to do – and a broken board, so I’ll borrow one from my neighbor. I threw out what’s beyond repair and can’t be salvaged for fabric, and I found accumulated paper that either had to be filed or tossed. So that one small area is redone and it inspires more such cleaning.

It took two hours to resend the issues needed for Charlotte, Angel Hunt, and Tapestry last night. I have to reformat Widow’s Chamber today. Hopefully, that will hold us for awhile. I’m getting behind on the actual writing, and I want to stockpile, so when the system is back up, they’re ready to go.

I heard from the Quick Sell editor – she wants the 55,000 word novel before the novella. Sigh. I have to rethink my schedule, etc., now. I don’t know if I can take on a project of that dimension right now and do it well, especially something that is so rigidly structured. But it would sell, and it would sell before the end of the year. I have to mull it over.

The story I submitted on Tuesday night, “Dogs on Beach” (as Christy Miller) was already accepted and put up on Emerging Women Writers:

http://www.emergingwomenwriters.com/emerge/index.php?cat=15

I’m fond of the piece, and it’s set on a local beach. I got the idea one spring, when I spent every nice day walking on the beach watching the dogs playing and making friends.

I wonder if the exterminator shows up today, or it will be another Godot morning. I need to get the groceries in and then settle down for a long afternoon of writing.

During the spring cleaning, I came across Alice Koller’s Stations of Solitude. As someone who needs a great deal of solitude, the title must have intrigued me at some point. But I’ve read less than ten pages, and I’m arguing with the book. Once I’ve read the whole thing, I’ll discuss it in more detail. I understand her point of view, but I disagree with the extremity of it.

I require enormous stretches of solitude. A few years ago, I refused to marry a man I truly loved because he couldn’t be alone for more than thirty seconds. Literally. He could never just sit and be. The house always had to be full of friends, there always had to be plans to go out, there was never time for quiet. We tried to find a compromise – he could go out more than I did, whatever. It didn’t work. He can’t handle any solitude and couldn’t comprehend how it could be a necessity to anyone else. So that was the end of that. We are still genuinely friends and keep in close touch, but I would have had a nervous breakdown within the first year. Not to mention the fact that I couldn’t get any writing done.

Thank goodness I’m now with someone who revels in quiet as well as enjoys periods of sociability.

Off to try and outrun the storm.

Devon
www.devonellingtonwork.com
http://www.keepitcoming.net/widows-chamber.html
http://www.keepitcoming.net/tapestry.html
http://keepitcoming.net/angel-hunt.html
http://www.keepitcoming.net/cuthtroat-charlotte.html
For a free issue of any of the above, click the appropriate link and download.

2 Comments:

At 9:33 AM, Blogger Colin said...

Maybe you've already read it, but 'The New York Trilogy' examines solitude in three, intertwined stories. It made me think of solitude as a friend and gave rise to much inspiration in my own writing.

I recommend it:
http://www.paulauster.co.uk/thenewyorktrilogy.htm

Col

 
At 6:31 PM, Blogger Ann said...

I can relate - I can't stand long stretches of time without some time to myself. And every last Sunday of the month I treat myself to a day ALONE in a nearby city - no work, no church, no family, no friends, no nothin' - just bookstores and maybe a movie and drives and finding a quiet place in the country to sit in my car and read under the trees. I feel so refreshed after that day.
Ann

 

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