Saturday at the Movies #83 - The Woman in Black.

Chances of me getting to the theater this week = zero, and I may have shared this trailer, or an earlier version of it before, but with a day that tanked this badly, this early (did not get the promised snow, did get hubby home from work with same cold he gave me, blinding sunlight assaulting my corneas, and my Sims2 installation borked, which means I get to go hunting for the disks for my basegame, which are not where they are supposed to be, and I am the only Simmer in the household,so this is most curious.)I believe I get reasonable margin of error in this regard.

A suitable metaphor for my morning, only this image is cuter:

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But this isn't about me. This is the weekly movie post, though if I had the opportunity to sit in a dark room and consume popcorn and gummi bears while somebody tells me a story, I would be all over that, and out of the current offerings at the local cinema, this would be the one. Historical English setting, actor whose work I've been wanting to see, mysterious cloaked woman character, gorgeous feel to the visuals...yep, I'm there. When I get the chance. Spooky historical movies definitely register on my radar.



I haven't read the novel by Susan Hill, but I do know that there is at least one big departure from the original story, which irks me on principle, but A) I have not seen or read either version, and B) I find it interesting that such choice was made with such a young actor in the lead, so we'll see what's what with that during the actual movie.

What about you, faithful readers? Will you be seeing The Woman In Black? For those who have seen his prior work (or like me, haven't) how do you think he rates as a grown-up actor? What sort of role would you like to see him tackle next?

Welcome to my Monweek

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Monweek (noun) - a week that is comprised entirely of Mondays.

That should about say it all. In one week (and it's only Thursday, whimper) our family has had one car in the shop, one laptop with firewall issues (mine) and two blue screens of death (mine and mine) and mercurial moods depending on the type of internet connection, an exodus of non-ready-to-be-tossed socks at the most recent laundering, the temptation to rename my day planner "Schroedinger's Schedule," due to simultaneous planning of dates/plans that must be assumed to both work and not work at the same time and...well, you get the drift.

Hence the term "Monweek." Maybe it's seasonal, maybe it's something in the water, but I know I'm not the only one in my circle to be having a Monweek. We've all had them. Those weeks that invoke Murphy's Law, when everything that can go wrong, does, and at the worst possible moment. Still, unless said Monweek involves one's untimely demise, they don't last forever.

Even with the Monweekiness of the last few days, there have been good things. A good meeting with one of my writing friends helped talk me down from the ledge of writerly despair. My TBR shelf, at least the one I have planned to tackle first, has been whipped into shape. I have distinct plans for both reading and writing in the foreseeable future, and I like having those concrete goals written out, with accountability. DH surprised me with pizza (always a good thing) on the evening he came home to find me lying down on the bed with my laptop and Sims2 (the laying down was the key here, after wrangling baskets of laundry as well as other things after the second Monday-in-a-row.) Saturday will be spent with good friends and home cooked deliciousness. Sunday will be ticking a goal off my professional goals list for the year - join NECRWA. Internet wonkiness has combined with aformentioned meeting with writer friend to get me back into the meat of the current ms, and though perfectionism is bound to come trying to sneak in through the kitty door again, for now, it's off bothering someone else. Probably scared away by all the bad words hurled at high volume toward the blue screens of death.

Of course, after Sunday comes...you guessed it, the next Monday. We'll take that one when it gets here.

There's a PE teacher in my head, and it's writing related.

Only three days left in NaNo, and I'm pretty sure I'm not going to make the goal. This is not a whine, but an observation. Right now, before today's session, I am at 43833 words, and if I write 2056 words per day for the next three days, I'll sneak in under the wire. Do I see that happening? To be totally honest, no, I don't. What I've learned the most from this year's NaNo is that I do best when I keep to my process. Blorch first, then highlighters, sticky notes and numbered scenes, then outline, then flesh. Assemble story notebook with sections for hero, heroine, villain if needed, history and plot. Images of important things. Soundtracks.

That's what I did last year, and I won. That month spent in Georgian England with Slate and Melanie, two wounded souls with tragic pasts, who find wholeness and healing in each other, and Master, the only villain I've created so far who made me have to get up and walk away from the keyboard because he creeped me out too much, flew by. I still have the notebook at the ready, and as soon as I get the current ms polished and making its rounds, they're up next for front burner treatment.

This year, well, not so much. It's not that I don't like Tamsen and Alec, because I do. It's that I don't know them well enough to tell their story yet, so it's like trying to give a guided tour of a place I've never been to myself. Sure, I had a quick look at the brochure; I know that Tamsen tells far more than she thinks she does by the rings she wears on all fingers, I can see the rolling swagger of her walk and I know that she and Alec are destined to spend their lives together on the high seas in a matter more lawful than she might choose and more risky than he might pick on his own. I do know that they are each other's perfect mate in the nautical as well as romantic sense. I know Tamsen's parents, Cornelis and Lydia, are what I envision as living their happily ever after...and after. I know what a pirate ship is. I know what Port Royal is, and the events of the climactic earthquake...keep eyes peeled for an Unusual Historicals blog post on that for November 30th.

I know the events of the story, and I can pound out the plot points (and dear bullet points, how I miss you with the heat of a thousand suns) but how the romance develops? No, I don't know that yet. I have to live it along with them. With the large amount of words (and I will be thrilled to go back to counting pages in December) left to write and the short amount of time, what keeps me from throwing in the towel and sparing myself the misery? My high school PE teacher, Diane Nappier.

High school was not my favorite part of life, and PE was pretty much tied with math as most dreaded course, as I was not built for either one. Ms. Nappier came at her job with all the passion of someone who's found their calling, and I admired her for that. Though I lagged badly at the lone cross country run our class attempted, I still remember Ms. Nappier pointing something important out to the miserable group of us struggling in the back; the finish line was in sight, and we weren't allowed to quit if we could see the finish line. We could pace ourselves, we could walk if we had to -I did- but once we could see the finish line, quitting was no longer an option.

Every time I think about hitting the delete key and settling into a comfy chair with my e-reader or selections from my TBR shelf, it's Ms. Nappier's voice I hear in my head, and I keep on going. Can't quit when the finish line is right in front of me, no matter how far it seems.

Saturday at the Movies #31 - Movies I Need

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Yep, one of those weekends. I could use a good movie today, as my brain is scattered, schedule convoluted and the day is going to be a long one, the part of it requiring the most energy and concentration coming at the tail end. Writing needs to happen, but it feels like going to an empty well, so that right there is an indication it's time to refuel.

Reading is not a problem; after coming off my reading fast, I now have four books I'm reading at once (more on that in another post) but days like this, it comes down to the basic need to sit in the dark and have somebody tell me a story. Having a big bucket of hot buttered popcorn and some gummi bears can only enhance the experience. (I would also accept spice drops or Hot Tamales.) In an ideal world, that story would be one of these:

Never Let Me Go:


Deuling versions of Wuthering Heights?

This


or this?


I already wanted to see An Education, but knowing that Nick Hornby wrote the screenplay, it is now a burning need.


The trailer for A Single Man has no words at all, but definitely entices:


None of these are available to me at the moment, hence the frog in my chai. Harumph. If you could see any movie in the world right this second, what would that be?

Saturday at the Movies #30 - grousing and coming attractions

This picture is from a couple of years back, but I can verify that it looks pretty much the same as my current surrounds. Still steering into the skid on the non-reading but as the DH is home tonight but in need of extra snooze time, it's going to be reading or a DVD and at the moment I'm not inspired in either direction. On the other hand, I've gotten farther along in a Sims neighborhood than I ever have before and I've been making a ton of art. I almost went to see The King's Speech again yesterday but while the spirit was willing the body was in need of a nap. As we are currently Netflixless (but considering remedying that) my choices are restricted to what's on hand.

Since I recently recovered my copy of About A Boy, this may be an option. Definitely have to snag How I Met Your Mother DVDs at the next opportunity, since I'm on a strong Barney/Robin kick at the moment,and these fan-made promos are only adding fuel to the fire.




Ditto on acquiring Bones DVDs, so a trip to a few local libraries to see who has what may be in order.



Since I found that tango scene last week, I'm very interested in getting my mitts on a copy of Easy Virtue.


Liam Neeson's Unknown looks like it will lure me into the theater in the very near future:


But tonight's choice? Still anybody's guess.

Monday tired writer rambles

That's what the calendar says, and by 'calendar' I mean the date I see on the interwebs, because I have yet to find the calendars our family will be using throughout 2011, and have begun my "I may as well make the calendars this year" threat/promise.

Anyway, the polar bear above is doing a fairly accurate impression of my mental state this morning. This comes from three straight nights of partial sleep. Still, it has been confirmed that I am indeed part Weeble and so I will allow the Mssrs Ben Folds (music) and Nick Hornby (lyrics) to peek into my brain and sing my anthem here:


Part of this week is set aside for my RWA chapter's semiannual Book in Six Weeks program. Pretty much the same thing as NaNo, so time to prepare. I'll be delving into the Regency era for the first time with this story, working title I Would Know You, but it's not in or near London, no ton, no rakes, no bluestockings, no wallflowers, but you do get star crossed lovers, a hero with PTSD, an opium addicted heroine and the hero's sister who loves big brother a little too much and not in the right way. I can't wait.

What's on your schedule for the week? More importantly, anybody know where I can find a really good spiral bound planner?

Happy Dance Friday #30 - It's Beginning to Look a Not Like Christmas

At least around here, it is. No snow yet to speak of, and due to the Cold That Would Not Die (but since has, huzzah) decoration at Stately Bowling Manor has consisted entirely of hanging our lighted wreath (in the bathroom this year, but that's another story) and putting the tree-made-out-of-ornaments on the table in the kitchen. No lights yet, have watched no Christmas movies or TV, have read but one Christmassy romance and it didn't work for me, alas. No candy canes have yet crossed our threshold nor a single drop of eggnog. I am disgustingly far behind on the making of presents and aside from getting all my Christmas themed paper arts stuff in one location, have done nothing in that venue either. Plus grumping that Moonlight never got to have a Christmas episode.

No, this is not a whinge, and I am going to get spiritual for a paragraph, so if that's not your thing, hop down to the videos. Christmas for our family is about remembering and celebrating the birth of Christ, and we can do that no matter what is or isn't on the ground, walls, tree, etc. Nobody and nothing can squash that, but dagnabit, I want all the sparkly, shiny, insanely bouncing about on a sugar rush under a glittery tree stuff as well.

All of which means we are long overdue for Christmassy happy dancing. Normally by this time of year, I'm bouncing around like Olivia Olsen in this clip from Love Actually. Embedding disabled by request, so click here to watch or listen below and do your own cavorting:

This next one might be a good candidate for a Christmas waltz of the slightly melancholy variety, but I flailed like an overexcited Kermit when I found that Coldplay had a Christmas song. Let me repeat. Coldplay has a Christmas song.

Back to Love Actually (come on, we know I'm going to have this movie on a loop for the next week) "Christmas is All Around." Oh Billy Mack, how I wish you were real. Yes, it's horrid, and yes, we love it. Long form of the video here (costumes may be NSFW) and listen here:

Okay, all better now. Everybody grab some tinsel and join in:

What never fails to put you in the holiday spirit, whatever your holiday may be?

In Between Days

In short, I hate them. The plan I had was to let my NaNo project, Nothing Short of Heaven, sit for a few days before I had another look at it, but my brain keeps wanting to go back to Slate and Melanie. Maybe they aren't done with me yet? What I do know is that I have fallen into the habit (okay, deliberately cultivated would be more accurate) of making new words in the morning hours and not having this to work on puts me in a huge funk.

Which in a normal world would mean time to work on the next historical. Only I don't know what that one is yet. As I am one of those people who has to have multiple stuff in various stages, the new-new spot is in need of filling and not having it filled drives me bonkers. There is a vague, extremely rough idea, which leaves me splashing about in the primordial ooze. Nobody has names yet, I have no idea where or when this book is set and it's entirely possible that I will need to ravage the other ms that is on life support to give parts for this one.

I will grumble. I will flail. I will need to gently but firmly be pointed back towards my other story "kids" that still need my attention. I will need to be reminded that I have submissions that have been requested and need to put those big kids on the bus because they are ready to go out into the world. I will need to resist the urge to pick up the sleeping toddler of my NaNo story because if I wake them before they are rested, we will both end up cranky and fussy. I will use this blog as my methadone to keep my fingers moving on the keys and making words in the morning. I will grumble to other writer friends who will walk with me through these in between days as I walk with them through theirs. I will have friends and family press books into my hand because nothing in means nothing out.

The time will come, when I least expect it, of one of these vague outlines of characters will introduce themselves with a name and I'll figure out their era. (A lot of them make me work for it, figuring out when they live from information they work into their babbling, and I have at least once had to hunt down the era going solely by the heroine's hat.) Then things will fall into place and I will be back in blorch stage, racing to get absolutely everything in my head into a file.

But today is in between, at least for the morning. After lunch, it's editing and polishing, and that is far more defined. Until then, Ben Folds, everybody....

Happy Dance Friday #24 - Grumpy Dancing

Everybody has grumpy days, and since I've landed smack in the middle of one, that does affect the choices of clips. Thankfully, I have longtime friend and writer buddy E. Catherine Tobler (who writes wonderful and gorgeous fantasy stories) helping out as guest grumpy dancer. Join us as we stomp about and growl.

This video from Scissor Sisters sets the mood:

E suggested this tidbit from Sophie Ellis Bextor, and it makes me think of what my time travel's heroine, Summer, might do if she ever completely lost her marbles.

Also from E, a classic 80s dance ditty, with bonus Nathan Fillion. Dance isn't the main focus, but it sure is fun, so in it goes:

It's okay to have grumpy days, and a good friend will always help get through them. Grab a nearby bud and crank up the volume: