Some thoughts on plays

Doni called to say she had tickets to see FRANKENSTEIN and did I want to go with her. I got things all mixed up in my head and thought she had tickets to see Mel Brooks' YOUNG FRANKENSTEIN (the musical!). Anyway, I said yes because it was Doni and I LOVE Doni because she's the best. But dude. I was also excited to see YF.

Only she didn't have tickets to the play--or at least THAT play. She had tickets to a a filmed version of the stage play FRANKENSTEIN currently running in London. And suddenly I had anxiety because I can get nervous watching plays with no dancing involved. Especially if they go for over two hours. I get really claustrophobic, in fact. Like, the house lights go down and I start thinking, I'M TRAPPED IN THIS SEAT AND THIS SEAT IS ON THE TITANIC AND THERE'S NOTHING I CAN DO ABOUT IT. BECAUSE I'M TRAPPED.

But actually the play turned out to be pretty fabulous. It's been on my mind ever since I saw it on Saturday. It gives you plenty to think about, including the subject of who's really more monstrous, man or monster. Also Johnny Lee Miller was terrific as Frankenstein. I wanted to call him after and tell him how great he was and also ask him what it was like to be married to Angelina Jolie for five minutes when they were younger.

Thanks, Doni, for a nice evening.

A plan! A plan! Look, Boss, I have a plan!

Or at least I'm trying to get one lined up.

I'm holed up for the week with the hopes that by the end of it I can have an outline for a mystery, along with a couple of excellent chapters. Also, I would like to emerge from the end of this week looking like Angelina Jolie. A little magical thinking never hurt anyone, right?

At the moment I'm reading a book called HOW TO WRITE KILLER FICTION by Carolyn Wheat, and already it's saved me from thrashing about for several months, trying to figure out what I'm writing. Turns out I am writing a "novel of suspense" instead of a mystery. There's a distinction--sort of like there's a distinction between fantasy and sci-fi, although the two are always lumped in the same category. Basically, in a mystery, the detective is always several steps ahead of the reader. In a novel of suspense, the reader is often several steps ahead of the hero--or at least the reader is swept along with the hero as he/she is plunged into chaos and confusion.

Yes! I love chaos and confusion!

Other points worth noting: Wheat paraphrases one of Salinger's characters who says you should figure out what book you want to read and then write it. Well, of course! That seems so obvious! And yet I realize that for the past few years I've been trying to figure out what book my editors want to read. Hopefully I can find a plot that'll satisfy me and an editor. Who wants to pay me money.

How I know I've really gone around the bend

I spent the night dreaming that Angelina Jolie and I were having an intense conversation about her daughter Shiloh. "She's very cute dressed as a boy," I told her, "but it confuses people."

Movie stars these days! Good thing I'm around to straighten them out.

Basic black

Here's one thing you learn how to do when you live in New York: wear black. It's like you're only PERMITTED to wear black, especially in the fall and winter months.

Anyway. I totally took to it the year we lived there and for years and decades after I kept wearing it. Why? Because it's easy. And dramatic. And people confuse me with Angelina Jolie. Yes! They do!

But as of late I've given up on it. I want color. Especially if it's purple or orange.

So I'm sitting here trying to figure out how to make this about writing. Can I turn my shift into some larger metaphor about how sometimes you write one thing for a long, long time . . . only to realize (eventually) your tastes have changed? And that you ought to take the risk and follow where your new writing interests take you?

The answer is "no." This is just a post to say that I'm sick of wearing black. And also that I feel like eating everything in sight.