tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-57083281278003397992024-02-21T02:52:24.505-05:00A Guide to Love and Romance (Novels)Isabel Starrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14624673750841102872noreply@blogger.comBlogger26125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5708328127800339799.post-27628168790903400302012-10-14T20:24:00.002-04:002012-10-14T20:24:47.092-04:00I Totally Forgot<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
I totally forgot about this. You're welcome.</div>
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<br />Isabel Starrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14624673750841102872noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5708328127800339799.post-14266395323692253102012-10-14T19:32:00.000-04:002012-10-14T19:34:00.705-04:00I Have Lost That Fighting FeelingMy cat is contorting herself in order to lick the salt out of an empty seaweed container. She has her rear paws on my bed and her forepaws on the night stand, her face buried in the rigid plastic. There is nothing I want as badly as she wants those salty remnants. I think this is my problem. <br />
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When I was younger I wanted to become an established, respected grip in the New York film industry. I called people I barely knew on holidays to find work. I dragged my weary body through two and three feet of snow for $100 a day for weeks on end. I worked for free for as many as 14 or 16 hours. I would start work at 2 in the afternoon and get home at 6 in the morning or start work at 2 in the morning and get home around 4 in the afternoon, sometimes though, it would be for $150 a day. I lived in a building with rats and roaches, then with a crazed, drunken Australian and a guy who kept a 3ft square meat freezer in his bedroom. I did all of this because I had a goal, an honorable pursuit. <br />
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Now that I have mostly achieved this goal (I say "mostly" because I am unsure how respected I am, I figure people think I am an okay technician) I feel I have gotten soft. I live in a pretty nice apartment (albeit with roommates) and don't really have to worry about my bills or whether I can afford a new book or not (most of the time). Because I have all these things, I have stopped pushing myself. The fight has gone out of me, and the idea of a new fight is wearisome. The biggest difficulty I have had so far with writing has really been disciplining myself and actually doing the typing, but I know the hard part is to come. The mailings, the rejections, the revisions, and possibly failure. What if I can't get the fight back when I need it? What if I need it now, just to finish the thing? Isabel Starrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14624673750841102872noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5708328127800339799.post-80098960890507430002012-09-25T12:36:00.000-04:002012-09-25T12:36:45.119-04:00Sun Walking TimeIt is sun walking time again. Sun walking time is when it is too chilly to walk in the shade. Shade walking time is when the sun is oppressive and even the slightly darker areas from street signs and lamp posts give welcome relief. While the sun has stopped bludgeoning us about the forehead and shoulders time has become a force resting heavily upon my just healed sunburns. The turning seasons, and start of school has reminded me again that I am getting older and the death of a friend on Sunday has made me wary of the metaphoric dark patches on the sidewalks and streets.<br />
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I am a little afraid of the real shady patches as well. On Friday morning, before the sun was up, when the city was all in shadow, I hit a pedestrian wearing all black who had walked into the middle of the street. He is relatively fine, a swollen foot and I assume quite a bit of pain, but otherwise unscathed. Wearing all black is something one is taught not to do when there isn't daylight, and I have had a very visceral reminder why. <br />
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Despite being superstitious, I do not think the universe is telling me to "walk in the light" or any other heavy handed, cliched drivel, but the anxiety in my chest is a reminder of my fears. I fear the regret of lost opportunities, and I afraid of how easy it is to close oneself off from the pains and rigors of life. <br />
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I am reading a silly book that seems to have been written to tap into all that money that is pouring into what Jasper Fforde (look him up, he is awesome) the "Urban Vampire Market." It was an accident, I thought it was going to be about witches in the sense that <u>Thornyhold</u> by Mary Stewart is about witches. Stewart's book is about a regular girl who inherits Thornyhold and the witchcraft that comes with it, but it is just herbs and dreams, nothing truly fantastic. (Other than the book, which is a wonderful book and makes me feel better about loneliness.) This book falls into the "Fantasy" genre, and while I love genre, sometimes it is just silly. Especially when there are vampires and secret fantastical creature policing agencies and conspiracies and stuff. It is really silly, and not very inventive. It is pretty much a better structured <u>Twilight</u> with a lot of the same abilities and plot points, just spread around a little differently. Oh, and there is time travel.<br />
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So here we are again, talking about time. I am worried about how I pass my time, which is to say, how I spend my life. So much of my time is taken up with work, which I must do to live. I do have to earn a living. Then I feel like the next largest portion is taken up with chores. Cleaning, food shopping, and endless amounts of laundry. I have been dealing with a bed bug issue as well, so the process of laundry involves so much more than it used to. In the end I feel as if the things I must do to live are not leaving me enough time to live. Granted, I have to sleep. I have to sleep more than a lot of people, and cutting into that would be the best way to carve out life, but it is hard to enjoy things when feeling like a cranky bitch. <br />
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I don't know what to do about this. The best I could come up with now is taking a mental health day. I am too sad and too stressed to deal with work and I need to find my patience again. There were too many times yesterday where I was ready to remind my coworkers that we are just making a stupid movie by throwing something large and breakable and pitching a fit. That is not the best way to deal with one's frustrations, really. <br />
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So, I have to work. I usually like my job, and I figured out where I can do my job without working too many hours. Now I have to relearn how to make time for living, and stop hanging out in the shadows.Isabel Starrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14624673750841102872noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5708328127800339799.post-85402364615820346262012-04-29T15:36:00.000-04:002012-04-29T15:36:43.807-04:00AllentownWell, I have not posted in almost two months, and I don't have a fantastic reason, except I didn't want to write a bunch of posts unworthy of publication, most of my posts are mediocre already. I have been writing, not as much as I should be, but I have actually sat down and put words to a digital representation of a piece of paper, so good for me. The character "Beanie" has popped up again, so it will be interesting to see how he drives the plot. I know how I want the scene to end, but the intricacies of the plot progression are less detailed in my mind, so I think it will be an interesting revelation to see how the scene pans out. While I didn't set out to write a Cinderella story, and my character is certainly not oppressed by a mother figure or hiding a secret, poverty struck identity, there is most certainly the rags to riches subplot so I have decided to go on a tramp through romance retellings of fairy tales. I haven't started yet, but I am warning you that this might further distract me from my blogging activities. <br />
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While I am sure that brief summary of my two months of not really writing was fascinating and greatly edifying, I actually have a personal life event that I think bears consideration, and I am going to use this very public and impersonal space to do so. As the ten of you who read my blog may, or may not know, I have been seeing a very fine gentleman for a couple of months now, and last week we drove to Pennsylvania to visit an elderly uncle laid up by a stroke. Of course the trip was somewhat awkward as my gentleman caller was meeting my grandparents and my uncle for the first time, and it was in a hospital room, complete with the heightened anxiety that comes with meeting the family and family illness. Just when everyone was starting to become comfortable with each other with my grammy and my dude looking at his iPad together, Uncle Joe napping away and Grandpop deciding to trot off for a hot dog, the WORST THING THAT CAN HAPPEN <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">besides cancer, terrorist attacks, biological warfare, nuclear detonation, etc. </span>HAPPENED.<br />
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Almost my entire extended family rolled up in there (literally rolled, Aunt Annie came rolling in, sitting on the seat of her rolling walker) and all of a sudden I thought I was in a sitcom. Uncle Joe was being ambushed and my boyfriend was caught in the crossfire. I couldn't have written something more embarrassing. My grammy pinched his cheek, my demented aunt yelled at him that he "picked a good one" without actually having a clear idea as to who I am or how I am related to her, and my cousin very loudly and insistently couldn't fathom how it only took us an hour and fifteen minutes to get there from Brooklyn when it took her an hour and half to get to Allentown from Trenton. Of course, on paper, none of this seems so terrible. But imagine yourself in a room, with the first guy or girl you have ever introduced to your family, and think about how you would feel if your grammy PINCHED HIS CHEEK. My boyfriend is a 33 year old grown ass man. <br />
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The rest of the embarrassing behavior is particular to the family, you know stories that your family insists on telling to all and sundry, regardless of polite requests to stop. They also kept asking why we weren't going to Jenean's for dinner, because saying that we had to get back to the city for work was not, apparently, a real reason? "Because, Jenean's cooking, ya' know. Oh, we're all goin' back to Jenean's. Why don'tcha come back to Jenean's with us for dinner?" In the light, lilting singsong of the Northeast Pennsylvania accent. It has the tones of a Minnesota accent with the cadence of the Pennsylvania Dutch.<br />
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So, the next time you see "Home for the Holidays" or any sitcom where a girl is embarrassed by her family when she brings a partner home for the first time, know that it is real. That happened to someone, it wasn't invented on the digital representation of the page. Then, remind yourself to never introduce Your Boo to your grandma. She will pinch his cheek.Isabel Starrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14624673750841102872noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5708328127800339799.post-53088025658450607632012-03-03T16:43:00.001-05:002012-03-03T16:43:52.034-05:00I Just Have to ShareHey guys, I reached 33%! This means I have written one third of a romance novel. GO ME! To celebrate I thought I would share this with you! Click on the squirrel, make sure you scroll through all the images, it is my gift to you.<br />
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<a href="http://www.regretsy.com/2012/02/29/squirrel-interrupted/"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY-5LR-Bpy-MNVIF_MmyctB6H3vb-CXwRGoRpl0bz3QENM9aRyxvsW5YeIKRGfshvswMPetywQ3kT6xuzvLjrOAUmpMVmRVyN8ZTOz575MaKBxzXLz1SRX41or00FwEkScOf1ai1n0jJQ/s320/squirrel-eating1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />Isabel Starrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14624673750841102872noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5708328127800339799.post-69438294762318398462012-02-09T21:32:00.002-05:002012-02-09T21:32:42.581-05:00A compendium of DIYSo, here we go! Make your own <a href="http://www.fao.com/whatnots/builder.jsp#">Whatnot</a>.<br />
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I found <a href="http://bighugelabs.com/motivator.php">this site</a>, the problem with this one is that every component comes from the creator, which can stymy creativity, since the perimeters are not set.<br />
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Here is what I created:<br />
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Those are my cats. That is my bedspread.<br />
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If you are an environmentalist I found <a href="http://www.epa.gov/osw/conserve/rrr/composting/by_compost.htm">this</a> for you.<br />
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<a href="http://www.discoveryeducation.com/free-puzzlemaker/?CFID=448730&CFTOKEN=22468596">Here</a> is another nifty thing I found!<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #323232;"></span><br />
<h1 align="center">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large; font-weight: normal;">I Made This For You</span></h1>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /><pre>I N T E R N E T R W R G K P K B K S O G Q H V L G
R U Q B Y D I E R B B O O A L I E N U F N O V E Q
G R F V C B F I F I L H M O W I S M T T P I N H E
H N F F O E T L G Y K D G A V J N S L P J R T W D
Q T K U R I X S S N Z N W O N H V E I Y E J B A L
P C V E N Q W W Y B C U M K B C N G N F S H X U D
Y C N G P E E Z O O B O B D V H E D E Z R L F I T
H C Q J E Q R K E O J R Z V V X L K T O M O S P S
E R C V R O H D R K S G E P W I V C I N P V L L A
B M E N U P E V O S T J Z P H F C U L D B P W L V
S P D T E L J L D Q A U V C Z D P I Y D C I M B X
K A M V C K Z V A C X Y N U X W V Q R V J C G G A
R D C D L A U Q L H J A L W Y E T V C U T M G G U
I E I K D Z R Q O T M I I A Q L T U D H I X K X O
F O I O O Y J A H X J X L L T D R C W Y F A A D Z
Y R F Z I O S I H D V A G B N I W F V K R N Y D K
X N M M N J Z E E C N M S B R R I U Q J P D L W T
D I P J U Z Z O S E A O D D P R I H K E O R F R L
F F B H X W G M G G K N V S I U W Q X J M A J F F
R H E A R T Z B U W D N P E Z N M A L K L N V S G
O B L M J Q F R M I D D S H L V V O D I M N T E F
H U Z U S Q A Y Z B W H V D B W E N I T N E L A V
T T K T L O V E J T V M N D H I I Y O R D J D U O
U Y A P O U B W K W I R G T R H Y I D D T B U B T
A C A G U F T A W G D P K Y J F P G N I T I D E H
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</span><pre><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">ADORE
AUTHOR
BLOG
BOOKS
BOOZE
CATS
CHARACTER
DATING
EDITING
GENRE
GROUNDHOG
HEART
INTERNET
ITALY
KISS
LOVE
MANCHILD
MOVIES
NOVEL
OUTLINE
PERU
REFERENCE
ROMANCE
VALENTINE
WRITING</span></pre>
<pre style="font-family: Tahoma, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11px;">
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<pre><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I hope you print this out and enjoy it!</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I made it blog, valentine, and romance novel appropriate! </span></pre>
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<pre><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">
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</span></pre>Isabel Starrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14624673750841102872noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5708328127800339799.post-38130660585639357052012-02-01T16:20:00.000-05:002012-02-01T19:51:08.545-05:00Groundhog DayI know I promised more "make your own" things. Maybe I will get to this tomorrow?<br />
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Right now I want to talk about the weather. This past fall I was very anxious that I had ruined my fall by still being physically and emotionally involved with my ex-boyfriend. I spent the entirety of my favorite season being wracked with self doubt, low self esteem, and unhappiness. As the holidays neared, and passed, I waited in dread for the long snowbound days to commence, envisioning myself cold, alone, and worse, lonely. So, imagine my surprise and joy at the fantastic January weather with beautiful, balmy days, and outings almost every weekend night with friends and new dates. Now that I am moving in to February I have social engagements most nights and I am enjoying my time, happy both in the company I am keeping, and the weather. <br />
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Yesterday I walked to a beach on the East River with my wonderful friend Geoff whom I am seeing for the first time since he moved to Portland five years ago. Afterwards I went to a delicious oyster bar with a very nice gentleman chef, then attended my cousin's birthday comedy show. With such beautiful sunshine this morning I hightailed it to the coffee shop and sat outside, reading a novel. The windows are open in the apartment and I am actually debating shaving under my arms. What? It is still winter. <br />
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My point being, weather dominates atmosphere in novels. <u>Jane Eyre</u> can be told by the weather, never mind all the coach rides, gypsies, and (possibly) bastard children. The weather seems to be giving me a second chance to move on; it is giving me the space and atmosphere to explore the world as it unfolds in the (possibly) last year of the world. Just kidding, I don't believe in that stuff. Here is to a brave Punxsutawney Phil tomorrow.Isabel Starrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14624673750841102872noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5708328127800339799.post-38904993073996195042011-12-30T17:33:00.001-05:002011-12-30T17:33:28.269-05:00Forse Trepanning, Forse Frontal Lobotomy<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
My brain feels like mush.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Mushy mushy mush.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have been
speaking Italian more or less, every day, often without another English speaker
to assist my awkward construction and attempts to explain complicated ideas in
very simple terms.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the process of breaking
down my brain to the molecular level by continuous attempts at speaking another
language, I have realized two things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
first is that I should just stick to small talk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The second being that Italian does not quite
lend itself to the elegant wording that make me so happy in
English.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That isn’t to say that Italian
does not have it’s own style and nicely turned phrases, but I have become
frustrated because English and Italian do not work the same way!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
More specifically, there are certain concepts that can be
translated exactly and ideas that have no translation one way or the
other.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is, of course, the same when
dealing with any two languages.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What I
find frustrating, is the simple things, such as not utilizing synonyms when one
feels a word or phrase has been used too much (buono/a, mi piace, che bello,
etc).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In English we have a wealth of
words that mean somewhat the same thing that can be substituted when one has
been overused.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I like cookies, I enjoy
reading, or what have you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In Italian,
as far as I understand (and perhaps this is also because I am in rural Italy) I
just have to continue with “mi piace”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(I
like) until I find something “non mi piace.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>If I want to use something synonymous it just gets complicated beyond my
tenuous grasp of the language.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If I want
to be more than “felice” (happy) to attend the New Year’s party tomorrow then
“non vedo l’ora” (I can’t see the hour, meaning “I can’t wait”) thereby
entering the realm of not just idiom, but conjugation.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have been studying the grammar for some time now, so
conjugation is not “una cosa che fare paura” (this actually translates to
“something scary” literally “a thing that causes fear” crazy, I know) but I am
starting to find myself out of a comfortable depth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I fancy myself quite competent with the
English language.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not only am I able to
present my ideas with a modicum of organization; but, I like to think I have a
sense for the subtlety of nuance that many English words carry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What am I to do when the nuance is removed
from the words and posited in the construction of a phrase?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am finding Italian word choice to be very
limiting (perhaps a good thing since I don’t really know what I am saying half
the time.)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Yesterday I was speaking with an Irishman (not a <a href="http://aguidetoloveandromancenovels.blogspot.com/2011/12/man-tit-i-mean-lit.html">man-child</a>)* who has been living here in Italy for many years and speaks mostly Italian with
his Italian wife and son.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He made the
comment that to him, Italian is the language of emotion, and English is a
working language.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He can only best
express his feelings through Italian, and he uses English only for functional
matters.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For me, I am struggling against
this paradigm as I am struggling against the constraints of how Italian is less
about the specific word and more about how every word in a sentence qualifies
the previous.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Often, when starting a
sentence one needs to know exactly what one wants to say beforehand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hence not having two words for “something
scary” but five.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At least in this
example the order of the words correlate between translations.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As my dad pointed out, Italian has not seen “the superlative
inflation of adjectives” hence a lot of “mama mia” and nothing that really
correlates to “awesome.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Again, I am
stumped every time in conversation with an Italian after I have said “si, si”
for the eight hundredth time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So, after my conversation with the Irishman (again, not the
man-child) I started to think about how I use English to convey emotion.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Often times, when writing about Christina’s
feelings, the words feel trite.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Everyone
has felt shy and out of their depth when confronted with real world problems
with their first big break out of college.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It is exactly those feelings, and how we navigate those early work crises
that develop our character, work ethic, and sense of professionalism.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I wonder if they sound trite to my ears
because English does not have the capacity to express emotion properly because
in English, specific emotions are expressed in specific words.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Italian uses whole phrases to create meaning,
why has English developed in a way that is so much more economical, and is it
also less precise because of that economy?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">*I thought about putting a link here to my ex, but that would be a) childish and b) horrendously unprofessional. When the idea came in to my head I entertained it for only a couple of seconds. I don't like to think I am <a href="http://images.allmoviephoto.com/1966_That_Girl:_Season_One_(TV_Series)/1966_that_girl_003.jpg">that girl</a>.</span></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Isabel Starrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14624673750841102872noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5708328127800339799.post-44823021609784894092011-12-24T19:48:00.000-05:002011-12-24T19:48:56.496-05:00Doing the "pretty."<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://static.someecards.com/someecards/usercards/1324773873087_53249.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="224" src="http://static.someecards.com/someecards/usercards/1324773873087_53249.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Happy Holidays. You're Welcome.</div>
<br />Isabel Starrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14624673750841102872noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5708328127800339799.post-14554589519927341342011-12-22T08:17:00.000-05:002011-12-22T08:18:52.585-05:00Seasons Greetings from Italy, Peru, the Internet, wherever<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I know I promised to blog about all my emotional travails,
but frankly I don’t really want to talk about it anymore. All my friends, half my family, and my
therapist have all heard about it and I believe I am chatted out. For the purposes of my blog narrative, all
you really need to know is that I found out I was being played by my ex and he
now will have nothing to do with my life outside the occasional workday. He tried to start a Words With Friends game
that I am ignoring. I am ignoring all of
my WWF games though, there are only so many times one can play <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zax">“zax”</a> before the
thrill is gone. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The bigger anxiety has been over my brother and while I have
not discussed this stress with nearly as many people, this anxiety has nothing
to do with romance novels or my writing, and I just don’t like to talk about
it. I just thought it important, in the
event someone makes a movie based on this blog, that I have a life beyond
books, movies, tv, romance, and boyfriends.
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
At least, I would like to think my life is more expansive
than that, but now that I have a couple of things I actively don’t want to
think about, I am having trouble remembering what I occupied my mind with
before evil men started being mean to me.
(Is “evil” too strong of a word?
Hmm…) I believe I cannot remember
because I used to be bored before all of this upheaval; I just never had
anything I actively did not want to think about. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So, I took myself off to Italy for the holidays. Well, I usually go to Italy for the holidays
but this year the vacation was much needed.
Not only was this the first year that I have worked every day(ish) for
the last six months, but all the stress I had been experiencing for the past
three weeks or so was starting to hit untenable levels. I really needed to get out. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The upshot with all of this physical distance is that I
have loads of raw material for my writing.
Granted, the majority of it has gone in to those long unsent letters
that we all write to those who have wronged us; but, since I am never sending
them I can always use that handy cut and paste option, thus using my pain for
artistic purposes. Additionally, I have
discovered new “create your own” opportunities on the internets, so as soon as
I take some pictures (new phone and computer, thus necessitating some “fotogroups” as my Peruvian tour guide used to say on my hike to Machu Picchu back
in 2005) </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirpEC0Kvg8ASTzNU4OTzwJhTLqfqvTX3h29VCdIBxWoy48HrD2k613EdeaNVR9rubo-rl2SMAoM34mruQPRtzc-tWF3-wQGmpWDG-8urosj4dumBynLGxIldjPZulzjBYicYoAeYsAqho/s1600/198968_505664073065_8401709_30013642_7959_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirpEC0Kvg8ASTzNU4OTzwJhTLqfqvTX3h29VCdIBxWoy48HrD2k613EdeaNVR9rubo-rl2SMAoM34mruQPRtzc-tWF3-wQGmpWDG-8urosj4dumBynLGxIldjPZulzjBYicYoAeYsAqho/s320/198968_505664073065_8401709_30013642_7959_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I will have a whole slew of new examples of formal creativity. In the meantime, here is the <a href="http://sendables.jibjab.com/view/zvjmrca4Caj23F8Q?cmpid=jj_fb_self_holidays">holiday card</a> my step-mom
made. I know it is slow, but it is totally worth the wait.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My Italian trips are usually a bit of a whirlwind with
scores of social obligations. Tonight I
will be rehearsing “We Belong” in the style of Pat Benatar for a non-holiday
music holiday concert in my dad’s town on the 26th. So, now I have plenty of performance anxiety
to deal with as opposed to family, travel, or romance anxiety. I think I will take the performance anxiety
any day, because the show is going to end eventually. <o:p></o:p></div>Isabel Starrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14624673750841102872noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5708328127800339799.post-77435684556902489822011-12-15T21:28:00.000-05:002012-01-01T17:30:22.690-05:00Beans and Beanie<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am very clumsy and prone to accidents. Right now I am typing this very slowly
because I cut my left middle finger open on a can of pinto beans yesterday
morning. Later in the day I rolled over
my foot with a<a href="http://oranges-world.com/data_images/sheetrock-dolly.jpg"> A-frame dolly</a> with about 30 pieces of 4’x10’ <a href="http://i00.i.aliimg.com/photo/275556609/MR_plywood.jpg">lauan</a>. I have bumps and bruises all over me. None of this, however, is as frustrating as
my sinus headaches, which are completely out of control and vary with the
weather. If it were something I was
causing I could shrug it off like my finger and purple toenail, chocking it up
to my lack of innate grace. Having no
control over my headaches (even drugs don’t cut the pain) just makes the pain
that much more unbearable.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I told you all about the day a couple of months ago when I
woke up with one of my pressure headaches but couldn’t let the day pass without
working on my novel. I had planned the
whole week to spend this day working on a section where I needed Christina, my
heroine, to be confronted with the poverty of not having any ambition to make
it in New York. I needed her to see what
it would be to not take the opportunities when they were given, leading to a
coasting and dependent existence. Sadly,
my head hurt so badly I couldn’t look at the screen of my computer. My solution was to call my ex since we had
been on friendly terms, he owed me a favor, and I couldn’t think of anyone else
who would be willing to transcribe my ramblings.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You guys remember this, right? I talked about it when I was discussing word
choice. Well, now I am going to talk
about it in terms of character development.
You see, that day I created Beanie.
My ex named him, though. Beanie
is another man-child content to sloth about and mooch off of his hard working
parents. I hold a lot of disdain for
him, I hate asking my parents for money, and I am constantly striving to get
beyond a mean and meager existence. I am
jealous of Beanie because he doesn’t think about anything too much, and he is
content to wake up on a couch that is not his own. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have been struggling to remember what I used to think
about before family troubles and dude troubles began to hold a hostile
occupation of my brain. I secretly
believe I was bored most of the time but didn’t have anything that I actively
didn’t want to think about. Today seems
to have confirmed this feeling because I didn’t think so much about my life,
but I also didn’t have much to think about otherwise. I spent most of the day singing power
ballads. My point being, Beanie has a wonderful
ability to float from day to day and meander from job, to activity, to napping
in other people’s apartments without worrying about the bills, and rent, and
the direction of his life. On the other
hand, I can’t see a very fulfilling future for this peripheral character
either. <o:p></o:p></div>Isabel Starrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14624673750841102872noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5708328127800339799.post-1571192217360832011-12-13T21:10:00.000-05:002011-12-13T21:10:11.365-05:00Man Tit, I mean, Lit.<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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I have been saving up my blogging folks!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn’t have much to talk about for a
while.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was just editing, editing,
nothing very interesting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now, however,
I have headache initiated poor decision making which lead to interesting new
characters, the completion of the first 25%, and a mess of emotional upheaval
to chat about!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am going to pretend
that I never learned how to write a five paragraph essay and talk about the
completion of the first 25%, thus leave the headaches and emotional upheaval for
the future, or tomorrow, or whatever.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
am still mentally collating the feelings, events, and literary references I
want to use when discussing my feelings and how I am going to use them to bare
my soul on the pages of a $7.99 paperback.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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So, I finished the first quarter of my book a couple of
weeks ago.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn’t immediately jump on
the blog and tell everyone because I was afraid that I would stagnate if I made
a big hoopla over finishing something that I haven’t actually well,
finished.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What I mean is, I have gotten
the first bit in to a state that I would not be embarrassed to let a random
stranger or harshly critical professor read.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It is a romance novel, so I am figuring that most critics account for
generic rules and style.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If they don’t
THEN I am in trouble.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As it is, though,
I feel pretty good about accomplishing a base layer to the whole.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I feel like I have made something solid on
which to build.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That is, of course, the
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<br /></div>
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I have also noticed that having attained this non-accomplishment
I may have acquired a bit of snobbery, or perhaps it is merited disdain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The other night at dinner with a friend in
order to discuss the hinted at life drama, said friend and I met a wandering
Irishman with intentions of writing “Man Lit.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>What is “Man Lit” you ask?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well,
I don’t really know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I thought it was
Nick Hornby and his ilk (see previous <a href="http://aguidetoloveandromancenovels.blogspot.com/2011/08/cats.html">blog post</a>) but apparently, since he
approaches feelings through a medium (such as music, you really should check
out that blog post) then he really isn’t actually exploring his feelings and it
isn’t an honest expression of how men emote.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Which I think means this wandering Irishman doesn’t have a great grasp
on metaphor, or sobriety.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well, the
sobriety is immaterial to the subject, but he was seriously drunk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I thought about maybe inviting him to my
place to talk about whatever his writing intentions were but the wandering put
me off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I say “wandering” because he
was one of those dudes who just decided to move to America without a job or money
and his first weeks were marked by couch surfing on strangers couches that he
found through an internet forum actually for <a href="http://www.couchsurfing.org/">couch surfing</a>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just ended a relationship with a 30
something man-child, so I decided I didn’t need to start hanging out with a 30 something
wandering Irish man-child.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Ageism is not actually what I am referring to when I say I
have perhaps become snotty about the writing thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am talking about my dismissal of this “Man
Lit” person as a writer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Granted, I
asked him if he had anything written and his response was something along the
lines of “nothing cohesive” (my words, he was drunk, remember, I am
paraphrasing) which I took to mean he is doing a lot of journaling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So my second question was “So, are you just doing a lot of journaling or do you actually have some notion of an overarching storytelling
device?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Which is when he said he didn’t
consider himself a “writer” yet, but he really wants to express how men have
feelings.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Either my snobbery is getting
in the way of me being fair to this guy and not making him sound like a drunken
wandering Irishman without a job, or perhaps my snobbery is just merited
disdain for deluded 30 something man-children. I have to go, the deep well of bitterness is overflowing in to my prose, and it depresses me.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Kisses!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Soon I will
bring you all a manifesto about teen murder, lying cheaters, mid-Century
British Female writers who retell fairytales using the word “cunt,” familial
discord, and exorbitantly priced shirt-dresses.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Because really, it is a shirt…dress.<o:p></o:p></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Isabel Starrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14624673750841102872noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5708328127800339799.post-22890944042287298862011-11-06T21:19:00.000-05:002011-11-06T21:19:48.082-05:00Please Don't Make Me Write an Outline<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am thisclose to finishing the first edit of the first 25%
of my first draft! I am very excited. The editing process has lead
me to fix the really terrible parts and discover ways to add some moments that
I find really interesting. I hope you
will enjoy them too. I kinda’ like my
own writing sometimes. I suppose I
should like it all the time, but I have one major difficulty with writing. The minute I have planned the whole story out
I immediately get bored and quit. Yep,
once I know what is going to happen I just can’t keep going. You see, I already know the ending and how I
got there, so why do I have to write it down?
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As a book nerd, it amazes me how tightly wound literature
can be. The best books I have read are
so well constructed it is impossible that the respective authors must have
planned down to the small details. The best example of such organized construction is Shirley Jackson's <u>We Have Always Lived in the Castle.</u> The economy of words is impressive, and the reverberations of patterns, words, and ideas winds the story to a pitch that can only end in catastrophe (in the plot, not in the writing). Dear god do I wish someone would make that movie. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I
do not have the same abilities. I tried, I had this great little
novel about a lost heiress, and maybe I will return to it someday, when I have
forgotten my intentions. Until then I
have to figure out ways to keep my own self guessing.<o:p></o:p></div>Isabel Starrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14624673750841102872noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5708328127800339799.post-65884987648073724142011-10-24T17:40:00.000-04:002011-10-24T17:40:59.558-04:00Pink Cheeked and Sassy<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Part of me wants to say that I have been sitting around,
waiting for inspiration about the writing process that will make compelling
reading. The reality is that I just
don’t have terribly much to say. I am in
the editing process, and have been for a while.
This is, of course, due in large part to not working very much on
editing. Procrastination is not quite
the right word, I wouldn’t say I have been putting it off. More, that I have
work, a blog, class, and other myriad personal engagements to attend. This week my personal engagement was the
Harford Road Zombie Crawl in beautiful Baltimore, MD. Don’t I look precious? The creepy clown is my sister.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis6s1FwWFHU0aybtDPKytonTHSP19XEEfzwiFAX6OJEI5xZ3s0dVRl0wajqyg9SN-qWBS_2Hlth474n48RWDfxAah2PrRZ16xVIKJZa_QTfvNzvLM3AFKYzkj_t3rygoIq_iJV_RNXBGo/s1600/2011-10-22_17-41-35_190.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis6s1FwWFHU0aybtDPKytonTHSP19XEEfzwiFAX6OJEI5xZ3s0dVRl0wajqyg9SN-qWBS_2Hlth474n48RWDfxAah2PrRZ16xVIKJZa_QTfvNzvLM3AFKYzkj_t3rygoIq_iJV_RNXBGo/s320/2011-10-22_17-41-35_190.jpg" width="179" /></a></div>
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</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So, because I don’t have much to talk about on the writing
front, I am going to tell my two favorite times I embarrassed myself in front
of a famous person. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The first time, I was working on the construction crew for
the movie “It’s Complicated.” I was
sitting at the lunch table, eating my Amy’s cheese enchilada plate and I looked
up as the door swung open from Camperland outside of the stage. A very tall, attractive man in that “boy next
door” adorable way walked in to the building.
Well, I am sitting there, staring at him and trying to figure out from
whence I knew him. I was so sure that I
knew him personally, but I couldn’t place him.
Did we go to college together?
No. Did we work together
once? No. Was he a friend’s older brother? Nope.
Now, I was alone, and sitting at a table that was sort of in a foyer cum
hallway, so I am sure I looked a bit out of place and by this point I had been
staring at him for longer than was necessary or comfortable for him. So, Mystery Man gives me a slight smile, and
continues over to the stairwell that would eventually lead him to the soundstage, at which point it hits me. “It’s that guy from ‘The
Office!’” My brain said to my eyeballs.
That is the story of how I creepily made John Krasinski deeply
uncomfortable for a second.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The other awkward moment happened in a restaurant in
Westchester, NY. I was working on a
small movie with a lot of big stars, and it would have been awesome if I hadn’t
been miserable. I didn’t totally love
some of the other crew members, and we were kinda’ undermanned so I was
unhappy. To top it off, I got food
poisoning from the caterers. So, we are
undermanned already and now I am green hued and nauseous. I do as much as I can, but I reach a point
when I am forced to hang out by the potties.
Well, while I am standing by to be sick Catherine Keener drops by to,
you know, freshen up. Now, she is a
super sweet lady, and was very kind to ask me if I was doing all right. Of course I told her that I would be ok but
this time my brain was silently telling Catherine Keener “I wish I wasn’t
meeting you while I am all pukey.” That
was a sad day. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When I get older my life will simply be a compendium of embarrassing
moments in front of people, famous or otherwise. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>Isabel Starrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14624673750841102872noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5708328127800339799.post-69931398707014953712011-10-13T00:36:00.002-04:002011-10-13T00:36:31.158-04:00Choose Your Words Wisely<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<!--StartFragment-->
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">I </span>have some
thoughts on word choice I would like to share with y’all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(I like to announce things, maybe you
have noticed?)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yesterday while
riding in the crew van from location to the studio for lunch* the teamster had
the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Daily News</i> or the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Post</i>, whichever one does the stupid
headlines, opened to the story about the South Brooklyn rapist.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The article began by discussing a young
lady who had been “brutally groped.”**<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I am both appalled and amused by such a strange juxtaposition of
words.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am appalled because a
young woman was groped; I am appalled and amused that it was brutal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How is one “brutally” groped?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Can someone please explain this to me?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I understand the word “grope” to imply
roughness and brutality anyway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Specificity in communication and writing has always been
very important to me, especially in terms of word choice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I love words, their variant meanings,
and the nuances that a carefully chosen word can evoke in my mind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hope that when others read worlds
within the words open up to them in the same way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Evocative phrasing feels like finding treasure in a
way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Conversely, poor word
choice is anathema to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is
nothing more grating in conversation than imprecise, convoluted, and poor
wording, because in the end, if you cannot pick the right words, how can you
make your point?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is for
this very reason that I am left baffled by a brutal groping.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I started thinking about this subject again on Monday,
before the newspaper article.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
say again, because words are what I love about writing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am more interested in the words I am
using than the story I am telling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The story is basic and can be parsed down to two sentences.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A girl meets a boy and they enter into
a business relationship.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They
become romantically attached and have to work through and look past their
differences before living happily ever after.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That isn’t really publishable, as such.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Luckily, I get to pick all the best words
I can to create a whole world around this little story.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now, I was thinking about all of this on Monday because I
woke up with the worst sinus headache I have had in easily six months, but more
probably a year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had the day off
(thanks Columbus! Side note, the Italians probably called him “Columbo” so why
do we Latinize his name?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anyone
know?) and I really needed to get some work done but I couldn’t stare at a
screen so I called in a favor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Last week I took the ex to pick up a seventies sports car he bought a
while back (what?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wanted to see
the car.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> <a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_522320456"> </a></span><a href="http://www.slowcarfast.com/MG/images_lrg/IMG_9158.jpg">It looks like this only in blue</a>.) and
so I called him up and was like “yo, type my shit.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not really, I texted him and was very polite, as befitting a
lady.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anyhoo, because I was not
typing he would occasionally question me in my choices, which was challenging
in the best way possible.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I became
more careful, more concise, in a word, precise.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As the clouds rolled in and the air pressure equalized, my
head started to feel better and I could think.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So I thought about words, and maybe became a little bit
better at writing than I had been the day before.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or maybe not.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Meh, I will figure it out eventually.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
*Sorry for dropping you in to this crazy world of crew vans
and teamsters and lunch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Basically, they feed us at work so that they only have to give us a half hour
break as opposed to an hour, and on Monday they set up lunch at the studio
because the location was not big enough to accommodate a whole buffet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The crew vans are kinda’ self explanatory
with such context I hope, and teamsters drive them.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
**I found it in the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Post</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>”B’klyn Perv Strikes Again” <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">By David Seifman, Rebecca Harsbarger
and Larry Celon</span>a. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">New York Post</i>
October 11, 2011.</div>
<!--EndFragment-->Isabel Starrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14624673750841102872noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5708328127800339799.post-61854577291485747452011-10-08T00:35:00.000-04:002011-10-08T00:35:34.301-04:00That Old Trick<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Insert joke about an elderly prostitute
here:___________________________</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I don’t actually want to talk about, you know, that. That is depressing. The old trick I am interested in is
what I like to call the “miscommunication gambit.” Sitcoms and romance novels LOVE the miscommunication gambit
to create drama or complicate the situation. I call it a gambit because many miscommunications in popular
culture seem highly unlikely and therefore a calculated construction to advance
plot. Or so I thought until Monday.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Last Friday I went to the doctor for the usual annual
physical and they took a bunch of blood.
I was pretty O.K. with it too, until I realized that it was my BLOOD and
not dyed corn syrup. Anyhoo, on
Monday the doctor’s nurse called and since I missed the call so she left a
message. The message was fairly
straight forward, explaining that I am in overall good health EXCEPT!!! The woman actually said “except!” Except one of the test results was not in yet. So I
spend the whole night thinking I had a disease. The specific disease is not your business, kids.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If my life were a romance novel either I would need to
contact my old flame because I need his marrow, or blood, or platelets. Or maybe, I got pregnant and I have to
figure out what I am going to do, but eventually the father, or some new dude
finds out and we live blissfully together, raising some other guy’s kid. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My life is not a novel. I am fine. No
sickness or babies or nothin’. I was just
stuck with a really horrible night of thinking I was diseased. </div>
Isabel Starrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14624673750841102872noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5708328127800339799.post-72041293116756547872011-09-30T20:54:00.000-04:002011-09-30T20:57:45.114-04:00Gettin' All Meta Up in Hir<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I really want to write a good, in depth post, but I have a
terrible headache and my cats have broken a bunch of keys on my computer so
typing is now frustrating and slightly difficult. It was fine when it was just the “z” key and slightly
bothersome when the “m” button fell off, but now that I am forced to hit weird
little rubbery/plastic-y nubs for “a” and “w” too I want to throw my computer
out the window. Right before I do
so though, I recall how time consuming it would be to write this on my
smartphone and I pause. Maybe I
will just throw the cat out the window next time she makes a really terrible
smelling poop. Nah, I guess I will
keep her, but seriously, those poops are toxic. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So, what do I want to talk about besides my two favorite
topics of cats and poop? I mean, I
think they have come up three times already, usually in the same sentence. (Brief aside, can I just misspell words
to avoid using the broken keys?
No? Ok.) Well, I read <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Help</i> this week since I was busy and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Infinite Jest </i>is too deep for that idle
fifteen minutes before sleep.
No, I don’t want to talk about the movie, because I haven’t seen
it. Nor do I want to discuss race,
or being dumped twice by the same guy, or even the poop cake. I will point out that clearly I am not the
only girl who thinks books should have more poop jokes though. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I want to talk about the act of
writing, and writing about writing.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Lets start with form, since I love form. The book inside the book has one
chapter written by a maid and Skeeter, who maintains this weird role of
interviewer, writer and editor.
This is a fairly straightforward organizational system. The actual
book jumps between three women’s perspectives, and even has one chapter written
in the third person. This is not
so straightforward. I understand
wanting to give the individual characters control over perspective, but I don’t
understand breaking that pattern for omniscience. Especially when the one chapter that is in the third person
is not the only time the three characters occupy the same space. I also find it troublesome that only
three of the characters control what the reader knows when they are clearly
sympathetic characters. Why don’t
we hear the story from the nasty characters too? Because we can imagine how racist and ignorant they are so
clearly their perspectives don’t count?
Isn’t it their perspectives that created the Jim Crow South? My point being, wouldn’t it be interesting
if the reader were given the perspective of a generally good person who had
this one terrible, hurtful, but socially acceptable (at the time) flaw? “Flaw” belittles racism, I know, but I
lack a better word. Blame it on
the headache. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This leads me to what I have been working on in my own
story. I want a particular
character to be likeable, but totally blind to his ego, thereby undermining his
reliability as a source of information. This is hard people. It is difficult to tell a story by withholding information. Well, withholding it until the time is
appropriate. How do I create a
likeable character with a pretty major flaw (all though WAY less of an issue than racism, on a totally different scale really), and not drop that bomb
until, like, halfway through the book?
THIS IS SO HARD! TYPING
THIS I MEAN, IT IS SUCH A PAIN IN THE PLACE WHERE MY CAT MAKES STINKY POOPS.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Goodnight.</div>
Isabel Starrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14624673750841102872noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5708328127800339799.post-48707119322976412562011-09-21T21:09:00.000-04:002011-09-21T21:11:29.248-04:00What the Heck am I Doing?<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Well, I can just tell you that the week has barely started
and yet I am almost speechless with joy to have my shows back. Today I watched the previously DVR-ed
“The Biggest Loser” and I was moved to tears. There were these military helicopters, and my favorite
reality show (besides “16 and Pregnant” for the obvious train wreck
possibilities) and old people.
Patriotism, excitement, and old people just create a perfect storm in my
eyeballs I guess. I still don’t
entirely understand why the Marines were involved, probably to make me
cry. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So, the real bit of news is annoyingly salient. Remember that part in the chapter I
gave you when Lydia laments not seeing some of her friends and co-workers for
long periods of time after finishing a job? (You totally read it right? You didn’t?
Well, go <a href="https://docs.google.com/viewer?a=v&pid=explorer&chrome=true&srcid=0B6-07Zc4X6lrOThjMzI1ZDQtNzdlOC00ZGMxLWE4MjMtNDdjNDE3NTdhYWFk&hl=en">read it now</a>. Don’t
worry, I will wait, it is short anyway.)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So, now that we are all back together again and recalling
that little line, well, guess who decided to join the crew of the show that has
become my little world since July?
That’s right, that guy who drove me to make amusing ecards about cats
and LBJ. The great thing about
working freelance in the film and television industry is that when you finish a
job you can often escape those you want to get away from. The bad thing is almost anyone can turn
back up in your life at ANY TIME. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I bring this up because of course I immediately sought out
my besties for emotional support, and the weird thing was, more than one of
them asked me if I thought he joined the crew to work near me. I call this weird because as a Romance
writer that should have been my first thought. Perhaps it is not surprising that my mind did not come up
with that awesome plot device sooner because I am in the middle of it and not
observing from the outside. The mundane nature of life and knowing his
perspective relatively well obscured anything beyond the surface of the
situation for me. But as a writer
IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN MY FIRST THOUGHT!
AAARRGGHH! Am I going to be
terrible at this and fail horribly?
Probably not, I am sure this is the emotional upheaval kicking up dust
in my head. BTW, I am fairly
certain that he did not board the Clipper Majestic (bonus points for those of
you who pick up the reference and figure out what TV show I am working on. I hope I didn’t mention it in an
earlier post…) just to hang out with me.
But if my life were an awesome Romance novel he would totally have
squirreled his way on to be near me because I am awesome and have unforgettable
kind of green, kind of brown, squinty eyes and cute freckles or something. Oh, oh, even better, he didn’t want to work near me and didn’t
think I would be there, but there I am, his old flame, and the flame hasn’t
gone out. I flit back and forth in
front of him, and, oh wait, am I flirting? Maybe I am flirting, and he is stricken. I draw him, almost magnetically,
with my kind of green, kind of brown, squinty eyes and cute freckles or
something. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Hey, thanks for letting me freak out about writing. I am going to go work on chapter six
now!</div>
Isabel Starrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14624673750841102872noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5708328127800339799.post-15164999873834658682011-09-18T18:42:00.000-04:002011-09-18T18:45:47.569-04:00Hooray for Sweater Season!<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am all over the place to day so forgive me if this is not
the most cohesive post. First of
all, I know it has been a while since I posted. I took an Internet break on the 11<sup>th</sup>; I did not
feel like chatting that day, and then the week just ran off on me. Despite it passing so quickly, this
week was pretty great. I
orchestrated my first free day since May, the weather has been lovely since
Thursday, and my excitement for the fall TV season has kept me going on a super
fun high. For clarification,
a free day is not a sick day, a holiday, a weekend, or a lack of work. A free day is when one has the option
to work but chooses to get a manicure and go shopping instead. I love free days. In addition to my free day I went
out with my family on Friday, and had a night on the town last night too. Added to all of this activity, I also
managed to tidy up around the apartment a bit and bake some gluten free
cornbread muffins. I just can’t
stop the energy flowing, and it is all due to my love of television. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Not only to I spend somewhere between 48 and 60 hours a week
as a cog in the machine that turns out a major network show, but I am also an
avid consumer of network programming.
I enjoy cable shows too, and feel particularly indebted to cable as the
driving force behind a greater creativity for the networks. I just love television. On Saturdays I even like to watch
movies on TV and cook or clean during the commercial breaks. My buzz this week lead me to
create a new ecard. Here it is: </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://cdn.someecards.com/someecards/usercards/1316381563904_1519430.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="224" src="http://cdn.someecards.com/someecards/usercards/1316381563904_1519430.png" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I think it is pretty true too. If I had new episodes of my favorite jams (“Criminal Minds,”
“Castle,” or “The Big Bang Theory” especially) I think I would have been
feeling fine in like, two weeks.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Guys, you know what else has me feeling pretty good? I feel so honored that you folks have
been reading my blog! I know that
what I have to say is pretty specific to my life and my writing, but ya’ll keep
coming back to see what I have to say and I thank you for that. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So, what is going on with the writing, you ask? Well, I have been chugging away at
editing what can loosely be called the first act. Overall, I am pleased with what I have down on the
page. I think my characters are
pretty believable, and the dialogue is not terrible. Some of my chapters are pretty great, if I do say so
myself. <a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_372050249"> </a><a href="https://docs.google.com/viewer?a=v&pid=explorer&chrome=true&srcid=0B6-07Zc4X6lrOThjMzI1ZDQtNzdlOC00ZGMxLWE4MjMtNDdjNDE3NTdhYWFk&hl=en">Here is a chapter I like</a>,
just for fun. Luckily for you, it
is the first one.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When I look at the chapters that I struggled with, I am much
less enthusiastic about this whole endeavor. I have chatted with some writers, some friends, and some
writers who are friends, and I have been given a lot of different perspectives
and ideas. I chose to “just get
something down on paper” but now I just want to scrap the bad stuff and start fresh on those chapters. Maybe not go in a different
direction, but certainly not allow some of the frankly terrible and clichéd
drivel that I wrote continue to exist.
Readers, who I am so thrilled and lucky to have, what do you think? Please leave a comment or two with any
advice about the process, or reactions to the chapter I just gave you. Please? I would love a comment! Mom, feel free to refrain from "oh honey it's great."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Some non-sequiturs that I want to share with my tiny public:
I learned how to curl my hair with a straightening iron this weekend-which I find to be a thrilling oxymoron-and I have to go because I think my kitten just ate some
plastic. Also, <a href="http://www.spandexwear.com/product.php?productid=16194&cat=265&page=1">this</a>.</div>
Isabel Starrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14624673750841102872noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5708328127800339799.post-74621247833543314252011-09-10T23:24:00.000-04:002011-09-10T23:42:41.958-04:00Striking a Universal Note<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:officedocumentsettings> <o:allowpng/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:trackmoves>false</w:TrackMoves> <w:trackformatting/> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:drawinggridhorizontalspacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing> <w:drawinggridverticalspacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing> <w:displayhorizontaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery> <w:displayverticaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> <w:dontautofitconstrainedtables/> <w:dontvertalignintxbx/> </w:Compatibility> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="276"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--> <!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} </style> <![endif]--> <!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">I apologize, dear readers (of which there are more than four, I am pleased to note) for not providing you with fodder for procrastination this week, but I was otherwise engaged.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was a busy week here in New York; Fashion Week has started which, thankfully, this year it means very little to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I attended a Fashion’s Night Out event at my friend’s lovely Park Slope shop <a href="http://www.shopeponymy.com/">Eponymy</a> and that is my entire involvement in the events of this week, praise Jesus.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>My friends visited from the Left Coast and last night I found myself at a rooftop bar that wanted so badly to be exclusive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I felt like I was at the bar where the rejects from <a href="http://ny.eater.com/tags/the-boom-boom-room">The Boom Boom Room</a> (I think this link explains all you need to know) go to make some sort of decent night pan out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Well, at least the drinks were strong and I was with good friends.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>However, what really took up most of my time was reading a Romance novel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Well, first I finished the Daphne DuMaurier I was reading called <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">Castle Dor</i> that has a Nineteenth Century town relive the events of the Tristan and Iseult myth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I mention it because I may bring it up later on, I have not decided.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>So, I finished <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">Castle Dor</i> and then decided to read the new Julia Quinn.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>You see, I only read Historical Romance, which, to the uninitiated, is a subgenre of the whole.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Why, then, am I writing in a contemporary setting?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Because I decided to start out with writing what I know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I have to establish myself first before I write my WWI novel because I am pretty sure there isn’t much of a market for that yet.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>Anyhoo, I don’t think I have read a Romance since the last Julia Quinn came out this winter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Between work, writing, and reading <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">Brideshead Revisited</i> I just haven’t picked one up in a while.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>If you are familiar with Quinn you will recall the notoriously dreadful Smythe-Smith musicales and with <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">Just Like Heaven</i> she finally introduces her readership to the Smythe-Smiths and their lack of musical talent and love of exhibitionism.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The book’s plot is focused on two main events, but despite one of them being the musicale, music seems strangely absent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Even when the characters are supposed to be practicing they argue, and the event itself is described after the fact.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>In <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">Castle Dor</i>, the Tristan character breaks his violin when he decides to begin his affaire with the Iseult character and music becomes absent there too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>Now though, music is far more ubiquitous than in the Nineteenth Century.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>If we walk in to a shop music will be playing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The subway platforms and cars are often makeshift stages, and almost everyone has a mp3 player, and not everyone has the courtesy to use theirs’ with headphones.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>This has all been rather difficult for me this summer as I have some compulsive issues concerning music.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I believe that certain types of music/songs will affect the immediate future or have particular significance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Yes, it is crazy and no, I can’t logic my way out of this one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Recently, someone was agonizing to me about being in the card store and all the songs on the radio station playing in the shop seemed to relate specifically to his life at that time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I pointed out quite logically that pop songs are generic for that very reason.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The writers and performers want you to believe that that song was written for you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>“Killing Me Softly” and “You’re So Vain” spell it out almost.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>See, I can logic it, but if I don’t hear classical music once a day (and write to it) or listen to particular bands SOMETHING WILL GO VERY, VERY WRONG.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">What all this really causes me to realize (above and beyond some possible obsessive/compulsive tendencies) is how universal the big things, like love and loss, truly are. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes">W</span>hat makes Romance so appealing is the triumph of those things that people almost universally desire, such as trust, love, and being the first priority for the same person who comes first for one’s self.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Pop songs function on the same level.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>They tap in to those feelings that are so forceful yet so common, that the expression of them creates an automatic bond between the music and the listener.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span> I have "known" this for forever, but I am a little emotionally closed off, so it took some upheaval in my life to embrace this part of the human existence instead of rolling my eyes and seeing pop music as trite.<span> </span>Tonight I wallowed in this bond with a little Heart, Adele, Iron and Wine, Mumford and Sons, and Prince.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Oh, feelings. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <!--EndFragment-->Isabel Starrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14624673750841102872noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5708328127800339799.post-75080480079429566962011-09-04T21:07:00.000-04:002011-09-04T22:19:07.845-04:00Form, Format, and My Love of Pithy Statements Combined with Somewhat Relevant Illustrations<div>I am a formalist. What I mean is that I love form, I think that form is as informative as word choice, plot, metaphor, and every other signifier used to create meaning, to use semiotics for a moment. I have never seen the movie "Beloved" because I believe that the book <i>Beloved</i> is so reliant upon it's form to convey meaning that the movie cannot be the same thing. Yes, Dear Reader, I know they are actually not the same thing. But I feel that <i>Beloved </i>is so deeply reliant upon form that it doesn't really translate visually.<div>
<br /></div><div>I think I love genre so much because I love form. There are rules to form and genre, the rules can be bent, but not broken, and true creativity lies in the writer's ability to function within the rules. The natural extension of this logic is that I also love Twitter. I think I would love it if more people were creative, and when they are I have a great time browsing randomly. I, however, do not need to be greeted "good morning Tweeps" by my high school friends, @kristyamaguchi (much as I adore), or @stephenfry. Don't judge who I follow.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>Having said all that, here is a <a href="http://www.someecards.com/">new form</a> I have embraced to help with the burning desire I have had to call that guy who dumped me and cry about how sad I am from reading too many articles about 9/11.</div></div><div><a href="http://cdn.someecards.com/someecards/usercards/1315099204180_1708850.png" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="http://cdn.someecards.com/someecards/usercards/1315099204180_1708850.png" border="0" alt="" style="cursor: pointer; width: 420px; height: 294px; " /></a></div><div>
<br /></div><div><a href="http://cdn.someecards.com/someecards/usercards/1315189101264_4939399.png" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="http://cdn.someecards.com/someecards/usercards/1315189101264_4939399.png" border="0" alt="" style="cursor: pointer; width: 420px; height: 294px; " /></a></div><div>
<br /></div><a href="http://cdn.someecards.com/someecards/usercards/1315171460840_9296889.png" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 420px; height: 294px;" src="http://cdn.someecards.com/someecards/usercards/1315171460840_9296889.png" border="0" alt="" /></a><div><a href="http://cdn.someecards.com/someecards/usercards/1315171460840_9296889.png" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"></a>
<br /><div><a href="http://cdn.someecards.com/someecards/usercards/1315188975945_5226032.png" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="http://cdn.someecards.com/someecards/usercards/1315188975945_5226032.png" border="0" alt="" style="cursor: pointer; width: 420px; height: 294px; " /></a></div><div>
<br /></div><div><a href="http://cdn.someecards.com/someecards/usercards/MjAxMS0zMzMyOGJmNWExOGJlZjQz.png" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Helvetica;font-size:12px;">Go <a href="http://whitehousetapes.net/clips/1964_0809_lbj_haggar/">here</a> to understand what this card means.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Helvetica;font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:12px;">
<br /></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Helvetica;font-size:12px;">Who knew misery and creativity got along so well?</span><div><p></p><p></p><p></p></div></div></div>Isabel Starrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14624673750841102872noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5708328127800339799.post-53859335562612873892011-09-01T21:50:00.000-04:002011-09-01T21:52:18.194-04:00Penguins in Pants<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">Titling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I am so terrible with titles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>When I was in college I turned in my first few essays without titles for two reasons.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The first being I have a lot of anxiety over title writing and the second being I don’t really believe school essays need titles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Unless it is a dissertation or something you are submitting for publishing I feel that the three, five, whatever page essay’s job is to make the argument, so why do we need titles telling us the point of the essay? </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I have a lot of anxiety over title writing because most essay titles sound grandiose and therefore stupid because it is a three page college essay dudes, you can get away with a single word title, probably.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I really hate the compound essay title.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>You know what I mean.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>“Over Thinking It: The Metaphysical Act of Writing About Writing” or whatever minor detail your hungover and barely functional mind had decided to place an overabundance of importance upon that week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I rebelled strongly against those and only began using them my Junior year due to complaints from professors.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Seriously.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Not that I don’t love my professors but I smell creativity being stifled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Now, titling my Romance novel is causing even greater anxiety because Romance titles almost demand to sound idiotic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>As a being who abhors and avoids cliché I am having great difficulty feeling comfortable with my current title.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The book is about an A-list actor who falls in love with his personal assistant while working on a small independent feature film.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The novel is the first in what I hope to be a series of four other novels concerning characters who work in the New York film industry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I want the titles to sound like Romance titles and involve well-known filmmaking terms.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I don’t want the titles to sound really stupid.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The first one is currently being called:</p><p class="MsoNormal"> <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">Love and…Action!</i> </p><p class="MsoNormal">What do you think?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Please comment, please be honest, I don’t have much of an ego when it comes to my writing, and especially not my titling!</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I worked 49 hours this week and it is only Thursday.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>This means that I am not going to write a five-page essay like I usually do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <!--EndFragment--> Isabel Starrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14624673750841102872noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5708328127800339799.post-45768188029686965882011-08-28T21:18:00.000-04:002011-08-28T21:25:27.913-04:00A Problem of "Titanic" Emotions<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">This is going to be a fairly serious exploration of my major difficulty in writing, folks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It is going to get heavy, which is kinda’ ridiculous for a blog about writing a Romance novel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Well, I suppose in technical terms it seems silly, Romance is supposed to be fluff or beach material, but I wouldn’t insult my readership by assuming that quality is unnecessary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Genre is generally not serious literature, but I still hold it to a high standard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>This is why I hate reading Anne Rice and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">A Game of Thrones</i>, holy idiom Batman!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Seriously dudes, pull out a thesaurus. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>My minor difficulties are upsetting enough.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I have an almost complete lack of momentum or discipline.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It has been months since I have written anything new and I can only blame one month on being mopey over a boy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Some time was spent on waiting on getting some outside input before I continued in order to curtail any bad habits early; but, in reality, the majority of my inertia is pure procrastination.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Once I get going I can put words to page at a steady, if slow, pace.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Sadly, getting started after a break appears to take three months.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Then, once I have started I am lucky to produce 1000 words at a sitting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>A grand takes me about two hours and most of that time is spent refilling my latte, playing with my Pandora playlist, and checking Facebook for responses to my snide spelling corrections on other peoples’ pages.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Oh yeah, I am <a href="http://www.happyplace.com/3645/the-best-obnoxious-responses-to-misspellings-on-facebook">That Girl</a>.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>So, not only am I terrible at the work of writing, I am also completely unromantic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I know, what the hell am I doing writing Romance?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>When talking about February 14<sup>th</sup> this year I referred to it as “Monday.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I watched <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">Titanic</i> on Saturday because it was a Hurricane Holiday, which is just like any other holiday in the sense that all calories are free and you can indulge in those terrible movies that you would never consider on a regular day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Now, you all know my love of Kate, and if I didn’t dislike Leonardo DiCraprio so much the only thing to hate about <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">Titanic</i> would be Cameron’s handling of the loss of 1500 lives; specifically, his focus and championing of love over the loss of 1500 lives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I mean, all those people died and he spends 95% of the movie focused on two people!</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>This is how I know I am almost completely unromantic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I find “love at first sight” or even believing one’s self to be “in love” after four days (the length of time between the RMS Titanic’s launch and sinking) completely insipid.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Additionally, that kiss on the bow looks horribly uncomfortable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Her neck is almost <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">Exorcist</i>-style.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Also, that portrait scene is ridiculous.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>As my roommate pointed out, anyone could have come in to the room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Even if it wasn’t Billy Zane, it could have been service staff, and service staff are the last group of people you want knowing or seeing your business.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>Now, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">Titanic</i> is one of three movies that makes me cry.*<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>(I know, I don’t cry at movies either, I am so not romantic.)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>However, I don’t give two poops for when Jack sinks like the frozen meat bag that he is, I cry when the old people are spooning on the bed and the mom is telling a story to her children while they are TRAPPED IN A SINKING SHIP.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Wikipedia told me that one child from first class and no children from second class died in the accident where 52 third class children died which was 66% of third class children on the boat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>So THAT ACTUALLY HAPPENED.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Sort of.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I find that to be an incredibly believable imagining of one family’s experience.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>So, clearly I am a Humanist.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I cry at the humanity of things, but not for the romance. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>So how the hell am I going to achieve a Romance novel?</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>Luckily for me, while genre needs to be technically well written, formula, which is usually considered poor writing, is entirely acceptable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Form will give me a structure to work around, so on a basic level I will be able to ask myself “how do I get my characters to believably end up at this juncture?” and writing the answer will also be writing the novel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>However, I am afraid that following this step alone would leave me with a rather emotionally bare, but well constructed plot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I can only hope that my humanist tendencies will lend the emotion and create something less sticky sweet than <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">Titanic</i> but also something beyond my intellectualism that is as icy as the North Atlantic waters which froze the life out of those unluckily without a lifeboat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Sometimes I think a whirlwind romance would knock my dry intellectualism about love out of my head (I totes believe in love, but not “I don’t know you but I love you” love).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But, then, I have made it to somewhere near 30 without my beliefs in love being shaken, so I don’t think it’s going to happen.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">*For the record, the other two movies that make me cry are <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">All Quiet on the Western Front</i> because he is thisclose to surviving the war and then he gets shot and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">Cool Runnings</i> because when they carry that sled to the finish they just have <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">so much heart</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Also, both of these movies depict more or less actual events.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>See, there is that humanity again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <!--EndFragment--> Isabel Starrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14624673750841102872noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5708328127800339799.post-67189055855790050892011-08-25T20:28:00.000-04:002011-08-25T21:22:04.412-04:00CatsAs a single lady with aspirations of Romance Novelling, I think it is only right to have a chat about cats. I don't mean the musical but if you want to read an interesting blog written by my lovely college mate Anika Chapin about "Cats" go <a href="http://bloggledygook.wordpress.com/tag/cats/">here</a>. I am going to chat about <i>chats</i>...haha, see how I did that? <i>Chat</i> is Frenchy stuff for "cat." It is pronounced like the past tense of the four letter poop word. This is relevant because a) bad puns are always relevant and b) my brother sang this stupid song about "Le chat angora" when he was learning French as a wee babe. Well, ok, he was 7. Oh, and c) my novel has a bunch of poop jokes that I can't seem to work out. I mean, who writes a Romance with poop jokes? Honestly Isabel...<div>
<br /></div><div>Anyhoo, remember that really depressing part of "High Fidelity" when John Cusack is talking about how he totally could have banged Lili Taylor but then he would "be part of that whole single person culture?"* Well, in the book he goes on to talk about having to stop <i>in medias res</i> to kick the cats off the bed. I can't get this image out of my head, and how depressing it must be to have that perspective all the time. I can't imagine how horrible it must be to go about life with the mentality that instead of being honest with himself about just not being interested in the Sarah character anymore, he has to blame it on the kitties! Lame. That is, of course the <i>raison d'etre</i> (more French, lame) of the Rob character, he doesn't understand himself, and is completely dishonest with the audience, Laura, Marie de Sale, himself, and those poor displaced kitties. </div><div>
<br /></div><div>I am probably only haunted by this because instead of turning to the movie "High Fidelity" for comfort after I was brutally dumped (is brutal a harsh word? hmmm...) I decided to read the book because it would take longer.** Really, the only two things I came away from that experience with were that the movie Rob is way more likable than the book Rob and that whole cat moment. So, when I finished the book I immediately watched the movie to at least feel better about older, wiser, jaded Lloyd Dobbler (Rob/John) if not my breakup. </div><div>
<br /></div><div>So, how does this have anything to do with the writing process? Well, this is my first writing attempt I will make that does not have a significant cat presence. (Yes, I am a Crazy Cat Lady. My phone gallery is filled with pictures of cats and most of them are not even mine.) In addition to my own emotional reaction to what was probably a throw away to Nick Hornby, I have only ever had very strong reactions for or against my inclusion of kitties in other things I have written, such as all of my screenplays I wrote in college. I have finally learned that cats are either creepily appealing or completely off-putting to a readership, and the way the cats are presented or incorporated can create too many unpredictable reactions. Also, I have to deal with the whole poop joke thing. </div><div>
<br /></div><div>I realize only a Crazy Cat Lady would think this warranted an entire blog post. At least I am not <a href="http://www.happyplace.com/4166/woman-expresses-her-terrifying-love-of-cats-in-online-dating-bio">this girl</a>. My heart totally bleeds for her brand of nutballs.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>*<i>High Fidelity</i> dir. Stephen Frears. Starring John Cusack and Jack Black. 2000.</div><div>**Watching <i>High Fidelity</i> and <i>Love and Basketball</i> are my friend Kate's remedies for heartbreak. <i>High Fidelity</i> kinda works alone, but I should probably watch <i>L&B</i> too. </div>Isabel Starrhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14624673750841102872noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5708328127800339799.post-61008055324240996402011-08-19T21:58:00.000-04:002011-08-19T23:28:36.682-04:00The English Great HouseI don't really want to talk about mansions, I want to talk about the relationship between books and movies. I work in film and television. I decided to make that my career through an overindulgence in British adaptations of books into televised movies on PBS and A&E. I know, GIANT NERD. Now that I actually work in the business I realize I have missed my original goal (excepting an approximately one week stint on HBO's "Mildred Pierce" which was awesome because KATE WINSLET IS AWESOME) of adapting all my favorite books into sweeping, sumptuous, costumed romps about the English countryside. Do you want to know how bad the "castles in the air" were?* (That is a <i>Little Women</i> reference, I will get back to this, be prepared for tales of...fan fiction...) I had ideas of sitting on camera dollies wearing Regency era dresses. I know, the image is pretty sad, lame, and not a little gross. (For the sake of the mental image, in terms of the dolly, at the time I didn't have any discernment; but if you asked me now, I would go with a Chapman Hustler, what can I say? I like the "roundie" mode.)<div>
<br /></div><div>Well, the book/movie/book that brought me to this Friday night of watching "Brideshead Revisited" alone on the couch (getting to that too) is <i>Little Women</i>, which I alluded to earlier. After watching the movie 37 times (not an exaggeration) and reading the book eight times (an approximation) I began writing myself in to the story. You heard me correctly. Before knowing that a whole genre of bad, vanity writing existed that is somewhat euphemistically called "fan fiction," I began my own project of making my life much more interesting and the March sister's much less realistic or readable. Not that <i>Little Women</i> is always readable. There are a lot of morals dripping in saccharine rolling around in there. (Yes, this ties in to "Brideshead," I promise.) Now, my goals were noble. I wanted to save Beth's life. I filled two notebooks with handwritten page after page. I remember finishing the IOWA test early and grabbing the book off the shelf in the school library so I could do some "research" in order to finish a chapter. I am very pleased these notebooks are either destroyed or lost in a storage unit somewhere in Denver. Mom, this is the real reason I refuse to go through that thing. Kidding.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>Now, the <i>Little Women</i> project was a year before I discovered Romance, so I was clearly already primed for what I am working on now. What am I working on now, you ask? Well, in tidy fashion, I am writing a novel about an A-list actor who falls in love with his personal assistant. So, I am writing a book about making movies. However, this project has been more difficult than expected. I know very little about actors or their assistants so much of my work has been cornering my production assistant and personal assistant friends and making them tell me about how they get paid, stories of demeaning jobs they have had to perform, and other, myriad personal information that is really none of my business. That, of course is the easy part. As I was editing chapter five yesterday, I realized that the hard part was reconciling the reality of how a movie gets made with developing a plausible book plot. Chapter five must be rewritten. I need my male protagonist to put his college buddy/producer on the alert about his new personal assistant, but I need it to sound believable. Here is where I take some lessons from <i>Brideshead Revisited</i>.</div><div>
<br /></div><div><i>Brideshead</i> is the anti-Romance novel (not to be confused with Priscilla Gilman's <i>The Anti-Romantic Child</i> which should be read by everyone). Yes, it has all the earmarks of a Romance novel with its sweeping landscapes, a beautiful fountain that stands for the yearnings in our innermost hearts, war, and stuffed animals. Here, however, the morality of <i>Little Women</i> turns the characters in on themselves, and creates the travesties of the failed romantic relationships. Unlike Romance, in which Charles would have helped Sebastian overcome his alcoholism and reconciled his Catholicism with a kind God who only loves and does not punish while jaunting off to St. Tropez to sell hand carved statuary to fabulously wealthy tourists (or similar with Julia), everyone ends up alone or dead, much like the empty shell of Brideshead which has been destroyed by the WWII battalion encamped there. While one watches/reads this all happen, one hears Joan Fontaine wistfully reminding us that "we can never go back to Manderley again."** Manderley is another giant English house that gets gutted by a fire by some crazy broad who loved a nasty broad. The mid-20th Century British loved their large houses and (not really) closeted homosexuality. </div><div>
<br /></div><div>Both of these books (<i>Brideshead Revisited</i> and <i>Rebecca</i>) have been adapted by the BBC and made readily available to you and me via DVD. Now, <i>Rebecca</i> stays fairly true, and Diana Rigg as the crazy broad (Danvers, if we are being all proper-like) is pretty awesome, like Kate. The original BBC "Brideshead" is probably also very true since it is something like six hours long, but I haven't seen it yet. Tonight I watched the recent, 2008 version, and it's discomfort with the homosexual narrative and pandering to the lonely, single lady are pertinent to the writing of my novel.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>Now, my audience is going to be a lot of lonely single ladies. Currently, I am one of those. I embrace me, and I embrace them, but I will not pander to them. The modern "Brideshead" really attempts to work with the "mommy issues" and crises of the faithful, but its glossing over anything "unpleasant," i.e. homosexuality, emotionless unions, miscarriage (they talk about it, but Julia has a second in the book, and also maybe an abortion?) in order to highlight Charles' "loss of love" makes me feel that the production decided to make a 1940's "woman's film" instead of <i>Brideshead Rivisited</i>. It's cool, I know that the movie is not the book. But when the book is structured around a movie, am I going to have to make the same compromises? </div><div>
<br /></div><div>A Regency dress on a Hustler is anachronistic, and the ins, outs, and sixteen hour days of filmmaking are tedious. I want to give my readers some insight in to the unglamorous side of filmmaking so when my personal assistant gets swept up in to the world of Oscar parties and drinking white wine with Kate (it is either that or dirty martinis, I wish I knew what she actually drank, because I would drink it, just like her) I want both Christina (my protagonist) and the reader to know the difference. </div><div>
<br /></div><div>*My copy of <i>Little Women</i> is in the storage unit in Denver so I can't cite it properly. Louisa May Alcott said "castles in the air" a couple of times in almost every book she ever wrote. Lucy Maud Montgomery (of <i>Anne of Green Gables</i>) probably said it a couple of times too. </div><div>
<br /></div><div>** Hitchcock, Alfred. "Rebecca" Joan Fontaine, Lawrence Olivier. Selznick, 1942. </div><div>I don't remember if that is the correct way to cite, but it gives you the pertinent facts. </div><div>
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