Birfday

It was my birthday yesterday. Yessirree, I am one year older. Darn, time flies, no?

I will have a little get-together tomorrow night, mostly just my theater company people and some friends of Vern's and mine. I have rehearsals all weekend--my show opens a week from today. Am I ready? Probably. Do I feel ready? Never.

Love,
Clare

Lately

Well, I have a new job....It's actually a substitute teaching job, and I've been substituting for the last school year, ever since I got back from my wedding. But this one is interesting because it is a long-term job. The woman I am subbing for is out on maternity leave, so this is a three-month job! It is really great so far. I am teaching 11th grade Honors English, plus Newspaper and Yearbook. I really like it so far, particularly the Honors English, which is right up my alley--I was an English Literature major. I am now in my fifth week!

Also, this last weekend was quite an important one for me. It is interesting when creativity strikes you. Vern was out mowing the lawn, and I was out watching him, when suddenly a screenplay--that I have had in my mind for about 4 years now--came to a sort of fruition. I was finally able to write an outline of scenes--32 in all--which will eventually comprise my script! It was a huge moment for me, because as I said I have been mulling it over and over in my mind for 4 years. It is huge that I was able to put it down in the order that I want, to make it a movie worth watching. I read it to Vern when he was done with the lawn, and he said "that's a movie." And it is.

Now, of course, I have to commence with the actual writing of each scene. Which is daunting, to be sure, but not nearly as daunting as it was before I had this outline. Now I can skip around--if scene 8 isn't coming easily to me, then I can skip to scene 13, etc. It's really a huge step for me.

My plan for this screenplay is to finish writing what I'm hoping will be a FANTASTIC piece, and then "shopping it around" to studios. I don't exactly know how to go about it yet, but I feel that if I have a really good script, I will be able to secure an agent (for screenwriters) and then to get it seen by the people that would produce it. Writing is something that, if you do it well, agents are interested in you no matter what--at least as far as I know, that is the case. It's different with acting, where you could be phenomenal, but if you weren't in something recognizable then they don't want you. Writing is a totally different ballgame. When I am done with the script, I will consult my friend, Sy Rosen, who was a TV writer for 30 years or so and see what advice he can give me. Hopefully he can help me out and teach me about the avenues I need to go down.

A caviat to this screenplay--which I wholeheartedly intend to see through--is that I am only offering the script if I am attached as the lead. I wrote it because I identify with the main character, and I intend to play her. The best part about it is that it is a true story, but one that a lot of people don't know about, so I think it will be a great film. It will likely be very independent, but I'm aiming high in my mind right now and throwing around the names Miramax and Lion's Gate and New Line. Those are the production companies that I hope will fund it. And it will need a LOT of funding--it's a period piece, set in the 1940's and 1950's.

Anyway, that's my big news. It engulfs my mind--the other day I was driving to a play rehearsal, and I got there in what seemed like no time (really about an hour), because I was thinking of my script and the characters the whole time.

Well, I think Vern is done with recording now, so I am probably going to go.

Talk to you soon,
Clare

Books I Read in 2008

So, it is my new goal, after having done this the past two years, to read an average of 12 books a year--or essentially a book a month. Last year's reads are in one of my earlier blogs, and this year's are as follows:

1) The Time-Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger
2) Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert
3) The Other Boleyn Girl by Philippa Gregory
4) A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith
5) The Dot and the Line: A Romance in Lower Mathematics by Norton Juster
6) Nights in Rodanthe by Nicholas Sparks
7) Rebellion by Nora Roberts
8) Shadow of the Wind by Carlos Ruiz Zafon
9) Angels and Demons by Dan Brown
10) The Da Vinci Code by Dan Brown
11) Holes by Louis Sachar
12) Capturing Paris by Katharine Davis
13) Equus by Peter Shaffer
14) The Best American Poetry 2007
15) The Journals of Sylvia Plath by Sylvia Plath

These books range from the positively prolific to the simplistic, but they were wonderful to fill my head with. The Journals of Sylvia Plath were amazing, as she is one of my favorite poets and people. And in fact, two of my now all-time favorite books are two that I read this year: The Time-Traveler's Wife and A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. It just goes to show that you can never stop finding beauty as long as you keep looking for it.

Happy New Year,
Clare

Ode to My Husband's Ex-Wife

"There's a stake in your fat black heart
And the villagers never liked you." --Sylvia Plath

What happened to you
between birth and thirty-two
that made you chew
him up like beef stew
then sit back, shine your tooth?

Your chubby bottom trimmed by a yoga guru;
your crocodile tears, your reptile tears, poor you.
Boo-hoo, boo-hoo, you needed a new hair-do,
a fresh bank account, a beachside house in Malibu.
True, true.

But if you sat on your yoga mat and thought it through--
of all he had done, would do--for you--
of the life you'd have lived--trips to Xanadu--
the love full of heat and baby-coos--
then how could you? And for who?

A man with a heart like an igloo
and the rest of him a slack, limp pool cue.
A man who reeks of honey and cat poo
who, in ten years, will only be denture glue.
He's the one for you.

I can't say I'd disagree with you--
who else could equal a shrew like you?--
Your crude fingers dripping with witch's brew,
your body bright as vomit spew:
they should lock you up and stick you in a zoo.

You run like a bad tattoo
but you keep showing up like a nasty bruise:
everything you touch turns black and blue--
complimentary colors, your favorite hue--
even your ocean-view can't stand you.

You make me sick--you know it's true--
with your slim new ass and your Jimmy Choos,
your honey-poo man, your yeasty juju.
The whole world rues you--true, true.
But not as much as I do.

Boo.

Funnyface: Part Two

Funnyface doesn't have leukemia or HIV! Yea!

The vet called a few hours after that last journal entry, and when I heard it was the actual doctor on the line, I thought surely she was calling to give me bad news. But no!

This means that Vern and I can now commence giving Funnyface treatment for her fungal infection, which will improve her quality of life and maybe make it so she doesn't have to struggle to breathe. She may be able to take a deep breath in a month!

I love it when God smiles down on us, even if it is just in helping a small kitty. It gives me hope that all of us might meet with that kind of compassion someday, when we most need it and least expect it.

I am thankful.

Funnyface: Part One

From my journal entry this morning:

Today, perhaps, is a day of doom. Having not the capacity for detachment that most people manage to possess, I have taken it into my head to save a sickly stray cat. This kitty, whom Vern and I call Funnyface, is a lovely, furry, skinny gray tabby. And her poor little nose and throat are so congested that she labors to breathe.

We took her to the vet yesterday--I knew she would need flea mendicine and the insides of her ears were very dirty, so I knew they needed to be cleaned and disinfected. And I hoped that they might just say she had a terrible cold. Unfortunately, they took a slide of her mucus and found that she had "cryptoccocosis" (I don't have the inclination currently to look up whether or not I have spelled that word correctly)--a fungus that attacks cats' nasal passages, lungs and can even move into their central nervous system. The vet related it to cancer in humans, in the sense that it may or may not get better with treatment. She told us of some medicine that we can use to possibly and hopefully get rid of it, but there is, of course, no guarantee. That is sad, but the possibility of hope--that it could make her better--is enough to convince me to try it.

However, the dark fear that is sitting in my mind is this: cats who get this fungal infection are generally in possession of a compromised immune system. They took blood to see whether she has feline leukemia or feline HIV. They are supposed to call us with the results today. If she has either of these, there is not much hope that the crypto fungus will get better. Also, feline leukemia is passed through casual contact, so we can't let her around Billy--and we can't even really let her outside--she could infect other cats with it.

Perhaps I shouldn't worry about any of this because we don't know the results of that test yet. But I have an awful feeling. And that means what? That we might have to put this sweet, unassuming, love-starved cat to sleep? She trusted us! I was trying to help her, to make her better! Not to get her killed. I just pray that my feeling is wrong--that she doesn't have those illnesses and has a chance at a better life, with her respiratory problems medicated and hopefully cured. I want this cat to be okay. To live. Please God. Let her live.

NO on 8!...and some inspiration

My new Ma and Pa-in-law were on NPR today speaking out as Mormons to vote NO on Proposition 8. They make me feel like there are still some good people left in the world. I'm sure the podcast will become available later today if you'd like to hear it. It was on http://www.scpr.org/ under the segment "Day to Day."

In honor of these wonderful people and their wonderful cause, I'd like to share these quotes with you:

"It is not the critic who counts, not the man who points out how the strong man stumbled, or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes short again and again, who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, and spends himself in a worthy cause, who at best knows achievement and who at the worst if he fails at least fails while daring greatly so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat." --Theodore Roosevelt (Paris speech at the Sorbonne, 1910)

Or this one:

"Thomas Merton wrote, "There is always a temptation to diddle around in the contemplative life, making itsy-bitsy statues." There is always an enormous temptation in all of life to diddle around making itsy-bitsy friends and meals and journeys for itsy-bitsy years on end. It is so self-conscious, so apparently moral, simply to step aside from the gaps where the creeks and winds pour down, saying, I never merited this grace, quite rightly, and then to sulk along the rest of your days on the edge of rage. I won't have it. The world is wilder than that in all directions, more dangerous and bitter, more extravagant and bright. We are making hay when we should be making whoopee; we are raising tomatoes when we should be raising Cain, or Lazarus." --Annie Dillard, from "Pilgrim at Tinker Creek"

Or this one:

"There is a time in every man's education when he arrives at the conviction that envy is ignorance; that imitation is suicide; that he must take himself for better for worse as his portion....
It is harder because you will always find those who think they know what is your duty better than you know it. It is easy in the world to live after the world's opinion; it is easy in solitude to live after our own; but the great man is he who in the midst of the crowd keeps with perfect sweetness the independence of solitude." --Ralph Waldo Emerson, "Self-Reliance"

Or how about these?:

"Ever since there have been men, man has given himself over to too little joy. That alone, my brothers, is our original sin. I should believe only in a God who understood how to dance." --Henri Matisse

"Come now!...Were everything clear, all would seem to you vain. Your boredom would populate a shadowless universe with an impassive life made up of unleavened souls. But a measure of disquiet is a divine gift. The hope which, in your eyes, shines on a dark threshold does not have its basis in an overly certain world. --Marcel Proust, "By Way of Sainte-Beuve"

And lastly:

"The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good people to do nothing."
--Edmund Burke