august 12 There's a wild man, wizard, he's hiding in me, illuminating my mind Some nice bits of synchronicity have been happening; when they do, it's best to stand back and watch them like bits of flotsam on a creek. There they go, aren't they pretty, maybe we'll see them again.
I've been working hard to get my long-tangled-with book A Different Light in a shape where publishers will look at it, and where it doesn't resemble (much) the origins from whence it came; I don't want to be thought of as stealing someone else's characters. The good news is that Law & Order, as a TV show, is pretty generic in terms of place, setting and people, so it's not like, say, trying to make the square peg of Buffy The Vampire Slayer fic fit into the round hole of originality. Besides, the story is good, which is why I spent six novels spreading it out, and now have to compact that into one good, useful thing. I know the story is good. I just hope I'm good enough to get it out there. I've had some encouragement lately by the publishing of "Propadeutic" and now, "The view of my brother's profile in the rear-view mirror," a title so clunky sometimes I forget the whole thing, and which is probably the most personal piece of writing I've done. I was also encouraged when, after a particularly good interview with an author, he said I could send him my stuff to look at or to have someone look at it. I'm on that like bees on jam, but you never know if people are just saying things, or if they mean them. I'm hoping this author was sincere; he seemed so.
Anyway, so on to the nice synchronicity -- I got a free CD in the mail from Angel records, a selection of film music scored by Anne Dudley. What caught me was the title: a different light. (My title is also from a song, but a Bangles tune called "A Different Light," which sounds nothing like Anne's.) In checking out the titles, I also noted she wrote the main theme for The Crying Game, whose score I have always admired. But there are a few other titles that so jived with my book it was like being bathed in cream: "An Inspector Calls," "The Club With No Name." The book I'm writing is, of course, about cops and lawyers, and there is a place in it called The Club. I know there's no cosmic meaning to it all, but I'm keeping the CD, and have it playing right now.
Next, we have something not so synchronioius, yet something that nearly brought tears to my eyes. One of the reasons I've picked up the whole blog life (and hope to ultimately move the blog to my own pages, rather than relying on blogger.com) is thanks to the breezy, extensive, lovely observations of Shelley. After being named a Cruel Site Of The Day when she followed a strange man in chaps at the local gay parade (it wasn't cruel; it was pretty frickin' hilarious, and thank God for digital cameras), I started checking in with her every so often. She's more regular a poster than I am, and I like the way she approaches life in general. We've written once or twice, which makes me feel less like a digital stalker. Anyway, the most recent turn her life took is that her mom's live-in boyfriend of decades recently died. She wrote heart-wrenching posts leading up to the event, and afterwards explained what she'd just learned -- why the two never got married, despite all that time together. Her boyfriend of several years seemed taken aback that they could have made it official for so long, yet never found the time, and he also had a major lightbulb moment: How could he live without Shelley? So they got engaged. I've blundered in the re-telling, but she does a nice job, so go over there and see the ring and everything. It was one of those moments only the net could have provided, and I'm glad I was "there" to follow the events leading up to it. All the best wishes for the two of them.
Well, and now so inspired, I think I may just try and move the blog to the "real world." Let's see how this goes....
