Had a great day yesterday.  I went over to  ‘s, where we watched Ladyhawke and Legend, and seeing these movies again after so long raised several profound questions for me:

1.  Why isn’t the world covered in glitter?
2.  Why don’t I have a closet full of awesome, Darkness-seducing dresses?
3.  Alternatively, why don’t I have a closet full of awesome, Navarre-inspired black leather armor?
4.  Where do villains go for their voice-training, and  is it a bad idea to hang out on the curb outside and trawl for dates?
5.  Seriously, why isn’t the world covered in glitter?

I’d say it was these questions that kept me up at night, but they didn’t.  I slept like a babe and had queer dreams about the illicit relationship between Alice and the Queen of Hearts (the trial was apparently a diversion so the court would suspect nothing.  You don’t want to know what they were doing in that rose garden.  Lemme just say, there was not much croquet going on, and a whole lotta ‘painting the roses red’).

I blame the movie line-up for that little jaunt through my complex of desires.  Though… I think it’s a clear sign that the next story I need to work on is ‘And All the Rest of their Lives’ – which is a story about the childhood texts that inform our adult fetishes.

But first, to clean up the short story formerly known as ‘Monkeyskin’.  I went to my first official crit meeting yesterday (also with the Swan), and Igot some excellent comments and critiques.  Every point that people hit on was a point that I was already iffy about (and several of the flaws were due in large part to me backbending around trying to make the title work, even though the story had quickly meandered away from the title, hence the ‘formerly known as’).

I’m especially proud of how I’ve ‘leveled up’ when it comes to taking critique.  I finished Monkeyskin recently, and it’s still got the sheen of a newborn, but hearing about my new baby’s flaws actually excited me to make it better, rather than crushing me.  That’s such a huge step for me, to not be so completely ego-invested in my artistic products.  To hear critique as possibility rather than failure.

Of course, it helped that almost everybody in the group liked the story overall.

But, yes.  Work on Monkeyskin, then move on to Lives, edit Dragons in the evenings.  That is the plan for the week.

I’ll have to find some other time to cover the world in glitter.  This is probably why it never gets done.

5 thoughts on “Profundity”

  1. I always particularly loved the snake. Have you ever seen the opera? It is also splendid.

    When the little prince arrived on the Earth, he was very much surprised not to see any people. He was beginning to be afraid he had come to the wrong planet, when a coil of gold, the color of the moonlight, flashed across the sand.

    “Good evening,” said the little prince courteously.

    “Good evening,” said the snake.

    “What planet is this on which I have come down?” asked the little prince.

    “This is the Earth; this is Africa,” the snake answered.

    “Ah! Then there are no people on the Earth?”

    “This is the desert. There are no people in the desert. The Earth is large,” said the snake.

    The little prince sat down on a stone, and raised his eyes toward the sky.

    “I wonder,” he said, “whether the stars are set alight in heaven so that one day each one of us may find his own again… Look at my planet. It is right there above us. But how far away it is!”

    “It is beautiful,” the snake said. “What has brought you here?”

    “I have been having some trouble with a flower,” said the little prince. “Ah!” said the snake. And they were both silent.

    “Where are the men?” the little prince at last took up the conversation again. “It is a little lonely in the desert…”

    “It is also lonely among men,” the snake said. The little prince gazed at him for a long time.

    “You are a funny animal,” he said at last. “You are no thicker than a finger…”

    “But I am more powerful than the finger of a king,” said the snake.

    The little prince smiled. “You are not very powerful. You haven’t even any feet. You cannot even travel…”

    “I can carry you farther than any ship could take you,” said the snake. He twined himself around the little prince’s ankle, like a golden bracelet.

    “Whomever I touch, I send back to the earth from whence he came,” the snake spoke again. “But you are innocent and true, and you come from a star…”

    The little prince made no reply. “You move me to pity, you are so weak on this Earth made of granite,” the snake said. “I can help you, some day, if you grow too homesick for your own planet. I can…”

    “Oh! I understand you very well,” said the little prince. “But why do you always speak in riddles?”

    “I solve them all,” said the snake. And they were both silent.

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