I haven't seen many of the critically acclaimed movies this year, and I like to know what they're talking about when I watch the Oscars, so last night I decided to stream 12 Years a Slave. I've been wanting to see this film for a while, but it's not one of those movies where you can easily organize a group to go see it. "Hey, y'all! Let's go see the horrifying slavery movie! It'll be fun! LOL!" Yeah, not so much. As the proud holder of a Bachelor's degree in History, I have this problem a lot. The same thing happened when I wanted to see Downfall--Hitler's last days in the bunker and the poisoning of innocent children isn't exactly palatable fare for most people. That's why I chose to skip the theater and stream this one online--I suspect this film's doing just fine with money, anyway, with all the aforementioned critical acclaim. Ultimately, I think in-my-bed-alone was the best circumstance in which to watch it, because I just ugly-cried into my pillow half the time. Seriously, this film is so good. It is unforgiving on the viewer, which is just what it should be. It needs to win all the awards. All of them.
Hence the puffy eyes. Hopefully those will go away in the shower.
I spent this morning writing the last part of Chapter 6 of my novel. Normally I'm more of an afternoon writer than a morning writer, but hey, sometimes you have to shake things up. It came out easier than I thought it would, which is nice. It reveals something critical to the plot, which even the main character doesn't notice at first. These parts of the novel are, in a way, the easiest and hardest to write. Easiest because you're looking forward to writing them, because they're exciting. Hardest because you want to get them just right. Then there's the parts of the novel that you don't look forward to writing--not filler, exactly, but events that need to occur even though they're not particularly exciting. Easy because they're usually shorter than the significant portions, hard because you're inclined to rush through them.
I wrote in bed, so that's the source of the sore back. Often when I write I get into this zone where nothing moves except my pen; the rest of my muscles tense up. Not so pleasant. Hopefully that will go away when I go running, which I should do soon!
The onslaught of emails from this semester's professors has finally begun, encouraging us to read before class starts. The list from our theory professor is especially hefty, but that's okay. I'll figure it out. I guess I asked for it. See my post from yesterday.
Today's poem is actually me brainstorming for a story I want to write, loosely inspired by the Wikipedia entry about the Texas Vampires that Leta sent me. I want to combine it somehow with the story of the founding of Zion, IL that I mentioned the other day, with the crazy faith healer and whatnot. But I think it would be set in modern times. The problem is that I was trying to write parts of it in short flash pieces from different perspectives, but I have a horrible suspicion that it needs to be written more as a novella. I'm reading The Master and Margarita, and I'm thinking it might have that same kind of zany vibe. I don't know that I have the energy to write a novel and a novella. Not that I have to write them at the same time, but I kind of want to? I really want to say #writerproblems right now, but now you're all going to yell at me for using a hashtag in a blog entry, where it doesn't even work. Yes, yes, I know. I'm being ruined by Twitter. Whatever.
So, can you brainstorm a story with a poem? I don't know, and I don't care, because I did it anyway. Enjoy:
It is God's will
when the scientist-vampires come
and prick you with their needles.
Otherwise you must not speak.
One of them drinks your blood
right out of the glass vial,
tongue tasting for
He wants to catch
You think this could be love.