Silence of the Lambs

After spending the weekend at a horror writers' conference, I'm in my Las Vegas hotel room watching Silence of the Lambs before going to sleep.

I've seen it at least 20 times, and I'm only 25 minutes into it at this point, but on this viewing I'm struck by the emphasis on how utterly isolated and alone Clarice Starling is.

She has no family, no "significant other," and only one rather casual friend; and she's one of the few women in the FBI academy. She goes alone on all her missions: to interview Hannibal Lecter, to check out the storage area, and to interview the first victim's family. She has no one to emotionally support her, encourage her, or help her.

There's also an emphasis on her Appalachian "rube" background, and her lack of preparedness.

She's alone--and unprepared--in the climactic scene when she confronts the murderer, and is nearly killed as a result.

I'm identifying with her situation after attending the writers' conference

As I struggle--once again--to acquire an agent and sell a book or screenplay, I feel like Clarice Starling: myself also an Appalachian rube and in spite of my academic training, woefully incapable and unprepared to negotiate the tricky landscape of the publishing industry.

Worst of all, like Starling, I have no family and no close friend to help, encourage, or emotionally support me.

I'm not sure what to do, or how to continue.

Like Starling, I feel utterly isolated.

And I just don't think I can go it alone.

I did, however, make some new friends at the conference. We'll see if they stay in touch. . . .

My Wedding Dream (Not My Dream Wedding)

Right out of high school I met a guy that I dated and eventually got engaged to. His name was Keith. He was talk, dark, and handsome. He was from an underprivileged family, but was very "straight" (didn't use drugs, had old-fashioned, family values) and well-mannered.

He also was dumb as a post.

He delighted in belittling me, especially in front of his friends.

I later learned that he cheated on me constantly.

I didn't have a mother, but my best friend's mother adored Keith. She was always buying him things--one time she gave him a TV for his apartment.

Everyone seemed to think Keith was the perfect guy--a great "catch."

After we'd gone together for about a year, he enlisted in the Air Force. When he came home on leave for Christmas, he stayed at our house and we got engaged. He formally and politely asked my father for "my hand" before buying me a beautiful diamond ring. His best friend--Bob, who remained my very good friend until he died last year--went with us to pick it out.

Keith said that now that I was engaged to him and he was away in the Air Force, I wasn't allowed to go out with friends. He said I had to stay home every night, including weekends.

I was 19 and in college.

In letters that he wrote, and when I'd talk to him on the phone, he'd cruelly ridicule everything about me. I had a male friend from childhood who was chubby. Keith referred to him as "that fat slob."

By the following summer--surprise, surprise--we were no longer engaged.

Last night I had a dream in which Keith and I got married.

I'm rapidly forgetting the dream, but the salient features were these:

• We had a traditional, formal church wedding and reception.



• The two bridesmaids were two girls from my high school that in real life I despised.



• I received white bed sheets as wedding gifts.



• I had no say at all in planning the wedding; Keith planned everything.



• There was a really fancy "souvenir program" from the wedding. It was full of quotes from Keith's friends, and references to his friends, and references to sports (I'm not a sports fan). I didn't even know about the program until I saw one after the reception. When I saw it, I felt hurt and excluded and disappointed and powerless.



• No friends or family members of mine were at the wedding or the reception.



• Keith got totally drunk at the reception and passed out.



• While Keith was passed out, I went for a walk and bought ice cream from an outdoor ice-cream vendor.



• While Keith was passed out, I decided I'd made a mistake and would ask for an annulment.



• In the dream, the only way to get an annulment was if the marriage was not consumated, and I knew I had to be very careful not to have sex with Keith.

I was relieved when I awoke and found it was only a dream.

Shakespeare in Love

Last night I watched Shakespeare in Love again.

I didn't see it when it first came out, but I watched it about four years ago when I was working on a screenplay with a similar historical setting.

Anyway, the writing is superb, of course, because Tom Stoppard is a co-author.

Without giving it away, I'll say that the final shipwreck sequence is fabulous.

I like the open-endedness of not knowing if Shakespeare is describing the end of his beloved Viola, or the beginning of character he creates based on her. The DVD includes an alternative ending that's much more direct about the fate of Viola, and although I loved seeing it, I think the director made the right choice with the vaguer ending he used.

One of the last lines is this (spoken by Shakespeare as he begins the new play):

"My story starts at sea . . . a perilous voyage to an unknown land . . . a shipwreck . . . the wild waters roar and heave . . . the brave vessel is dashed all to pieces, and all the helpless souls within her drowned . . . all save one . . . a lady . . . whose soul is greater than the ocean . . . and her spirit stronger than the sea's embrace. . . ."

I particularly identify with the last phrase, "a lady . . . whose soul is greater than the ocean . . . and her spirit stronger than the sea's embrace. . . ."

But I'd be better off if I didn't.

I'd be much better off if I were just a conventional person, a bland and boring person.

Just as Viola would have been better off if she'd been more conventional.

REALLY Funny Website

Check out this website. It features actual photos of shoppers in WalMart and the weird things they wear.

Here's a sample:

Glutton for Punishment

I'm getting a lot of mileage out of this pig picture.

Anyway, I must be a glutton for punishment. I just paid $65 each to enter two screenplays in the Screenwriting Expo contest. I pony up my cash to enter only the contests that really pay big bucks, and this pays the biggest bucks of all: Grand Prize = $20,000 in cash.

The problem is how utterly miserable I'll be if I don't see my name on the winner's list next month. I don't expect to win the grand prize, but I think I'd just about kill to be a semi-finalist.

Please God, please please please!

No Hog, I

I'm losing weight like crazy.

At first I was sort of trying to diet, but now I don't even have to try. I just don't have an appetite. It might be the altitude (4000 feet) I'm at here in Sedona. At a high altitude it takes more calories to do even simple things, like climb a flight of stairs, so you burn more calories, I guess.

Anyway, I'm back down to what I weighed when I was in college. That means I can get on a scale fully clothed and weight less than 120.

Doofuses

Okay, this makes me so crazy I'm posting it in two different versions on both of my blogs. Not that anyone reads this stuff, but here goes:

The people at the UPS store I deal with are idiots.

I'm expecting a large check, which I intend to use to get a cashier's check that I have to come up with in two weeks.

The UPS store in question is supposed to forward my mail to me each week. So all week I've been waiting for the mail and expecting this check.

I called the lady yesterday, and she assured me that she had forwarded my mail to me on August 28 and that I would get it that afternoon.

I didn't.

I called today, and now she says she *thinks* she sent some mail to me on August 28--but she's not sure.

Okay, says moi, what's the tracking number?

Oh, says she, there is no tracking number. I just gave it to the mail carrier.

Now this is a company that makes its living managing people's mail.

And she has no record or even memory of whether she forwarded my mail, and no tracking number.

And in the meantime, where is my check? If the check has been lost, of course I can get it reissued, but that will take a month or more, and meanwhile I have to come up with a cashier's check within the next two weeks.

And get this, when I complained, the guy at the store said, "Well, we forward mail for 40 customers. You can't expect us to keep track of everything."

Uh, yeah, I do expect that. That's what I pay you for!

Thanks a lot, UPS store.