On a scale of one to ten, does this not weigh in at a solid nine of delight? It’s not just that it turns out Amanda Seyfried has a kind of lovely voice. It’s that the music is exactly the kind of spooky you might hope for, especially with the one-note piano melody going on in the background there, that kind of sounds like it’s from a slasher film.
Perez Hilton says this is on iTunes, but I’ll be damned if I can find it.
1. The State Museum it is. I had a plan for the State Library, but I don’t for the State Museum.
2. I think Jimmy Page is coming to more and more resemble my grandma.
3. When I was coming in to work today, the light on the skyline was weird. Somehow a lot of buildings looked just like shadows and I could pick out Jubilee Hall, which I am dying to have an excuse to put in a story, because I find something about it delightfully creepy.
4. Faust was performed in Nashville in the 1890s on average every other year. I would love to know why. I mean, I guess maybe people just liked it.
5. Ignoring the fact that the asshole cats have torn my screens to shreds, how cute is this? (It does remind me that I need to ask Santa for a camera for Christmas. Mine died in the ceiling collapse.)
Ha, I know. It’s so boring around here. I may have other thoughts someday, again, but for the next little while it’s going to be “walked the dog,” “worked on the afghan,” and “Project X blah blah blah.”
The part I’m working on now is not very easy. Basically because the main character has to do something so monumentally stupid in order for the last story to take place that I am already annoyed with her. And yet, I want it to make sense that she does this monumentally stupid thing.
If you imagine the structure of the whole piece, it goes “strange, beautiful clues you have no context for,” “fragmented hints of something very bad happening,” “stories of other bad things you thought might be this bad thing but maybe aren’t,” “Oh, here’s the bad thing, and it’s kind of wonderful,” “Oh, here’s the bad thing and it’s kind of terrible,” “Oh, here’s the bad thing and, oops, that’s a foreseeable tragedy I failed to foresee (even though I am a psychic) and now I’m dead,” and “Here’s a hard lesson I learned in dealing with a bad thing.”
So, like a good horror story, it goes on a downward slope and then levels off in Unsettling-ville. But each story, I hope, still has rising action and a culmination of things that makes sense. In other words, just because she’s sitting at the bottom of the slope of horror doesn’t mean her story has to feel inevitably… well, inevitable. There still must be a sense that, even though the story has a place in this larger structure, it works as its own story.
We’ll see. I’m kind of struggling with it. It should get easier once I decide if she’s going to rob the TSLA or the State Museum.
Oh, lord. Did I mention she’s going to rob a huge state institution? I do kind of love that about her.
Tiny Cat Pants 