I spent a few weeks in Wisconsin, in the lovely Door County, which is a vacation spot for locals. You know what I mean: lots of water frontage, kayak rentals, fudge shops. Very low key. Green. Restful.
While we were there, we went to the outdoor theater to see a double feature of Dark Shadows and The Avengers. The theater was a blast–kids played soccer in the open field in front of the screen before the shows, and watching the obsessive SUV drive into spot after spot looking for the perfect parking place was almost entertaining enough on its own.
Both movies were extremely fun, and much popcorn was consumed. But is it just me? Watching Dark Shadows, I recalled what many writers have said about prologues: Kill them. I just thought that opening sequence went on forever and I waited… and waited… and waited for the movie to start. I love Tim Burton and I’d watch a movie of Johnny Depp doing his laundry. But he wasn’t in the prologue except as a voiceover. Maybe that was the problem.
I got the cover for my new book today. The book—really a novella, just in case you’re thinking it’s more the length of War and Peace—is called 
If you’re a writer and you’re having trouble finishing (or starting) your book, you might want to check this out. Beth Barany, who’s a writing coach over at the 
I went to a play this week, A Doctor in Spite of Himself. It was hilarious. It poked fun at the medical profession and how health care is delivered. It poked fun of the rich. It poked fun at politicians. It poked fun at itself and the audience. I haven’t laughed that hard at a play since I don’t know when. And Moliere wrote it in 1666. Which just shows you that great writing never grows old.
Susan B. Anthony was born to Quaker parents with long activist traditions on February 15, 1820 in Adams, Massachusetts. She campaigned for the abolition of slavery, women’s right to their own property and earnings, and women’s labor organizations. In 1900, Anthony persuaded the University of Rochester to admit women. She was a tireless supporter of women’s suffrage and was arrested in 1872 for voting, but legal maneuvering meant that her case never went to the Supreme Court. Women did not win the vote until fourteen years after her death.
Also celebrated on February 15: Galileo’s birthday. Born in 1564 (or so), Galileo was an Italian physicist, mathematician, astronomer, and philosopher. His achievements include improvements to the telescope; his astronomical observations advanced the Copernican theory that the earth and other planets revolved around the sun, the discovery of the four largest satellites of Jupiter (named the Galilean moons in his honour), and the analysis of sunspots. The Inquisition tried him for heresy and found him guilty, and he spent the rest of his life imprisoned in his house.
John Sutter was born on February 15, 1803, in Baden, Germany, came to the United States, and settled in California. He qualified for a land grant and was given 48,000 acres to farm. He established a town, set up a trading fort, and propered—until 1848, when James Marshall saw gold in his stream, launching the gold rush. Squatters came by the thousands, destroying his crops and butchering his herds. By 1852, the town was devastated and Sutter was bankrupt.
February 15 is National Gumdrop Day! (Possibly also known as Happy Dentist Day.) Gumdrops were invented in the 1800s, and although Congress has never sanctioned National Gumdrop Day and no president has honored it with a proclamation, Milton-Bradley did immortalize the confection in its Candyland board game. First introduced in 1949, the game includes Gumdrop Mountain and Gumdrop Pass. Chew on that, my friends!
Yeah, not the way Ray Milland lost it in the 1945 movie. In the movie, Milland goes on a four-day bender and sees how he screwed up his life. Generally speaking, a right jolly film and a mention just in time for this year’s Oscar season. For those who want to know, The Lost Weekend was based on a semi-autobiographical novel written by Charles R. Jackson and won four golden statues: for best actor Milland, director Billy Wilder, best picture, and best screenplay (Wilder and Charles Brackett). In the movie, the Ray Milland character is also a writer, and he pawns his typewriter (1945, remember) for a drink.
My lost weekend was not exactly lost, certainly not this way, just sort of misplaced. I wanted to work on my own book, but my characters are stuck in a car half-way across Nevada. What are they supposed to do now?
So instead I worked on other people’s books. And it was a very productive time, peaceful and sometimes needing a bit of a push, like hatching an egg, I suppose. I felt happy. Except I just don’t know how to get those people out of the car and out of Nevada.
Hanna gave me a great idea today–do a monthly notice/review of a book (maybe a free book, if I can find enough that I like enough, otherwise maybe paid but obscure, or paid and best seller, we’ll see how it goes). And–I just did that yesterday! So consider that post the first of a series. If anyone has any suggestions, I’m open. I’m partial to genre fiction and literary fiction where the characters do things. I read other stuff, too.
Kay Keppler, author 