Meh, slash fic

As I’ve mentioned, I’m not a slash fan. I tend to prefer when fan work sticks to canon, so I don’t really enjoy when the characters’ relationships are disrupted to suit an author’s personal preferences. But another thing that bothers me is how it encourages fans to interpret everything characters who are close to each other do through a lens searching for romantic possibility. This propensity in slash often leads to the invalidating of the notion that FRIENDSHIP CAN BE A POWERFUL AND MEANINGFUL RELATIONSHIP IN AND OF ITSELF. Of course, my making this argument at all is kind of missing the fact that slash is mostly porn. The assumption is made all the time that women don’t like or don’t use porn, which irks me for a lot of feminist reasons, and is obviously refuted by the existence of slash. So I don’t like to gloss over it, and that makes it a little less silly to bitch about. But still, there’s a big cultural concept going on that suggests that friendship is inferior to romantic connection. A girl who doesn’t want to date a guy is “demoting” him to friend status, for example. This is what pushes people away from making real connections with each other non-sexually or non-romantically, either because they think those relationships aren’t as valuable, or that they’re afraid that, since people assume romantic relationships are the only ones worth seriously pursuing, their attempts at closeness will be perceived as romantic interest. This is especially off-putting if there is a concern of making other think the person is gay. So we don’t get a lot of strong portrayals of friendship, or when we do, people wonder at the supposedly “romantic” undertones. :-P And in real life, we get lots of people who don't have any strong connections outside of their significant others, which leads to less emotional support in their lives.

Pride and Prejudice and elsewise

Yowza, busy here. Lots of the things on the plate right now, which has lead to a lot of running around. And in what little free time I've had I've wasted on TV Tropes. I am mostly fascinated by the ones about behind-the-scenes things of the writer's process. Nobody is surprised.

So, things. I forgot to talk about seeing Jared's show Pride and Prejudice last Saturday. I screwed up the planning for the outing; I really should have suggested we meet at the restaurant at six rather than six-thirty, but the service kept us waiting for forty-five minutes anyway until we got after people to just bring us our meals with boxes so we could get to the theater on time. I was pretty pissed about that, though as I said I should have planned better. We did manage to get there on time and I actually enjoyed the show very much. There were a lot of good actors in it, and I liked the costumes and the theory behind the set design, even if it didn't always quite work with the space. It was also quite thrilling to see Jared, Tegan, and Jenn on a big fancy professional stage like that. Jared himself was great, turning in a fairly difference performance from his previous work, Bingley's sweet naivete a real departure from the Angry Authority Figures he's mostly been cast as. I am going again tomorrow night, hopefully with less trouble around eating beforehand. I am admiring this group a great deal, and I hope I get to be in one of their productions before long.

I had my first read through for Sherlock Holmes last night. I was not at all as good as I wanted to be starting off, for some reason I felt very stiff and not very expressive, so the first half of the script I was a little disappointed in myself. Paranoia setting in me makes want to prevent anyone from regretting my casting. But the second half I did a lot better with, so hopefully nobody was too disappointed. I am confident I will warm up soon. I finally have my rehearsal schedule, which takes two or three days a week. Sadly, frequent Thursday rehearsals mean I will miss out on ballet class that night rather often for the next few months. This makes me sad, as I don't want to hold back my progress, and I like the Thursday night teacher as well as the Tuesday night one. But at least I can start planning things.

Like GM meetings, for example. The Stand is cast and sent, and I plan on doing all the printing on my own, but I'd like to have a meeting where we go over plot stuff and make a plan of who will be running what. Paranoia needs more. We unfortunately have not cast yet, but it's such a silly larp that even though it has a story the character sheets don't need a ton of time to read or plan about. And costuming is almost without exception "red shirt, black pants," so no need to give people lead time on that. But we need to refamiliarize ourselves with the game, we haven't run it in two years, organize all the materials, and figure out how the printing's going to get done. Fortunately I think we can get on this in pretty short order.

Another Author Trademark of mine

Thought of another thing that crops up in my work a lot. Metatheater! I love, love, love metatheater. To Think of Nothing was my first stab at it, though the theater is the vehicle and the real point is the creation of any kind of art. I someday would like to write other works set in the same universe of that play, dealing with other themes of art and theater. Merely Players, however, really hits on it, being specifically about the process of putting together a production. I am hoping to adapt that idea into a short, funny two-hour larp that deals with the same themes, hopefully with as much humor potential. Making something metatheatrical automatically makes it more interesting to me, probably because I just like theater. I like making it, I like the process and the quirks and the environment of it, and I love it as an art form. So, in years to come when people are analyzing all the various facets of my work, they will surely declare a Phoebe Roberts Author Trademark to be Metatheater. :-)

An Author Trope of mine

I got sucked into wasting some time on TV Tropes, and some of the most interesting ones to me are those about the workings of the Author-- their particular styles, beliefs, preferences, even kinks --emerging in their work. Some of them were creepy and weird, some of them we just about themes they liked exploring. Which made me think about what I like to tackle a lot. I could name a lot of general things, like guilt and redemption, but there's one thing much more specific than that which springs to mind. I'm sure there are others, but this one occurs strongly to me right now.

I have written or at least conceived of several protagonist who are strongly affected by their paralyzing fear of confessing their feelings to the person they love. And it's not simply for fear of rejection; there's a level of denial in there, believing that they are unworthy of that person and therefore should not presume. Most importantly, there's the conviction that this person is it, the one, and once they receive the rejection they're fairly sure is coming then they've not only humiliated themselves, they're no longer able to even hold out hope anymore. Cassander is my first example of this, whose entire arc is overcoming this. I am also working on Sundan, whose arc is conversely how he allows this to destroy himself and everyone around him. There's a small bit of this in Gabriel, but it's part of his generally issue with feeling less than worthy and isn't the defining aspect of it. There may be others elsewhere in my writing, but those probably exemplify it most strongly.

Best Cookie Monster moment ever

This is a link to the video of Cookie Monster on The Colbert Report. It contains what may be the single funniest thing I've ever heard.

"Me had crazy time in 70s and 80s. Me was Robert Downey, Jr. of cookies."

I die. <3

Dad's cheese progress

My dad sent me some pictures of the results of all his efforts in cheesemaking. This is his cheese locker, a mini-fridge kept around sixty-three degrees in the basement. The top shelf is all little bries made of goat's milk, sealed in plastic so as not to contaminate other cheeses with their mold. The narrower yellow ones are the wheels of cheddar he and I made, while the thicker ones are cow's milk manchego. The big pale ones are gouda. This is about twenty pounds of cheese, all and all.

Here are my dad's latest products, two wheels of Swiss being kept at seventy-five degrees with little glasses of water to produce humidity. This is to encourage the growth of bacteria to produce the carbon dioxide that is responsible for blowing Swiss's characteristic holes. They stay in that box for three weeks, getting regularly washed with salt water, then they will be waxed and go into the cheese fridge to age for at least three months.

The only ones that are approaching readiness are the cheddar, which we made around Christmastime. Dad says when I come home for Easter we'll break into one and see how it came out. That will be the first time we taste a hard cheese we made ourselves.

Dad and Mom have also been making ricotta out of the whey that's left over from making the hard cheeses. I looked up a bunch of ricotta recipes for them, and they've made some delicious things. They sent me this picture of one such ricotta-based meal, roasted eggplant and ricotta crostini with strawberries in balsamic ricotta cream.

Readying The Stand for Festival, and Pride and Prejudice opening

I sent out all the character sheets for The Stand. I'm pleased with myself for getting them out a month in advance, because it gives people time to read all the materials (there's a fair bit of them) and to get their costuming together. I hope my players like them.

I wrote a short play last semester about two characters, a PC and an NPC, in The Stand. My teacher liked it and I was happy with how it came out. It occurs to me that there's probably more ten minute plays I could get out of the characters in this game. Something between Tall Bear and Negahse'wey, for example. Hmm. Might be worth thinking about. I do want to write more ten minute plays, and they get easier to perform all in an evening of theater when they're related in some way.

I am excited to get cast in the games I'm playing, Jesriah and Folding the River. They both sounds like they're going to be awesome. I desire very strongly to costume these games out of my own closet. I have made a number of interesting acquisitions from thrift stores over the last few months, fortunately none expensive but they do add up after a while, that I would really like to make use of. Both to justify their purchase and to prevent me from spending any more on costuming in the near future! ;-)

Tonight is the opening of the play that Jared, Tegan, and Jenn are in, Pride and Prejudice. Unfortunately I won't be able to be there tonight, but I know it will be great and I'm really excited to see it. I am going with a large group Saturday night, so anyone who'd care to come with company is welcome to join us. I'll be going again next Friday night, and have yet to make plans to join anyone, so please let me know if you'll be there then. Jared shaved off his beloved beard for this role, so go if only to ensure that its sacrifice will not be in vain!

Gwyneth Paltrow's Oscar dress

While I didn't watch the Oscars this year, a lot of the sewing and style blogs I read include pictures of the outfits worn by the celebrity attendees. Apparently dresses with peplums were big-- whatever. :-P My favorite gown, however, surprised me. It was worn by Gwyneth Paltrow and not something I would have expected to like, but I found it elegant in the extreme and absolutely perfect on her.

It's a white Tom Ford column dress inspired by Jackie O's famous 1961 white inaugural ball gown, made by Bergdorf Goodman's Ethel Frankau but designed by the first lady herself.

Frankly I hate Jackie's outfit, I think it's prissy and frumpy and hasn't aged well-- honestly my irritation at the way we've canonized Jackie's style, and in fact her and her whole family, is a subject for a whole other post --but weirdly I love Gwyneth's. The dress itself is simple, fits her well, has an interesting neckline shape, and while normally I would find a cape to be an awkward additional to modern formal wear, this one complements her look perfectly. It has a sleek shape, not to much weight or volume, and I love the way it cuts diagonally over her shoulders but then opens just a little to lay away from the rest of her.

Milanoo.com, a website that sells various sorts of interesting dresses at prices low enough to make me suspect the quality, is offering a replica of this dress at discount, around $127. I confess this tempts me; I like this dress a lot and think it would look good on my body type. I'm not as tall as Gwyneth, which I think helps her pull it off, but I still think it would look nice. But it's not like I need any more dresses, especially formal ones; my thrifting expeditions have yielded more than I have occasion to wear. I definitely should not be spending the money. Also, I am wary of knockoff even in the best of cases. I notice the Milanoo website describes this dress as "one shoulder," but when you see pictures of Gwyneth with the cape off, as it is apparently removable, you can see that it clearly has both sleeves, just an asymmetrical neckline that creates the illusion otherwise when the cape is on. So chances are they screwed up the design.

Hi, Pepper and Tony. Wow, I never noticed how much taller she is than him.

Anyway, so it seems likely that buying this dress from Milanoo would be a waste. Now I'm wondering if I could sew such a thing. It wouldn't have to be an exact replica, I'd just need to make a column dress, maybe emulating the asymmetrical necklace, and figure our how to make a cape that would drape in exactly the same way that this one does. I'm not sure what the fabric should be, probably something smooth but with stretch, given the way it fits. Likely something with crispness to it too, given the folds in the bodice. Not sure I'd need to both copying those, but I do think they're nice. It may yet be beyond my skill, but I'll definitely be adding to it my List of Dresses I Want to Copy Someday, along with the Margaret dress and the Cordelia dress.

With trouble and at length, The Stand is cast for Festival

Cast The Stand for Festival last night, one of the longest and hardest casting sessions I've ever had to do. Took me literally five hours yesterday. Frequently I'll get a run where everyone wants to be the same character. Usually everyone wants to be the heroic white hat, and finding a villain is next to impossible. This time around everyone wants to be a baddie, or a shifty shade of gray. I've got some of those but not an entire game, so I struggled to fit people in as best I could. I really hope people like their characters even if they're not perfectly what they ask for, I tried really hard to make do. :-P Hints are out now, as well as bluesheets and rules. I want to look over the full character sheets before I send them. Even though the game's been run twice before, I like to make sure there's nothing that needs tweaking between runs before I give them out.

There's one player who I have not heard any communication from whatsoever. No casting questionnaire despite numerous pokes, no nothing. I'm a little afraid she's not going to show up. I cast her in what I consider to be the easiest character to excise from the game just to be safe, but still, I want that character there. I think what I may do is engage a pinch hitter to be on standby to step in and take over the role if necessary. Of course, I would technically be within my rights to replace her entirely. Last year when I was con chair of Festival, one of the GMs contacted me to say that she had a player who was completely unresponsive, even to an email asking to please even confirm that he was still interested in playing. I made the call that she could cut him off her list and put the first person on the waitlist in. I'll give this person a little more time and at least one more ultimatum to respond and confirm that she wants to be involved, then I may just do that myself.

Anybody interested in doing me a huge favor and possibly taking over this role? :-)

Photo shoot with Gigi and Jenn

God knows the very thing I need is more projects, but I like keeping busy and making neat things, especially when lovely friends and collaborators are involved in the process. Yesterday I had the chance to do just that with and the invaluable help of , and I'm really pleased with how it went.

Both Jenn and I have had the very honor to be the subject of a photo shoot by the lovely and talented , who sets up gorgeous scenarios with settings and costuming, gives wonderful direction on how to model the idea behind the shoot, and has an eye for just the right shots. It was so much fun, and I really admire the works that Haz makes. Though I don't have a fraction of her knowledge and experience, I found myself wanting to try my hand at something along those lines.

I liked the idea of coming up with a little character and plot and setting up a photo shoot to depict that story visually. My first idea I particularly wanted to be the sort where you look at the picture is ostensibly about one thing, but if you examine it more closely to can figure out what's really going on. I will not tell you what my theory was here, because I'd prefer to see who gleans it from looking at the finished series of photos.

For this first time the person I wanted to work with was , who is a talented, expressive actress, lovely to look upon, and always wonderful to work with. I thought she would be perfect for this character, a fancy society lady named Esmeralda. But of course she needed to be costumed for the part, so naturally I turned to the expert in the matter, everyone's favorite Costume Fairy Jenn. She provided two lovely evening gowns, one a clingy dark blue with sparkles all over it, the other a sleek one-shoulder burgundy with a sweeping skirt. They were absolutely the right look, and Gigi looked fabulous in them! Jenn has such a good eye, and not only for that. As we set up the space, wrangling my house into an appropriate setting for the little drama-in-pictures we wanted to tell, Jenn had a wealth of ideas for shots, for tweaks to optimize the image we were trying to portray, and notes for Gigi's acting. And Gigi was as awesome as ever. She has so much talent and her incredibly expressive face is just perfect for getting things across in a visual medium. Also, she is willing to try anything and just throw herself in to the best of her ability. That might be my favorite thing to work with in a collaborator of any kind, a willingness to throw out ideas and try and experiment and see what works. I'm so grateful to both of them for taking the time to lend their talent and efforts.

It took hours, and we wrecked the place with all our props, costumes, and tools, but I learned a lot about what to expect from running a photography shoot. I think I will be a lot more prepared and streamlined in the future. Here's a teaser for you all, a very roughly edited shot from the shoot that I think captures a particularly get moment from Gigi. The rest I'll post once I've had a chance to go through them all, and put them through a real editing program.

From FALLEN - "The Bell"

I wrote this short piece as a submission for my science fiction and fantasy class. This is a scene from a fantasy novel I have been thinking of writing for quite some time. The idea is that after a great battle with the forces of hell, a team of people from a religious university that trains people with special powers find what seems to them to be a baby demon. A nun named Magdalena speaks up for his life, names him Gabriel, and raises him at the university to fight on their side. Still, he is regarded as a monster by many and struggles a great deal with the question of whether or not he really is one, particularly when he is confronted by how holy objects have the power to hurt him.

This part is inspired in large part by the Night on Bald Mountain segment of Fantasia. I do so love my Catholic ceremony, imagery, philosophy, and issues of guilt. ;-)

~~~

In his explorations of the buildings of the school, Gabriel had gone many times through the rafters of the bell tower. The time at St. Michael’s was often kept with the ringing of bells, from the beginning of the school day at seven in morning and every hour until the day’s end at nine at night. The bells housed in the tower there were a varied assortment, some new, some relics brought in from across the world, burnished bright or tarnished with age, plainly made or ornately designed. He had examined each of them in turn as climbed. Some were for the keeping of time, some were for occasions based on their histories. But there was one among them more special than any.

She was a grand and ancient bell, French-made and rich brass, so artfully cast and engraved that even in the three hundred years since her making she was still sound and lovely. She had hung in Chartres, in Barcelona, even in Rome, before her gifting to the school had brought her to her place of honor in the tower. He had seen her there, and saw the words etched into her flanged edge. Her name was La Voix de l’Espoir, the Voice of Hope. Beneath her name there was an inscription in Latin, Hear me and do not despair.

She did not sound often; she was too old and precious for that, only on occasions of deep significance. They saved her to celebrate Easter and Christmas. To mourn the loss of the beloved dead. To commemorate moments of importance for the institution of St. Michael’s. Today was one such moment. Today a new priest was arriving to be installed as minister to the school, and that meant the holy bell would ring in honor of the beginning of the new day.

Gabriel had risen early to scale the rooftops this morning, but not the bell tower. He had chosen the steeple over the library instead. It was climbed so rarely that it was sure that no one would be there at this early hour. That was as Gabriel wanted it, somewhere out of the way, somewhere he’d be certain to be alone, within hearing distance of the bell. Of course, it was difficult to move out of hearing distance of this bell.

There was no wind that morning, and there was no place higher than the steeple to glide from, so Gabriel had to climb. He was thankful for how early it was, as no one was likely to see him do it. Braden didn’t like it when he scrambled up the walls like a squirrel when everyone was looking on. He also had to take care not to damage the stone façade; it would have been easier to just punch his talons in as he climbed, but he didn’t want to any more damage than he had to. Braden wouldn’t like that either.

It was only a few minutes to seven when he reached the balcony. It was empty except for a few folding chairs, left there by the occasional student who ascended all those stairs to find a quiet lonely place to study. From here you could see the whole campus, the rooftop of almost every other building of the school. Gabriel liked high places; for a brief while, they allowed him to forget what he was.

It was moments to seven. Carefully, deliberately, he leaned over the parapet and braced his claws on the stone. Head bowed, every cord of muscle in his body tensed, he waited.

The bell tolled, and Gabriel shuddered.

One.

He could not recall just how old he’d been the first time he’d heard it, such things did not keep easily in his head. But he’d been at Saint Michael’s as long as he could remember, surely it had happened since his infancy, some Christmas morning, some Easter day. It had to have come early enough that he learned early what was coming, and what that coming meant.

His whole body burst through with the pain.

Two.

The tolling of bells was a common occurrence at St. Michael's, with a number of small ringers in the tower pealing all day long to mark the passage of time. Every day of his life spent at the academy he had heard them call out hour by hour. At their sounding Gabriel had never felt so much as a twinge. But the keepers of the hours were ordinary secular chimes. La Voix was a bell of the church.

The sound sank into him, the deep resonance of a holy instrument, its sacred nature giving it a power beyond the simple enormity of its voice. Its tone was imbued with all the divine quality of any object bearing the auspice of the church-- beautiful, powerful, and utterly unbearable to the hearing of a demon.

Three.

His claws trembled against the parapet, aching to gouge into the stone, but instead he clenched them into fists, so tightly that his talons sank into the scales of his palms. Sometimes in church they rang special hand bells to mark the consecration of the bread and wine. From the rafters were he lurked during mass he had felt the swift punch of their high sharp voices, like the darting of knives in quick succession. Their blows pierced but were brief as they chimed out a few times and were silenced. Gabriel could endure them with no great struggle. But La Voix was huge, La Voix was resonant, and La Voix had received the Baptism.

It was the Baptism of the Bells that gave it that power. Washed with holy water by the hands of a bishop, anointed without by the oil of the infirm and within by the sacred chrism, filled by smoke of a fuming censor. With these sacraments, the bishop’s prayer conferred upon it the power to protect from storms, call the faithful to prayer, and drive demons to flight.

He would not fly. Nor would he howl; not a cry, not a sound. Only the jags of his ragged breath, and the bell.

Four.

Every peal seized him like a vice, yet twisted the joining of his bones until he thought he might be wrenched apart. He clamped one claw over the ridges of brow, as if to hold his skull together. His serpentine neck curled inward, tucking his head nearly to his chest. There were many things the apocrypha suggested about demons that posed no danger to Gabriel. He could hear mass, say prayers, and without fear enter into a church. Magdalena held it up as evidence that he was no monster beyond redemption. Others like Braden were unconvinced— the workings of Hell were of course not fully understood, and never would be. Besides, there were still so many things that branded him unholy. He was burned by the water in the font, he could enter the church but never stand upon the altar, and the pain that exploded in him at sound of the church bell.

Five.

His whole body curled inward on itself. His tail, usually snaking in constant movement, had twisted itself up in contortions. He went to great lengths to ensure he was always alone when the bell rung, because there was no way he could hide what it did to him.

Once it had happened in front of Magda, the night when Rodrigo Cortez had died. It had been some time in coming; he had elected to stop treatment and come back to his place at the school to meet the end. She had come to his room to speak to him, to tell him the end was near, to speak to him of how felt. But when La Voix rang out to tell the world the priest was dead, she saw for the first time the misery it beat into it him with every clang of its clapper.

He remembered the shock and horror on her face, then look of dawning realization as she understood, transforming swiftly into that horrible gut-wrenching pity that shamed him to his soul, to see her reminded yet again that this was his nature, to be ever wounded by holy things. She had darted for the door, given a burst of frantic energy in her upset, but he managed to throw himself in front of it and desperately shake his head, refusing to let her leave. He could not speak in his agony, but the meaning was clear, that she could not stop the bell, not without letting everyone know why. She had spent more than twenty years trying to make them believe he was not a monster beyond redemption. She could not reveal this without giving them one more to reason to denounce him for what he was. So she had stood there and watched, quietly sobbing behind her hands, unable even to comfort him for fear of his agonized thrashing. She could give out the means to tear him down, or she could let him suffer in silence. But she knew him well enough to know which pain he’d rather bear. And so he did, every time, bracing his battered body and counting the strokes.

Six.

His knees buckled and he collapsed onto all fours. He gasped helplessly through the tight locking of his teeth. He could not bear much more, his jaw would crack, his skull would split, his insides would twist apart. He wondered if this was what it felt like to be dying, if the pain was so great that it would actually kill him.

But then at last, there rang the final toll.

Seven.

He almost screamed. He almost writhed and thrashed and struck heedlessly at the stone. He could have torn the balcony to pieces in his pain. But he tensed his every muscle through the bell’s final peal and let it take one last blow through him.

The tremors stopped as the toll faded into silence.

He sank down against his forearms, pressing his snout into the floor. He held still a moment, his breath evening out, the deep permeating ache slowly melting from his bones. Unsteadily he stood and stretched, shrugging his shoulders and spreading his wings as wide as they could go. It was better this way, better to hide it. There would be no more speculation, no more constant sidelong glances wondering at the true depths of his monstrousness. He was debated and prodded and suspiciously regarded enough.

But it was more than only that. He did not want the bell silenced. This was penance. Penance for the thing that he was.
He blew out hard through his still-clenched teeth. He straightened slowly, releasing by inches the tension in his muscles. Unlike his burns and scars, this left no marks that anyone could see, nothing that remained after the ordeal was ended. The pain had disappeared, gone as completely as if it had never been. There was only that strange lingering weakness, soul-deep, that hung in his limbs like a weight before it too faded into nothingness.

Gabriel stepped out onto the ledge of the balcony and spread his wings to catch the wind. Seven in the morning on the day the new priest was to arrive. There was no sense in him remaining up in the library steeple any longer. It was time for church.

He sprang powerfully off the ledge, as lithe as strong as ever, as if the agony of the last few moments had never happened, as if the bell had never rung except for only the clear, true sound echoing in his thoughts.

God, that bell was beautiful.

The collapse of the Sugar Plum Fairy

This week, both my ballet teachers said I was improving; in fact, on Tuesday Helena said in so many words that she was starting to go harder on me because I'm getting better. I am extremely pleased, as I've been working really hard.

My teacher on Thursday is Jessica Kreyer, who has for a number of years been the Children's Ballet Mistress for the Boston Ballet's annual production of The Nutcracker. One thing she likes to emphasize is how hard ballet really is, how the traditional way the dance is practiced is designed to push you to the very limit of your strength and endurance until you literally cannot go on. Obviously that's not how we're taught, but she says it is not unusual for the training of top-level professional dancers. She emphasizes this to help us feel better about how often we simply lack the strength to do certainly things correctly. Balance, for example, takes a huge amount of strength! To illustrate her point, she told us about the dancer who played the Sugar Plum Fairy in the most recent Nutcracker at the BB. Her choreography looks light, ethereal, like she's a floating weightless nymph. But to achieve that air, to execute that choreography so beautifully and technically perfect, she has to work so hard that the minute she came offstage she collapsed in a gasping heap. Jessie told us the students of hers who were also in the ballet were shocked to see it, 'cause the movies make you think that dancers just prance offstage with enough breath to have dramatic conversations and possibly stab their costars. But that is how hard the highest levels of ballet really are, and that sort of thing happens once the dancers get offstage all the time.

It was interesting to think about. That for even the very best practitioners of the art there are, it is still so hard, so demanding to them. That to do it right, even when you are a master you will never be able to give less than everything you've got. As one of my all-time favorite quotes says, from some random movie I saw in French class about Edgar Degas, it takes supreme effort to make it look effortless.

Idea for a key necklace

Ideas to do and make things pop into my little head on a fairly regular basis, as you've likely gleaned by now. Ideas involving furniture or audio drama or fish dishes that tend to end up here on the blog in excruciating detail. Now I've taken it into my head that I want a key necklace, and since I couldn't find one that matched my typically exacting mental image of a simple piece with a big, elegant but not too ornate brass key on a long matching chain, I have decided to make my own.

To that end, I have made two inexpensive eBay purchases to attain the key-necklace-satisfaction I desire. The first arrived the other day in a padded mailer, the aforementioned big, elegant but not too ornate brass key.

It's about four inches long and heavy for its size, advertised as belonging once to the lock on a chest of drawers. I am very pleased with it. I have also purchased a chain of twenty-four inches to loop through it. I want one of those old-fashioned necklaces that dangles very low on the bosom, but that may be a little too long. I can always shorten if it I desire, though, so better too much chain than too little. When it arrives I'll put them together and wear it with some whimsical ensemble which you will be most assuredly privileged to see in photographs here. :-)

Sewing project: Gertie's layer cake crinoline, mark 1

Last night I really needed a change of pace from my homework routine this week, so I decided to get in a little sewing practice. I remembered that ages ago, I decided I wanted to make another one of Gertie's tutorial projects, specifically the Layer Cake Crinoline. It was cute and looked easy enough, so I picked up some netting from the sale bin at Jo-Ann Fabrics, a semi-stiff white with great embroidery in a sort of bamboo motif with scallops on the edges. I couldn't exactly remember, but I think I got some white rayon as well for the top part. But I decided to wait until my sewing machine arrived before I started, and once I got it I started working on other projects and never got around to it. So yesterday I dug the materials back out and gave it a try.

I found the netting and pressed it smooth because it had been folded up in my basket for quite some time, but the only silky white material I could find I'm pretty sure was leftover material from when my mom made the Hamlet banners. That meant it probably isn't a garment fabric, and the drape likely isn't ideal. Still, it would probably serve, so I pressed it as well.

Then I went on the Blog for Better Sewing and found the instructions. The Layer Cake Crinoline basically consists of a slip with some elastic at the waist made of a typical lingerie fabric, with two gathered tiers beneath it made of a fabric with more body. Gertie's tutorials are good, but sometimes I think they take for granted that you already have the process of garment making down in your head, which I would not say I do yet. So I cut out two squares of my silky material to make the slip part, sewed the side seams, and pressed them open. Then I needed to put the elastic on the top edge. I cut it to fit my waist (hips actually, because I prefer my skirts to ride lower), sewed the ends together, then marked off the quarters of both the elastic band and the top edge of the slip.

I had gotten the fancy picot edge lingerie elastic like Gertie recommends, and as far as I can tell she says to sew it to the right side of the slip with the scalloped edge facing down, then fold it down into the inside so that the scalloped edge is facing up, and sew it again so that it stays in place that way. She didn't specify whether to start on the right or wrong side of the slip, however, and I sewed it on the wrong. I could have gleaned this information from looking more closely at the pictures, which it is possible to tell from, but that didn't occur to me. So when I turned the skirt right side out, the picot scallops were right side up, but had a little frill of fraying, folded over material sticking out from under the bottom edge of the elastic. Attempts to trim this off were either not complete enough or resulted in cutting little holes in the slip under the band. So I dug around in my stash and pulled out some of the lace I used to make the garter that Caitlin wore in Margaret. Cutting off one of the two frilly sides, I attached it under the waistband to cover the holes.

Next I cut the second tier of the crinoline of the embroidered netting. Gertie says it should be only five and a half inches plus seam allowances, but I wanted to preserve the bamboo embroidery pattern, so I just cut to the top of the tallest stalk. I sewed the edges of that piece together to make a tube, then put two long basting stitches in on each side so I could gather it. I folded up the hem of the slip, pinned the gathered netting underneath it, and then sewed it all together. I didn't like the look of the stitching around the bottom of the slip, however, so I took the other half of the lace and sewed it on over the hem to hide it.

That is how it currently looks. I did cut out material for the third tier, but I feel like at knee length it's already long enough. I also love the pretty embroidered scalloped edge, and I don't want to mess it up by trying to attach anything to it. Here are the details from another angle.

I'm not sure I love the look of the lace at the waist, but it sure does look nicer than it did before I put it on. I think I do like it inverted at the slip's hem, though. It's not terribly voluminous, which is the primary point of a crinoline, to add volume to the skirt you're wearing over it. Thought the way it is, I don't think it would be terribly inappropriate to wear it as just a skirt, if the weather and situation allowed.

I'm got it on today beneath my other handmade skirt project, my full gathered red silk dupioni. I'm not sure it makes any difference; the dupioni may have more body and fullness than the crinoline. I kind of like the idea of the neat edge of the crinoline peeking out beneath whatever skirt I'm wearing, but I don't know if I like the look of it here. This is my unsure face...

I think I'm going to make a second version of this project. I have plenty of the netting, and if I don't have enough of the silky stuff I'm sure I can substitute something else in that wasn't originally intended to hang from the fly system in a theater. I really want to see if I can get the elastic band technique right, so I don't have to cover up my mistakes with lace. I'm out of that stuff now anyway.  But, whether I wear it or not, my construction here isn't too shabby. Every bit of practice leads to improvement!

Directorial musings-- on running auditions

Though I am happy to get the chance to step out of the director's chair and onto the stage for once, recent events and some interesting conversations have gotten me thinking about directory things, specifically about my thoughts on how to run auditions. There's a lot of etiquette swirling around audition processes which sometimes make it tough, especially for a novice director, to figure out the best way to conduct them to get all the information they need and work things out properly with their actors. Here are some thoughts on how to do it well.

I have a preference for efficient auditions. Some directors like to have people read for all sorts of things just to see what comes of it. It's how I ran my Hamlet auditions, mostly because at the time I was inexperienced enough that I wasn't sure what else to do. I will say that since I didn't know most of the people I saw it gave me some ideas, but ultimately I think it was too much screwing around for too little useful information. So now I try to have people read only a few roles that I would actually consider them for, plus one or two roles that they would like to read. People can surprise you, you must always be wary of pigeonholing them too much, so I like to give them a chance to to impress me with something I may not necessarily have expected. I have the mixed blessing of the fact that I have a very good eye when it comes to quickly sizing something up, which allows me to get a pretty good picture very quickly, but I really don't have a very good review process once I've hit on my initial conclusion. So when I'm right, I'm right, and when I'm wrong, I am dead wrong. Letting people read for a role they want to try for is my way of combating that, and of balancing efficiency with fairness.

The traditional operational form, I think, tends toward keeping things opaque throughout-- not letting the actors know what you're thinking, or doing anything that could compromise your apparent objectivity. Many directors are rightly concerned with maintaining as fair a process as possible, giving everyone who comes out the same chance and the same opportunities, and not making it seem like they are giving anyone any preference, advantage, or disadvantage. It's also good for keeping people from getting wrong ideas about what's going to happen. The opaque, totally egalitarian process is also the most polite way to handle an auditioner that you're pretty sure you don't want to cast. That happens sometimes, unfortunately, that maybe you just don't like the person's style, or maybe it's something out of their control, like you need someone with a deeper voice or a person who's strong enough to pick up another-- that last sounds odd, but I did a show where that had to be considered. So what you do is you listen intently to their piece, giving them as much a chance to prove you wrong as you possibly can, without giving any indication of your opinion. It's also sometimes a good idea to ask them "Can you do it a little angrier?" or something just to make absolutely sure you haven't made a mistake. But the point is you show them the respect of not dismissing them out of hand while still not wasting too much time. At least then they don't leave thinking they didn't get a fair shot, or automatically conclude that they sucked.

The problem with this, however, is that this Chinese Wall approach discourages honest communication between all parties that could lead to workings things out better for everyone. The more I direct, the more inclined I become to a more transparent audition process, more so the more I know the people trying out. I'd rather tell people what I want and see if they can give it to me. I know as an actor I would rather have a director say, "You know, Phoebe, you're reading is too serious, we want a lighter interpretation of the character, can you do that?" or "This is feeling a lot like how you did Puck, and we don't want that for this role. Could you change it up?" and give me a chance to change what I'm doing to something more like what they want, rather than have them silently conclude that I CAN'T do it just because I'm currently not. Some directors feel like they shouldn't say that sort of thing, but I think it makes you more likely to see the real situation-- if an actor actually does have it in them, or if they're probably not going to be able to give you what you want after all.

The Merely Players tryout was completely transparent. I didn't have a single person come out whose acting I wasn't already familiar with, or would have been unhappy to have in the cast. I asked everyone who they wanted to play, and in return told them what I was thinking, explaining what I hoped to see from them. I made my preconceived notions obvious from the start, and invited responses and opinions. The final decision was of course up to me, but I wanted to see how people felt about my intentions and whether or not they could give me what I would ask for, because that would influence the roles they accepted. I even said things like, "I'd like to use you, but know that if you're a significant part in Margaret or too many other shows I won't cast you," so that they could make an informed choice and I wouldn't have to replace an actor I picked but couldn't end up using. It allowed me to get a cast I was satisfied with while still making the show as practically functional as possible.

You can blend the two styles, but it's tricky and requires judgment. Sometimes it can benefit you to be more open with one person than with another-- if, for example, you want to make someone you have a working relationship with aware that you want to push them out of their comfort zone, but also show respect to someone you know you're not going to cast. But you need to make sure that rumors don't get spread that might lead to resentment or assumptions of bias. Make it clear in that case that you've taken someone into your confidence for the sake of getting the best fit for roles, and that they are not to make assumptions or consider anything promised or definite until the cast list comes out.

And I know some actors go into auditions with prejudices and preconceived notions of their own about how the process should go. To that I say, respond to your director as much as you can. If they ask you change your performance, do the best you can to make the change, even if it's outside your comfort zone. Do your best to give them what they want. If they ask you a reasonable question that is actually helpful to their casting process, answer it honestly even if it doesn't conform to your notion of how auditions traditionally go. You have no idea how frustrating it was to me when I asked an actor what they wanted, and they refused to answer for ages because they had a sense that it was not appropriate to "make demands during casting." The answer would have helped me, and I was explicitly giving permission!

So, yeah, just some thoughts from my experience and preferences. Others of you who go to theater auditions, or have had the chance to hold them, what do you all think? What do you think works best?

I got the role of Irene Adler!

I just got the call from the director of Sherlock Holmes: The Final Problem, offering me the role of Irene Adler, and I was delighted to accept!

As I mentioned, I felt really good about my audition, better than I had in some time. I have to say, I almost didn't go to the initial one. I was feeling REALLY emotionally up and down on Monday, and when I got home from work and saw  the audition on my calendar I really wasn't feeling up to it. I started psyching myself out over the fact that the description for the only character I was even vaguely appropriate for, Irene Adler, called for a slightly older woman, and said, "British accent preferred but not required." I grumbled a little over that last bit, as I know from the Holmes stories that Irene was an American. My British accent is pretty weak, and I certainly couldn't sustain it over the course of the play, so I started convincing myself it was a hopeless cause. But Jared encouraged me to try anyway, telling me what I already knew-- that you never get anywhere if you don't try and put yourself out there. Well, I could always say if they called me on it that Irene was American, and I guess I wouldn't be any worse off than I was before. And I'm so glad I did, because as I said, I felt so good about the reading I gave!

Later in the same day that I posted that, I got an email from the producer asking if I could return for the second night of auditions, no problem if I couldn't because it was short notice, but they liked my reading and wanted to hear me again. I didn't want to announce it in case it didn't come to anything, but damn, did that feel encouraging! I really wanted to convey my interest, so I left ballet early on Tuesday and rushed over to the Natick Center for the Arts to catch the last half-hour of the second night of tryouts.

On the way over, I really worked myself up with nerves. These were open auditions, which meant that anybody could show up without an appointment. There could be somebody who showed up that night that they liked better. I really shouldn't get my hopes up. I was getting very tense by the time I showed up, but I took a deep breath and slipped in.

One thing that was consistent both nights were the sorts of actors present. The men were all older than me, in their thirties and forties and maybe beyond. And they were all pretty uniformly good actors who were all capable of respectable British accents. There wasn't a single one of them that I didn't think gave a decent audition. There were fewer women, some of them closer to my age, but still I was the youngest one there. I have a hunch that the British accent thing probably scared a lot of them off. I remember when I played Diamond Geezers, those of us willing to give the ridiculous Cockney accents a try seemed to be much more comfortable speaking and participating in the game, and this reminded me a lot of that. There were a few that gave decent readings, but even on the second night when I was more nervous--  I had more assurance but also more to lose --I still felt that I looked like the front runner. I say that not to make myself look good, honestly I think the competition would have been a lot stiffer I'd been a man. They asked me to project more, that note I've gotten in every show I've ever done, and if I could perform without my glasses on, which I also make a point of every show. I went home hopeful, but terrified of getting my hopes up.

I got the call tonight offering me the part when I was visiting at Albion and gratefully accepted. I am so excited. I've been itching like mad to act again for quite some time now, so I imagine this is going to help a great deal with my feeling of creative restlessness. I've also not had a real lead for several years, not since Puck when I was a senior. Moreover, it will be nice to play a woman for once! Cordelia in King Lear when I was a junior was literally the only female part I've had in my entire adult acting career. One thing I've always been a little concerned about was whether my acting wasn't quite as fully realized as it could have been because I've so often have to worry about pulling on the additional layer of playing masculinity. This is something I can really sink my teeth into, really throw myself into the development of a performance for. And I'm really grateful to Jared for being supportive and encouraging me to get over my doubts.

The show will be going up Friday and Saturday, June 1, 2, 8, and 9 at 8:00 pm and Sunday June 3 and 10 at 2:00 pm in Natick. I hope you'll all join more for my triumphant return to the legitimate stage. :-)

Touch boundaries

I was in an audition situation recently where I had to do an emotional scene with a partner who I felt was a strong, cooperative actor. As the scene reached its emotional point, he put his arm around me for emphasis. I didn't know this guy at all, and normally, I would not choose to allow a stranger to touch me like that, especially by presumption. But in the context of the scene we were doing, a scene meant to impress the directors with our performances, I was fine with him doing it and in fact kind of glad that he was willing to make that effort despite the boldness it required. It made the interaction feel more complete, more real.

I believe in absolute bodily autonomy. There is no "fair play" when it comes to your physical boundaries, you have the right to say at every minute on every occasion whether or not a touch of any kind is acceptable to you. But sometimes I wish it were more acceptable in our culture to be casually physical. Our culture has kind of decided that unless you are quite young, closely related, or necessarily both, touch is an indicator of romantic connection or sexual interest rather than part of the way human beings are naturally inclined to interact with each other. And if you don't want to convey either of those things, your safest bet is to just not touch somebody. I often find myself feeling resistant to making or accepting physical contact for reasons other than because contact is unwelcome. I worry that I will come off as boundary crossing, or indicating an interest that does exist, or inappropriate because of my current romantic status. (I also worry that if I allow some people to touch me others I'm less comfortable with will think they can do the same, though that's another issue entirely.)

That bugs me because it's a cultural notion that I don't want to have to deal with. I don't like the idea that my actions are limited because people will make assumptions about those actions that are incorrect. I don't like the idea that there's something to be automatically on guard against as far as touch is concerned, because that's not part of normal human interaction and it always means an intrusion or an advance. Again, I'm not suggesting that people should have to get more comfortable with touch. I'm just wishing certain views and attitudes that contribute to people not being comfortable with touch were not part of our collective culture.

I remember in my run of The Prince Comes of Age, I had interactions with Calliope Desenberg, for whom it was her first larp. Not only was I impressed by her willingness to throw herself in despite her inexperience, but also by how she would take my hand when she spoke to me. It was gutsy and real and made the experience of roleplaying with her stronger. Her lack of fear in that area made me wish that I did the same thing more often.

Touch is healthy. It's one of the reasons massage can be healing; even laying your hand on someone encourages blood flow to that area, which can speed recovery and cleansing. Babies who aren't held and touched enough don't develop normally, it's such an important part of their formative period. People who don't experience some kind of physical contact on a regular basis, even something as simple as handshakes or pats on the shoulder, are much more prone to physical unwellness. I don't really like the notion that the optimum state of affairs is that we all have a bubble around us that it is necessarily creepy and wrong to move out of. I've heard that in some circles even tapping someone on the shoulder without permission is considered inappropriate, and yes, while everyone has the right to totally determine their own boundaries and I'm never going to tell someone who feels that way that they can't choose that if they want to, way to operate off the assumption that all touch is a potential violation and an unnatural interaction between human beings.

But at the same time, I am glad that we have the notion that touch can be an intrusive thing and you are not allowed to just go around touching whoever you want. Forget the creepier and more dangerous manifestations of being who do not respect boundaries; there are definitely casual huggers I know who I wish would cut it out, to which my reaction tends to be, "We don't have this kind of relationship." It's not that I think they're so wrong or inappropriate for being that way, I just don't really want to participate in it. I should have that right, as much as the no-shoulder-tapping person should so that they feel physically safe. But I do wish people formed their personal preferences based on their comfort rather than from the influence of weird social pressures that may not necessarily reflect the truth.

Auditioning well is its own reward

Had a couple of auditions last night, and whatever happens I am pleased with how I did. One was for a Sherlock Holmes play based on a combination of several stories with a little artistic license. It wasn't the most artfully constructed play in the world and didn't demonstrate what I'd consider to be a very strong understanding of Holmes, but it looked interesting and I've always liked the subject matter so I figured why not. I almost didn't do it because the information said it was looking for people who can do British accents, and mine isn't that good, but the only role I was appropriate for was that of Irene Adler, who is actually an American, so I decided to give it a shot. I've gotten twitchy about tryouts after so much disappointment recently, but lo and behold, I actually think it was the best audition I've given in recent memory. Not that it's a contest per se, but I'm certain I was better than the other women I saw read. Even if I don't get that role, which I probably won't, I think I earned it, which I am determined to feel good about.

The second audition was for an audio drama produced by the Post-Meridian Radio Players, the group that did Mask of Inanna and is closely associated with Theatre@First with whom Jared has done As You Like It and Pride and Prejudice. I read a lot of different parts and endeavored to deliver a different performance for each of them, which I think I managed to do. I also was pleasantly surprised to run into Neil Marsh, the very nice gentleman who came by to help Bernie and I with tips on how to proceed with recording Tailor. So overall it was a very positive experience and again, even if I don't get cast, I feel good about what I did. That feeling will help me stay encouraged to keep trying, which is the only way I'll ever get anywhere.

Salmon in a nut and balsamic crust

Lately I've been so busy that my cooking has been uncreative and repetitive, so much so that it hasn't been really worth writing about here. I mean, I'm proud of myself for even making time for it at all, but I have reached the point in developing my skill that I should be trying to push the envelope a little more rather than making the same old things over and over. This Saturday I cooked one of the few original dishes I've ever come up with, and I was pleased enough with the results that I want to share it with you now.

I've developed a taste for marcona almonds ever since my mother introduced me to them last Christmas. The good ones are sweet and oily and I've discovered recently you can buy decent ones at Hannaford. Jared and I eat a lot of fish, so the other day when I was trying to think of a new way to prepare a quick fish dinner I decided to use the almonds. I put them in a pie plate with some pecans and smashed them up with a mallet. Then I mixed them with panko, those extra-crispy Japanese breadcrumbs, and laid the stuff out over the top of a big fillet of pollock. I poured some melted butter over the top, baked it for eight minutes at 400 degrees, and got a delicious crusted whitefish dinner.

That was tasty, but that's not the recipe I wanted to share. I had a lot of the crushed nut and panko mixture left over, so the next night I decided to take it a step further. I bought a nice thick slice of salmon fillet to get a different sort of flavor than the pollock. I covered it with the nut and crumb mixture just as before, but then I got out a skillet and melted three tablespoons of butter in it. When the butter was browned and foamy, I poured in about half a cup of balsamic vinegar, mixed it up, and let it reduce until it started to get thick. Then I poured it over the crusted salmon. In a 400 degree oven this time it took about twelve minutes, but it depends on the thickness of the piece of fish you're cooking. This, friends, was even more delicious than the version before. I am really proud of this idea, and I think I matched the salmon and the balsamic well. I want to come up with more original dishes, which will only happen if I can manage to get myself planning ahead a little bit more.

How does anybody ever get a play put on?

This weekend I made a point of looking up as many theaters that accept open script submissions that I could find. I sent out a bunch of things, and am planning on sending out several more. I'm fairly pessimistic about whether anything will come of it, but at the moment it's all I really know to do right now.

I hear of classmates of mine getting productions here and there, and I don't understand how they do it. Do they know people? Are they just luckier? I hope so, because the alternative is to think that I'm just not good enough and they're all so much better than me. I really really don't want to believe that.

I have a lot of moments where I can't quit thinking that nothing's ever going to come of my writing. That I'm wasting two years and putting myself in debt for a degree that's never going to get me anywhere. But it's what I want, and the alternative is not really making me happy, so I guess I just need to keep working on making it happen. Guess I just wish I knew it would pay off eventually. I could struggle forever if I was sure that it was getting me somewhere, but it's hard to keep going when you're not at all sure your effort isn't ultimately going to come to nothing. Positive thinking has never been my strong suit, but I resolved this Lent to try to do more of it. That's why I'm trying to take positive actions, because sometimes you can control how you act a lot more easily than you can control how you think.

I am beginning to want more and more to just do it myself. To start my own theater company where I can act and write as I please. I'm tired of waiting around for other people to decide whether or not I'm allowed. I'm not sure if this is a crazy idea, as it probably takes a lot more capital than I have free to get something like that going, but I hate being at the mercy of other people. You guys all know that I am much more inclined to do all the work myself if it gets me what I want rather than wait around for somebody else's permission. Unfortunately I'm not sure if this is just plain too far outside my means to handle under my own power.

Forty-class ballet report

Okay, so I'm not quite at forty yet. According to my calendar, last night marked my thirty-ninth ballet class since I started in September. I have missed classes here and there for other commitments, but by and large I have made it a point to go to every Tuesday and Thursday nights for the beginner course, and I have been enjoying it.

In the last couple of weeks, I think I can finally say I have observed real improvement. For one thing, my teachers do not automatically say "Drop your shoulders," every time they look at me, which was a real problem I'd been having. My ballet arms struck me as incredibly ugly for the longest time, but now when I look at myself in the mirror they seem to look a lot more like they're supposed to. Also, the nature of the critiques I've been getting has grown more particular. You know when your teacher's comments get increasingly nitpicky that you're making forward progress and doing a better job. I am really pleased by this, as this is something I would really love to develop proficiency in. Especially since when I started I had a hard time feeling how the way my body was working didn't conform to what it was supposed to be doing.

Here's an example. I have always had good turnout, apparently, as I received several compliments on it right away and continue to do so. I suspect it has to do with the fact that turnout comes from the outward rotation of the hips, and my hips are far and away the most flexible part of my body. The only factor limiting my turnout is, no surprise, my knees, which are conversely the tightest and least flexible. Still, I'd been feeling slightly off, especially since I think that even though I can do turnout right, it was making my feet become pronated. Nobody's said anything about it, so maybe it's not that bad, but I can feel my feet slightly rolling towards my ankle. But recently something clicked for me that I think helped me do better. We had a substitute teacher one week from another studio, and I don't remember exactly what it was that she said, but with her I suddenly grasped that if I made a point of lifting my hips, I would bring my weight more directly over my legs rather than allowing it to pull back against them. That lack of pulling back took a lot of the pressure off my knees when turned out, which caused my feet to pronate in order to maintain balance. Making that posture change helped enormously, soothing my knees and easing the pronation, and I am working to maintain it as I dance.

Of course my technique is still beginner-baby-lame. My biggest challenges now mostly boil down to the fact that while I'm relatively fit, I am just not strong enough to always manipulate my muscles properly. Ballet takes an enormous amount of strength to constantly maintain correct position and balance as you go through the movements, and I'm just not there yet. I often end up with twitchy muscles the next day, like the maddening little flurry that won't get out of my kneecap right now. At least it's encouraging me to stretch more, and that not only helps my dancing but also my daily comfort; my tight knees really do plague me. But the more tired I get, the more wobbly or floppy I become. I should be practicing more. To that end, I have a weird idea that I'm going to see if I can put into action.

One problem with practicing ballet is that you need the right surface to do it on so your shoes slide right over it. I try to go to the dance studio in Gosman when I can, but it's usually occupied. So I have a weird little idea that I'm not sure is going to work but I kind of want to try it anyway. I noticed in the dollar store that you can buy cheap, approximately one foot square linoleum tiles that you can lay on your own. I think they're self-adhesive. Probably not the best thing you can use for flooring, but designed for a budget, and smooth enough to slide over. I want to buy a bunch of them, stick them to a big sturdy piece of cloth, and see if I can make a smooth mini-ballet surface I can lay out when I want to practice and fold up like a game board when I want to put it away. It would have to be small, which means I would only be able to do stationary stuff on it, but that's better than no practice at all, and I could use it whenever I felt like practicing. Again, who knows if that will work, but it wouldn't be a big investment of time or resources, so it's worth a try. It would likely encourage me to work at ballet more.

This is my current favorite image of ballet. You go, bear. Best pas de deux ever.

Imperium on my mind

Yowza. Pretty mentally drained since the weekend of Intercon and Titus, and have not been productive for days. I think I have finally caught up on sleep enough to get things done again. Still, in my three days of uselessness I had some lovely social time, first recording nennivian* for Tailor, then nice dinners with Plesser and then with niobien* and Ben. At this point my week's entertaining budget for both money and time is exhausted, so it's time to buckle back down to work. I am very nearly done with my screenwriting assignment that is due on Monday, but still have a lot to do for sci fi and fantasy, which is due the following Saturday.

Unfortunately, since going to Intercon and having a blast and having Festival coming swiftly upon us, my resolve to not write larps while I should be writing film and theater is weakening fast. While watching Titus it occurred to me for the first time that Shakespeare did not base the characters or story off of anything historical, which is the same thing I want to do in Imperium, my ancient Roman larp. And while rest assured, I am not going to be including anything like children being baked in a pie or women with their hands and tongues being cut out, I must confess that the show got me thinking about some stuff that I could use as plots in that larp. I've been writing those thoughts down so as to have a record of them for later, but I have not yet actively devoted time or effort to devising this game. Still, I am feeling more inspired on it than I am on other projects right now, so the temptation is strong. Last night I consulted Ben, who is a classics major, on the proper naming for a certain character's son, and on the plausibility for a particular setup in the world's history. So I've got some thoughts going.

Roughly the story will be set in the same scenario as the beginning of I, Claudius-- the civil wars in Rome have just been ended by a man who has just been given the newly-created position of Emperor. But while I will have a number of characters, PC and NPC, who are analogues to the important figures of that time period, I will be changing what they were like or what they did so that people aren't spoiled by their knowledge of history. I would like the game to be on the large side, with at least twenty characters but preferably closer to thirty if I can manage it. I am also endeavoring, despite the social limitations of the period, to generate ideas for lots of interesting active, female characters, which so far I am succeeding with. The game will be largely interpersonal and roleplay based, but I would also like to have a wargame mechanic representing the campaigns that were such a huge part of Roman culture and society. Not sure how it will work yet, that I'll have to do some research and thinking on.

Damn. I think I can't bullshit that I'm not breaking my rule anymore.

Intercon L con report

Back from Intercon L, and although I am utterly exhausted, it was a heck of a lot of fun getting that way. I didn't prepare for the unusual schedule as well as I should have-- I'd stayed late to see the Titus naked tech on Wednesday, and I'd had two days this week when I woke up in the middle of the night and couldn't get back to sleep, so I went in with less reserve than I usually did. But even if I couldn't stay up late, I was determined to enjoy this special once-a-year occasion as much as I possibly could. Ahead is my non-spoilery review!

Friday night jhite1230* and I arrived at the con about an hour and a half in advance of games, allowing us to connect with Seamus, who was one of our gracious roommates, socialize a little, and prepare. Jared ran off to meet in their game space for House of the Rising Sun. I socialized a bit and dressed in the hotel room to play Ariadne in Feast of the Minotaur. I must mention again how much I love this dress and how pretty I felt in it. It's a brand-new couture piece I bought on eBay for a fraction of its retail price, made of this luxurious crinkled velvet and washed silk straps in a gorgeous berry color. It's rare that I get a pretty princess role, and I've been feeling like such a frump lately, so I really wanted to look good for this role, and I think I succeeded. Thanks to for taking this picture:

I bought some sea shell necklaces to wear around my neck and maybe like a circlet in my hair, but I decided I looked better without them. Showing cleavage is not my preferred form of sexy dressing, but given the style of the dress I figured what the hell, just this once. Might as well enjoy the one benefit of gaining weight. However, I discovered a dress that's held on only with tied ribbons is not the most stable, and I found myself adjusting it to preserve good taste quite a bit. I should probably look into some body tape for next time I wear it. I decided to wear my beloved Bast sandals with it, and was pleased that they remained comfortable for the entirety of the game. I must have gotten twenty compliments on the look and felt very good.

The game itself was wonderful, but in a very strange way. As I mentioned, when I read my character sheet there was next to nothing in it. Some personality, very little plot. I heard other players found the same in theirs. But when we got into game, it took a little digging and faking it until we made it, but there was quite a bit of plot that existed in the world-- it's just that very little of it got into the character sheets. It helped that it was very strongly based in Greek mythology that, being geeks, we were all pretty familiar with. But I had a wonderful time, particularly interacting with the other excellent larpers, without whom the game would not have worked at all-- it takes active, creating player to dig up plot out of the ether like that. Highlights included offside7* and a new larper named Kelly Morgan as my sisters who gave me dramatic conflict and support at the same time, morethings5* who had a note-perfect transformation partway through the game that would have been awesome if only for the look he gave me at one point, and Alex Pogue as my Theseus who made the romance plot so interesting and fun. There was also a particular twist that I thought was a very clever way to get a crucial element into the game. I got the feeling there were a handful of characters who didn't have enough to do, but for the most part the nebulous plot was available for everyone to seize on to. Still, if it were up to me I think that plot really needs to get put into sheets. I don't know if it was a stylistic choice or if the writers just ran out of time and had to fill the sheets with something. I highly recommend this in its current state, if only on the condition that you are an active, independent player, but I can honestly say this is the most enjoyable game I've ever played for which I would still recommend a total character sheet rewrite.

The other other game I played was as Irene Adler in An Evening Aboard the HMS Eden. I put together a costume I was very pleased with relatively inexpensively, including a thrift store prom dress with a corsety-looking bodice, a gauzy black blouse beneath it to give it sleeves, and a wide Kentucky Derby bonnet with ostrich feathers on it. But I'm sorry to say I was quite disappointed by this game. It had a very fun theme/set dressing, but the writing was, at least in my part of it, pretty lackluster. As I said to some people after the game, all the direction I had was ticky-box goals-- what boiled down to "Okay, go ring that bell over there!" and once you've run over and rung it, you're unsatisfied because there's no reason to have wanted it nor anything interesting that comes of it. Join that club that doesn't do anything, buy a bigger airship that you can't actually use in game, cure this disease that doesn't have any in-game effects so why waste the time, that sort of thing. The only things in my sheet that were like actual plots, the mystery of what was going on with my sister and what the deal with this item I had was, no one seemed to know anything about so I made no progress on them. Not everyone seemed to have unengaging plots, Jared had a pretty good time and a number of people seemed about to stay busy, but I got the impression that around a third to a half the game was in the same situation I was. It was just very amateurish larp-writing, and though the GMs I asked for help didn't really managed to point me in any useful direction, I will give the gentlemen credit for trying really, really hard. I worry I came across as a difficult player, for which I'm sorry, but I think I failed to convey, no, I don't want another ticky-box to check off, I want a plot thread, but given the writing in the game they may not have been able to understand the difference. I will be hesitant to sign up for any game by these authors again.

Last thing I did this weekend was help natbudin*, emp42ress*, and simplewordsmith* run our game Resonance. By this point I was draggy and tired, but fortunately this run of Resonance mostly ran itself. We had a very good group of players who bought fully into the concept and were happy to ride the rails of the story we'd laid out. This game relies heavily on that willingness in order to work. We also implemented a new device in the third act to see if we could convince players to play it out the way we'd intended. In the first run, the third act didn't happen like it was supposed to at all, so we tried a subtle restructuring. It mostly worked if not entirely in the second run, and didn't really work at all in the third. So this time we basically put in a plot hammer. The hammer made it so the players had no choice but to do what we wanted them to. I think the players were fine with it, but seeing it in action I've decided from a writer's standpoint that I do not like the particular technique we chose. It is a kludge, and it's slightly off-tone in my opinion, but I will say that it works and players are okay with it, so ultimately it's an acceptable mechanism. I prefer the subtler one we implemented for the second and third runs, and I'm not really sure why it didn't work, but the fact of the matter is it didn't.

Also, one of my fellow GMs Danielle pointed out how susceptible this game is to becoming derailed by issues of Maslow's heirarchy of needs. We want the players to be thinking of higher-order issues, that's what the story's about, but the game's setting suggests threats to safety and physical well-being that human nature tends to want to attend to first because you can't do anything if you're dead. We need those threats to exist in a vague sense to maintain the atmosphere, but we really need to manage how pressing they are so as not to distract players from the real, emotional issues we want them to explore. We struck a good balance in this run, but I remember how previous runs have been stalled simply by questions of "But will we be safe if we do X?" that resulted in a reluctance to move forward into the unknown.

I left early on Sunday to catch the last show of Titus, which I'm glad I did, but still, I was sorry I couldn't spend more time socializing. Intercon is one of the most important moments of my year, and I love how it surrounds you with creative, interesting people. I was happy to hear that Jared and EB's game House of the Rising Sun ran great, as did The Prince Comes of Age by Kindness, Matt, and Bernie. Congratulations to everyone who brought their artistic labors, and thanks to everyone who helped make this con so wonderful.

Short fiction I wrote for scifi/fantasy class

I wrote this short piece for my science fiction and fantasy study for an assignment called "What if?" I had to pick a fantastical scenario and then ponder the implications of it. I thoroughly misunderstood the format of the assignment because I'm a dumbass, but at least I got a little bit of half-decent writing out of it. I got the idea from a fan fic I read years ago. This was hastily put together, but maybe with some polishing it wouldn't suck. I figured I'd post it regardless.

Nobody so far has gotten the vocal similarity thing. It's also technically a reference to that old fan fic. Honestly it was funnier and clearer in the original context, but whatever. I do like the Count Orlock bit, though.

  Her guts went cold when the shadow fell over her. Her hair blew out behind her with every beat of the wings. Then, as the creature descended, out stretched the wicked claws, reaching to close around her.

  She screamed until she thought her lungs would burst.

  “CUT!” Roddy bellowed. “Cut! Beautiful, Lydia! That’s the one we’ll print, you’ll see!”

  The claws pulled away as Odo stepped back. He smiled at her, a pleasant smile except for the mouthful of long white fangs.

  “Well done, Lydia! The look in your eyes was just perfect. Very realistic!” He had a wonderful voice, charmingly accented and strangely familiar, in sharp contrast to the alien weirdness of the rest of him.

  “Ah. Yeah.” She sucked in a deep breath to steady herself. “Thanks, Odo, I… thanks.”

  He gave her a friendly nod and turned to talk with Roddy about the scene. Lydia stood there a moment longer, gasping and gaping at the sight of her unusual costar. Claws, teeth, and ivory horns, enormous batwings, leathery skin covered with pebbled scales, corded muscle along long limbs and a coiling, twisting tail. He looked like he should be crouching over a crenellation on the roof of a gothic cathedral.

  She was yanked back to reality by Brett the makeup man appearing at her side, taking a hold of her chin and regarding her face critically. After a moment he began dabbing at her with a long-handled brush.

  “Hmmm, you’re a lot easier to work on when you have a blank expression of terror.”

  Lydia blushed. “It’s not terror! It’s just… surprise.”

  “Sure. It’s not like I blame you. I take it you’ve never met one before.”

  “A movie monster who’s not a man in a suit? No, never have.” She paused, searching for words that wouldn’t make her sound like a jerk. “It’s… pretty intense.”

  “No kidding.” Brett grinned. “Why do you think they want to shoot the scenes where you were screaming your head off right after you first met him? They didn’t want to give the shock a chance to wear off.”

  “I guess that makes sense.”

  She clammed up suddenly when she saw Odo was coming back over, striding across the set on oversized taloned feet. He inclined his head, the light running sleekly over his horns.

  “Ready when you are, miss.”

  Again she found herself stumbling over her tongue. “Oh, sure. Just— just a second and I’ll be, well, I’ll be…”

  Brett rolled his eyes. “You’ll have to forgive her, Odo, she’s lived a sheltered life up to this point.” He patted her cheek and moved off to attend to other smudged actors.

  The monster, however, just chuckled at her. Even his laugh sounded weirdly familiar. “Understandable. I guess we don’t show up much.”

  She swallowed hard and tried to collect herself. “How did… how did you get into the movie business?”

  He cocked his head thoughtfully, a disconcertingly human gesture of consideration. “Well, I’d always dreamed of being an actor. But of course the right role for fellows like me doesn’t come along very often. At first the only work I could find was as a stagehand, moving heavy sets and props and such around. Sometimes they had me handle some aerial photography. But fortunately there’s always eventually a need for something scary to crawl out of some pit or other.” He smiled again with all those terrible teeth.

  “And that’s how you started acting?”

  “That’s it. Not the most glamorous stuff, but like most working actors, I had to start off small. I don’t suppose you saw a sophisticated little piece by the name of Beast of Mars?”

  “Never heard of it.”

  “I’m not surprised. It wasn’t much more than a B-movie. But it does have the distinguishment of being my first title role.”

  His demeanor was friendly enough that she was beginning to feel more at ease. She found herself comfortable enough to ask what was bothering her. “But why keep it a secret from everybody?”

  He sighed, as if it were something that had weighed on him for some time. “It’s all part of the magic of the movies. Filmmakers look a lot cleverer when the public thinks it was their visionary work that made all those fantastic visual effects come to life.”

  She considered that, a little thrown. Odo went on. “Remember that John Malkovich movie, Shadow of the Vampire?”

  “Oh, yeah. The one about how Count Orlok in Nosferatu was played by a real… oh, my God. Was he?”

  “To be sure. That film was… sort of a test, in a way. It was to see how people would react to the idea, to see if they would find it intriguing or off-putting.”

  “What went wrong? I thought people liked that movie.”

  Odo clicked his enormous teeth together in a surprisingly delicate gesture. “That wasn’t the problem. Do you happen to remember what happened at the end?”

  “You mean… where Shreck eats everyone?”

  “Yes, well… that wasn’t a dramatization, so much.”

  She grimaced. “Ah.” Sudden fear struck her, and she couldn’t help but look at him with eyes the size of saucers.

  He understood immediately and was quick to reassure her. “An isolated incident, I promise you! Most of us in the business have more manners than that! I myself am a vegetarian, if that helps at all.”

  A vegetarian? Well, that was… something at least. She exhaled slowly and nodded, trying to look comforted.

  Odo cleared his throat. “Anyway, after that, it didn’t seem like such a good idea to tell the public just how real things were.”

  “I can see that. You know… Odo… there’s just one thing I can’t get over.” She paused, feeling awkward, but pressed on. “It’s your voice. You know, you sound just like—”

  Good-naturedly he laughed. “Yes, good ear. Not everyone notices, you know.”

  “Why… why is that?”

  “Well, it just so happens he’s an old friend of mine. Wonderful fellow, good-looking, and a terrific actor of course. Back when he was just starting out, the only trouble was, well, he really hasn’t got much of a voice. Squeaky, high-pitched, a real shame in someone so talented. They so wanted to use him, but the voice was a real problem. I was on the crew at the time and looking for acting work, and well, serendipity seems to have struck.”

  She gaped at him. “So that was your voice all that time?”

  “In every picture! I’ve been overdubbing his lines ever since.” He glanced over his shoulder, shifting his wings out of the way. “But it seems we’re ready to begin again.” He gestured with his broad claw. “Shall we?”

  “Well… I guess so!” With another deep breath, she returned to her position of crouched cowering, and gave her scream everything she had.

Old lady sweater

I recently thrifted a sweater that I've been wearing quite a lot lately, but despite that it's not in my usual style and I'm not sure how I feel abut it.

I do not normally wear long sweater coats, particularly of this shape, but I was drawn to it to use as a warm over-layer. It's actually a very high-quality piece, BCBGMaxAzria in a hundred percent lambswool that isn't itchy at all. It's also got unusual horizontal seams on the middle of the back and the elbows that spread out into triangles on either side.

I've been wearing it a lot lately because it's warm and easy to thrown on over whatever else I've got on. Trouble is, I feel kind of schlubby in it and that bugs me. I usually hate wearing things of a boxy shape, especially when they're oversized. Clothes that fit like that are the easiest way to make yourself seem shapeless, sloppy, or not put together, all things that I've been trying to avoid ever since I resolved to learn how to dress better. And from the back, well, let's say it doesn't make it my most flattering angle.

Looks like you could land on a plane on my ass. At least you can see the back seam better.

I never want to settle for looking like a schlub just for something that's comfortable and warm; there is always an equivalent that looks nicer that I could go for instead. I haven't been feeling terribly attractive lately, what with the weight gain and everything else, so I worry this is a sign that I'm starting to feel like what's the point, I'm not going to look that good anyway. I don't know. I go back and forth between whether I think it looks bad or whether it's a perfectly legitimate styling I'm just not used to on myself. I know it's just a stupid sweater, not exactly worth having a crisis over, but I do worry if it means I'm trying to hide myself because of not feeling pretty much lately.