Movie Talkers

Blair and I went to see Narnia (fantastic--a must see!) on Christmas Day and the theatre was packed.  Families were having to split up to find a seating and, due to one family having to do this, I ended up seated next to Bob.

I knew his name was Bob because as soon as he sat down, he offered his hand and introduced himself.  Bob from New Orleans (had some flood damage but is back in his house, just here visiting family).  Bob had a deep booming voice and infectious laugh and even though I am not typically a "greet your neighbor" type of movie goer, his good nature was hard to resist and we chatted a bit.

Then the lights dimmed.  The previews included scenes from "Pirates of the Caribbean II," "Ice Age II," and a few other animated films. 

"Oops, hey, that's great!" Bob shouted during some of the previews, turning to me and grinning.  "Hey, are we seeing a kids movie or what?  Check out all these kid previews!" he called.

Bob's booming voice was not lowered a bit.   I threw Blair a warning glance.  I rank people who talk loud during movies right up there with sloths and other lower forms of life.  If you want to talk during a movie, go to Blockbuster and rent something.  The rest of us are not interested in your running commentary.

For the most part, my fears about Bob proved unfounded.  Once or twice he made a loud remark (like at the end when the grown kids stumble across the lamppost and Bob said, "Hey now! Watch--they're gonna find their way back!") but for the most part, we were left to enjoy the movie.

I feel bad for thinking even slightly ill of Bob.  He really was a fun, nice guy.  Two little boys, around age 9, were settled into the seats beside him, separate from their parents, and Bob leaned over and said to them, "Hey!  I've got Junior Mints so we can have us some when the movie starts. What's a movie without Junior Mints?"

I think it's more of a reflection of my uprightness than it is Bob's personality.  Not that I'm wound all that tight, but I expect certain niceties such as not talking in movies to be followed and I get more upset than the situation warrants when the rules aren't followed.  I was a little tense during the most of the movie because I kept waiting for Bob to talk and ruin it for me, which is nobody's fault but my own.

So Bob, should our paths ever cross again, I'll sit beside you in the theatre and learn to relax.  Hey now--we can even share us some Junior Mints.  My treat.

Nonstop Reading - A Rediscovered Treat

I've spent the weekend reading.  I started Thursday night and so far have made it through 4 books, my favorite of which by far is Flowers for Algernon by Daniel Keyes.  The book won the Hugo Award and Nebula Award and I see why.  Absolutely brilliant.  Blair said he had to the read the book in high school but somehow it slipped under my reading radar and the only reason I picked it up is because our little local library happened to have it sitting out on a front shelf and the cover caught my attention.

I'm not reading as much as I used to.  I've kept a list on the computer since 1994 of every book I've read.  I tally up the totals at the end of the year and this year I'll finish around 62 books read, compared to last years total of 84.  It's not the the numbers are so important--quality counts as well.  But what bothers me is that being a voracious reader has always been a huge an indelible part of who I am, yet it's not something I do much of anymore.  I'm lucky now to read one book every two weeks. 

It's not that I don't read. I'm reading constantly--but it's research and magazine articles and the newspaper and online... all every different from curling up in a ball on the couch with a good book and getting lost for several hours.

I truly believe e-mail (among other things) has shortened my attention span.  As I child and teenager, I could sit for 5-6 hours straight with a book and never look up.  Now, when I start to read, I'm fidgety. I get up and make tea.  I pet the cats.  I throw in a load of laundry.  I can't sit still and just read.

Or can I?  I've avoided e-mail and the computer this weekend and my concentration appears to have rebounded.  I started reading Flowers for Algernon this morning about 6:30 AM and finished it a little after 11.  I got up once or twice and took a 30-minute break to shower, but for the most part, I sat still and read.

I think part of the problem is I'm always pushing myself to do more.  I feel guilty reading a novel for pleasure when I have articles to write, or I should be working on my own novel, or I should be reading books  on plot and character development.  Plus, it's a stretch to say I even barely keep up with local, national and world news.  There's never enough time to take in all the information.

But reading books is part of my job as a writer.  It stimulates the mind and creativity, plus I learn from how others craft their pose.  As I writer, I pay close attention to how other writers introduce their characters, use dialogue, transition a scene and build tension.  For awhile, I couldn't read a book both for pleasure and to learn from it, but now it's second nature to be taking mental notes of "hey, look how she did that!" as I read.

So I'm placing "read more for pleasure" on my goals list for the New Year.  The other good thing about getting lost in a book is it takes me away from the brain drain of TV. 

Anyone have any book suggestions for me for the New Year??

Christmas Pics

Santa decided the kitties were nice, not naughty, and rewarded them accordingly...

 Olivia didn't care about gifts, she enjoyed slapping down the paper...

Lucy says, "Check out my new red Christmas mouse!"

The stockings were hung by the chimmney with care...

And holiday cards collapsed on the floor as if they'd been flung in the air!

The tree was decorated and stood tall and bright...

And kittens on couches called out, "And to all a good night!"

Christmas Eve!

I was on the phone early this morning with my friend Trisha when her 8-year-old son woke up and stumbled into the room.  "Christmas Eve!" I heard him exclaim to her.

I remember being that excited as a child.  Every day until Christmas draaaaggged out until I was sure time was standing still.  And going to sleep knowing Santa might arrive any minute? It was probably the only night of the year I willingly raced off to bed, only to lie awake staring at the ceiling for hours.

The one thing about not having kids is that it is a little disappointing not to have that "Santa's coming!" energy in the house.  Still, every year Blair plays Santa for the cats and gets up  early to lay out presents and stuff stockings before waking me.  And oddly enough, our cats play along.  Usually we can't get them to do anything we want but they prowl around their gifts and sniff and inspect each one as we open it for them and really get into the spirit of things.

I did a book signing today at the Fat Cat and sold 7 books.  Blair got it into his head that we must have Chex Mix this holiday season, so that's cooking in the oven right now as he watches the start of the Panthers game.  Later tonight we'll head over to our neighbors for a Christmas Eve open house, then come home and open the gifts my aunt and uncle sent us and probably, knowing us, polish off the last of the Chex Mix. 

I'm not thinking of anything even remotely work-related for the next 48 hours.  Christmas is for friends and family and reflection, and also for eating mounds of Chex Mix.

Warm and happy wishes to everyone! 

(And don't forget to watch for Santa...)