Sign of the times: working in my office at home, I learned that a package had
just been left on my doorstep not when someone rang the doorbell—what an
antiquated notion—but because I got an e mail on my screen.
Mimo is molting and has once again dropped to the bottom of the pecking order.
I invited her to comment on the matter but like me this week, she was
disinclined to talk. I had a mighty cold, a preview of old age kind of
ailment, the sort of thing that makes tottering seem normal and tennis an
ancient form of dream activity. But the upside to all was that my mind decided
that the irregular hours of wakefulness were ideal for plotting. Bits and
pieces of dialog for the new play arrived also, so I kept a pad beside me
during the wee hours, but mostly it was, “let’s think about plot” week. With
good results. Writing anything is so much easier when you know what your aim
is. I seldom do. I’m very much a “smear some paint on the canvas and we’ll
see what it suggests” kind of writer. You probably knew that already.
This week the new car arrived, and went away, which is to say it’s very much
L’s heart’s desire so I haven’t seen it much and when it has been here I’ve
been in, “I’d rather sleep than look at anything” mode. But it is beautiful.
And it can apparently be trained to open garage doors or feed and water
chickens, so that’s useful. Marvelous what they can do with electronics.
Hamish is at prime bounding age, PBA. He delights in how quick and agile he
is. “Go on, chuck this ball over that bush. I’ll get it before it bounces
twice. Probably have time to chastise a squirrel before I catch it--I’m just
that fast.” You’ll have noted that he doesn’t talk much. But when he does,
it’s all youthful enthusiasm. A very positive dog who likes pretty much
everyone, even a molting Mimo.
I’m sure everyone who reads student papers for a living has noted that what is
supposed to be an educational endeavor often turns into a dance in which you
say, “Waltz” and students ask, “how many bars?” Therefore I should like the
public record to show that this week I read a good set of papers, by which I
mean a set in which everyone did the task to the best of his or her ability and
actually tried to do what writers do—explain, evoke, not waste the reader’s
time. Much. (I had to add that because I’m sure you feel I sometimes waste
yours). My favorite opening line—the paper was about how to think about art
and history—is this, “I am told there is no higher contrast than that of red
blood on white snow.” You’d want to read the next line, wouldn’t you? The
paper was titled, “The Jack and Jill of Time.” I wish I could tell you more,
but I don’t think that would be right.
The next performance of, “Existence and a Pig” has yet another cast, which
means getting a fresh actor to understand how the play goes. I’m looking
forward to seeing what this cast does with the words. December 7 if you find
yourself hereabouts. Meanwhile, Happy Thanksgiving to all.
David Ritchie,
Portland,
Oregon------------------------------------------------------------------
To change your Lit-Ideas settings (subscribe/unsub, vacation on/off,
digest on/off), visit www.andreas.com/faq-lit-ideas.html
