• facebook,  writing

    Character blocking – less can be more

    I’m enjoying the work of reading the first Malazan book, but the prose itself, I do not like. The amount of character blocking bothers me. I get why the author does it (you can find his analyses of a scene or two online) but…it doesn’t read well for me.

    Character blocking is something most writers I know do. Including myself!

    I say “blocking” in the manner of a stage play. It is describing many small gestures of a character that doesn’t meaningfully add to a scene, or just doing it to excess. Character blocking is a broader way of describing something that is *usually* Eye Choreography.

    X looked at Y. He looked away.
    Y’s gaze cut to the ground.
    X looked at the thing, and then he looked at his sword.
    He walked to the bar with his gaze averted.

    There are two issues here.

    1) A book is less like a stage play and more like an impressionist painting you create in a reader’s mind. Broadly describing behavior will allow readers to fill in gestures themselves.

    2) Gestures don’t mean the same things to everyone. It’s unclear. I just touched a hand to my chin. What am I doing?
    Is this a thoughtful hand?
    Surprised?
    Am I messing with a blemish?
    Am I hiding the cleft in my chin?
    Maybe I’m about to say something.

    Looking at things or moving your hands or whatever can definitely be relevant, necessary scene information…sometimes. *Writing* it can also be totally necessary for *you*, the author, to work out where things are in the scene and what is happening. YOU know why the character is Looking.

    A character’s mood and physicality can be conveyed throughout the scene in MANY ways. It should form a greater picture for readers. Save specific gestures for when you wanna “zoom in.”

    In editing, I get rid of all blocking except the stuff that makes a scene *less* confusing.
    If he absolutely needs to look at the window or nobody is going to realize he’s talking about someone outside instead of inside the room, then yes! Block that. It zooms us in on that “look.”

    But remember: Gestures mean different things to different people. A lot of people can’t read body language at all, even on the page. You are adding gestures that “zoom focus” without adding more information or experience for the reader. I am exhausted constantly zooming focus on characters’ faces when their whole bodies exist and inhabit a setting.

    There are alternative beats you can use, if you want to confer a pause in dialogue (though I think you can let readers infer a lot about dialogue cadence too). I will favor beats that embody characters in their setting in meaningful ways.

    I really like beats that add *new* description to a character or setting. That breaks up big blocks of description and adds color and vivacity.

    I also like character-specific beats. One character might mess with his ear a lot. Another has antsy feet. One can’t stay sitting.

    Using character-specific beats consistently across scenes, chapters, and books helps fix a character in the reader’s mind. And the reader will bring biases about the character to fill in smaller gestures (X looking at Y, then away) as appropriate to their personality.

    In Malazan, Character Blocking is frequent. I know from reading the author’s analyses of his scenes that he does intend these lines to confer information. “By looking at the sword, Tattersail is thinking xyz.” He doesn’t actually intend for anyone to know what that means though. The author generally doesn’t care if anyone knows what he’s talking about. While I respect the attitude, I find that his reliance on blocking to express information he doesn’t care about conveying isn’t NEARLY as well-thought-out as his worldbuilding details.

    I dislike the insulting connotations of “lazy” when I mean “convenient at the expense of quality,” but lazy is the word I think reading a lot of this dialogue. Perhaps less lazy, more cursory? Like “FINE I guess people have to inhabit this world I’m writing, and they talk.”

    Likewise, I can’t say the prose on Malazan is bad when what it actually is, is that the writer and I have way different priorities. That’s all.

    I see my prose on this level as the Welcoming Center of my book. It needs to get out of the reader’s way so that my story and world can thrive. I want my language efficient and my meaning clear. I am not deliberately puzzling anyone, unless the specific intent of a scene is to puzzle, and even then, I will communicate it wholly differently.
    Efficiency of language can be so beautiful.

    Malazan is legendary for its complexity, opacity, and demands upon the reader’s patience. The world and experience of conquering the books makes this worthwhile. For my writer friends, I suggest editing out Character Blocking in draft 2 because you aren’t writing Malazan, probably. Don’t worry about the rough draft. Write whatever you have to write in the rough draft. But consider taking a scalpel into your scenes to excise all but essential blocking.

    ~

    Blocking (and especially Eye Choreography lol) is super common in some areas of fiction. It’s an instinctive thing. We’re trying to think our way through a scene and conversation and we put in unnecessary information while we work it out, which is better removed later, imo.

    A story written so minimalistically need not be dry – action and dialogue alone can still be compelling if your story is compelling. I do like to add some physicality of gesture, commentary, inner thought, etc on those things, and that’s nice too.

    A novel writing class is probably bringing some of these thoughts out because I’ve had to read Hemingway. Hemingway does not do this in his dialogue at all, and his dialogue is still effective (imo).

    Example:

    “Santiago,” the boy said to him as they climbed the bank from where the skiff was hauled up. “I could go with you again. We’ve made some money.”
    The old man had taught the boy to fish and the boy loved him.
    “No,” the old man said. “You’re with a lucky boat. Stay with them.”
    “But remember how you went eighty-seven days without fish and then we caught big ones every day for three weeks.”
    “I remember,” the old man said. “I know you did not leave me because you doubted.”
    “It was papa made me leave. I am a boy and I must obey him.”
    “I know,” the old man said. “It is quite normal.”

    Then we can look over at Gardens of the Moon by Stephen Erikson for the other end of things.

    “Are you the last left in the cadre?” he asked.
    She looked away, feeling brittle. “The last left standing. It wasn’t skill, either. Just lucky.” […] She heard Hairlock laugh, the sound of a soft jolt that made her wince. “The tall one,” she said. “He’s a mage, isn’t he?”
    Whiskeyjack grunted, then said, “His name’s Quick Ben.”
    “Not the one he was born with.”
    “No.”
    She rolled her shoulders against the weight of her cloak, momentarily easing the dull pain in her lower back. “I should know him, Sergeant. That kind of power gets noticed. He’s no novice.”
    “No,” Whiskeyjack replied. “He isn’t.”
    She felt herself getting angry. “I want an explanation. What’s happening here?”
    Whiskeyjack grimaced. “Not much, by the looks of it.” He raised his voice. “Quick Ben!”
    The mage looked over. “Some last-minute negotiations, Sergeant,” he said, flashing a white grin.
    “Hood’s Breath.” Tattersail sighed, turning away.

    That is some dialogue from the beginning of Malazan, which I personally feel is too much blocking. The information conveyed is not important and it breaks up the conversation too much, distracting from the way the conversation is meant to propel the scene.

    But again, as I said above — This is an issue of different authorial priorities. The author here think it’s important we should know that the cloak this mage is wearing is heavy in the middle of an explanation about the situation and people in the situation, and I think it’s too much.

    (I originally posted this on Facebook on 2/12/23.)

  • Diaries

    the scientist withdraws

    What kind of oddball drug tests herself periodically through withdrawal to see when the THC has cleared from her system? This oddball, right here. I got a pack of THC drug tests when I quit weed.

    These tests work the opposite from pregnancy/COVID tests: when you are negative for THC, you get two lines. So far I have only had the control line.

    15 days after quitting, I got the faintest line – meaning it detected very very little THC. This was using my most dilute sample (end of day, very well-hydrated) so I suspect I’d have zero line testing again tomorrow morning, but! I am getting there.

    Technically *any* line is a negative because these tests are qualitative (yes/no) not quantitative. Community apocrypha says you pee clean after a month, but I might get there sooner – pretty wild considering I was such a heavy user for almost a decade. But it also makes sense considering that I was cutting back the last couple months and mostly inhaling (versus edibles), which clears faster.

    I’m still expecting to have weed-related cognitive issues for months, even when it’s out of my system. I am told I could remain intermittently foggy for almost a year. Also, THC binds to fat, and I’ve stored a bunch in my adipose tissue. It can release if I lose weight or exercise hard.

    The process isn’t linear, is what I’m saying, but this is cool progress to experience.

    I told my spouse that I was drug testing myself and I was like “I know it’s really weird, but–” and he was like “No this is just you having a scientific mind, like always, and it’s why I love you.” I love him. It’s true though — any excuse I have to run tests on myself, I will do it.


    I haven’t been posting Sara Reads the Feed posts (or much else) mostly because this quitting process has totally thrown me off my groove. I’ve made mood-management, self-care, and adjusting to sobriety kinda my full-time job during this period, which is also how I got off nicotine and alcohol. It’s telling myself “this is the most important thing right now” and giving myself lots of space to Feel Stuff.

    Of everything I have quit, weed is by far the easiest on me. Alcohol was emotionally easy because FUCK THAT STUFF, it is POISON. Nicotine was the worst. The most brutal withdrawal, the most intense cravings. But I did that! I am free. It’s awesome.

    Still, here I am, babysitting myself again. Hopefully this will be the last substance abuse self-babysitting for the rest of my life. It’s funny how I feel Very Done With This but I am neither embarrassed nor regretful about what all I’ve done. That was just like…the road. You know? That is the road I was on. No hard feelings, cannabis, but we’re done now. Thank you for what we had together. Bye. Can’t wait to see two bold lines on the drug test.

  • bluesky,  facebook,  tsfka twitter

    Punxsutawny Says Spring

    Posted on 2/2/24. Facebook.

    I am so obsessed with 9yo Sunshine’s energy and confidence. I found a school paper that he graded for himself. He only spelled 2 out of 8 words correctly. He graded himself with an “F+” and then wrote “bad but still good” next to it. He can’t even fail himself without getting cheerful about it. He invented F-plus! lmao

    He’s got a little speech about how nobody is perfect, which means he cannot be perfect, but to him that seems to mean that being 70% awesome is actually 100% awesome and the other 30% is just inevitable humanity.

    I had really really awful self-esteem for most of my life. I felt absolutely radioactive until I met my spouse, and even then it took over a decade to genuinely internalize my self-worth. I don’t think Sunshine’s ever going to deal with that. It’s a massive relief, and also extremely charming.

    (I spelled perfectly at his age, fyi, and got 100% regularly, and I was an absolute wreck disaster human. I prefer bad grades from a happy kid than good grades from a miserable kid.)


    Posted on 2/3/24. Facebook.

    You know what’s funny? My older sibling tells me that I was the first in the family to “come out,” but I have zero recollection of it. Apparently I formally told my mom that I liked girls before my siblings did. (I’m the youngest.) I declared myself bisexual.

    I don’t even know that I’m bisexual now, lmao. My younger, forgotten self was so confident. I got crushes on girls and boys and That Was That.

    It was probably so unremarkable because I wasn’t afraid of my mom’s reaction. I DO remember her telling me that she would always love me, no matter who I loved. I was very young in this memory. I think we were playing with Barbies. I was probably doing something weird and gross and unselfaware, like making my mom watch two Barbies scissor. Parents know! Kids can’t hide for crap.

    This is odd to me, I guess, because my sibling is transgender and I’ve always just thought of them as The Queer One, placing them up on a rainbow pedestal in my heart. They are the one who asked for different pronouns; they are the one who made it clear their bio-sex was not just wrong, but an uncomfortable fit; they crashed against homophobia all the time just for existing. I advocate for them at the doctor’s office and step in to enforce proper pronoun usage with other people and do whatever I can to protect my sibling’s right to be themself.

    I take my own queerness for granted because I camouflage. I’ve dated women, but I’m married to someone AMAB with a beard; I married him wearing white and we made babies together. Neither of us tell anyone IRL that neither of us consider our genders to align with our sexes. Not that we’re hiding. It just seems irrelevant, and anyway, nobody seems to understand if we try to explain it. I think you can only start to grasp exactly what a gay relationship we have after spending a while with the two of us. Sometimes we are like a sapphic relationship, both of us women. Sometimes we are gay as fuck, like two dudes. We virtually never fall into m/f style roles, except by accident. Our fluid gender identities are part of our couple identity, too.

    My beloved sibling calls me Woman+ in terms of gender. I like being a woman. I am not only a woman. If gender identities could be written down like states on the map of America, my location would not be a dot like a state capital, but a blob of weather that encompasses the entire west coast with fingers across the northeastern seaboard. I am a woman in the most basic of ways, and then something happens and you’re suddenly hanging out with a Reddit neckbeard who talks like gay Dane Cook.

    I am most often a man in romantic situations with women; I’m a gay man with men; I am jarred and confused when I meet men and they treat me like a ~woman instead of a masculine peer. But in social situations with women, I’m a woman. I also definitely do not want to look androgynous. I want to look feminine, but get received as a man. I feel silly trying to explain the amorphous boundaries of my gender. Like, nobody’s even gonna take me seriously. Why bother? People don’t think my climate is even real. “All women feel like that,” say people who have no idea what I’m talking about.

    So I just don’t bother, really. I’m just Queer and that’s that. But somehow, when I was young, at a time I don’t even remember, I knew that I was bisexual enough to announce it and then forget about it, and I think that is SO INTERESTING. Some critical piece of personal history I’ve got no memory for.


    Posted on 2/5/24. Facebook.

    I’m on day 10(?) without weed. I’ve been having emotions all day and haven’t wanted to relapse. I started *really* over-using when my first cat died, so it’s a testament to the coping skills I’ve been working on.

    I’m still not very thinky. A lot of the fog from weed has passed, but my emotions are very surface and it’s taking a lot of effort to write anything that makes sense. (Which you might not be able to tell by the amount of posts I make…lol)

    The main thing I’m doing to pass the time is hanging out on sobriety support forums to talk with people. I always find congregate therapy settings valuable. I’m not doing stuff IRL right now, but online is basically as good.
    Mostly people in group therapy need validation, and peer validation is really effective. There’s really nothing so loving as a recovery group. And I’ve made it so that if I feel a craving, I just…go online and talk to people about how to manage cravings.

    I am extremely sad and crying a lot because of my cat, and all the associated feelings, but I also feel really healthy about it so that’s good I guess.

    Thank you to everyone who has been sharing love and support. It means a lot to me.

    ~

    King Charles has been diagnosed with cancer after his prostate surgery. They haven’t released details on his prognosis, but it is serious enough that his estranged son is flying out to visit.

    I think it’s interesting that this does somehow align with Nostradamus’s predictions, if you squint. Here’s the relevant quatrain, which some have read to mean King Charles:

    Because they disapproved of his divorce
    A man who later they considered unworthy
    The People will force out the King of the islands
    A Man will replace who never expected to be king

    So…if you squint.

    I don’t hold any opinion on Nostradamus because I am currently in flux (kind of in the “I have no idea what I believe about anything” place) but this has often been read to mean that Charles would be unpopular, abdicate, and someone not-William would inherit.

    Interestingly, Prince William has been saying things that indicate he *isn’t* interested in the traditional monarchy, including being head of the Church of England. But he has also shown signs he would like to take over for his father on his own terms.

    I don’t think Prince William’s personality would permit him to willingly step aside, though. There were whispered rumors of William & Kate divorcing – which would be unpopular after her hospitalization – so Nostradamus’s quatrain could also potentially apply to Wills.

    Or it could all be UTTER NONSENSE and it’s just interesting to watch history happening in real time and we could probably bend/stretch/squeeze this prophecy to fit *literally anyone*. I mean, if the new King of Denmark divorced his wife (who would probably be happy to escape the dude), this could also apply to them. yk? and the monarchy in Denmark has been “slimmed down” so I could imagine odd succession happening there.

    I truly cannot imagine a likely scenario that would lead to King Harry and Queen Meghan, but you’re going to see people talking about this a lot in the weeks to come anyway, and this quatrain is a significant reason why.


    Posted on 2/6/24. Bluesky.

    freestyling about how much i love my nebulizer while assembling a new mouthpiece

    i love my nebulizer
    love a bronchiodilator
    iprutropium bromide for
    making me breathe more
    yeah
    take my albuterol now
    like i’m a boss who breathes now
    yeah

    …sorry i’ll stop


    Posted on 2/8/24. TSFKA Twitter.

    i wasn’t going to see dune 2 in the theater because i’m a fussy bitch about splitting movies into episodes released years apart (how dare). but. the dune 2 popcorn bucket is gonna make me do it. and i’m mad that i’m this cheap. stupid dune 2 popcorn bucket.


    Posted on 2/9/24. Bluesky.

    New cat owners are so funny. I keep coming across posts where people are like “what’s wrong with my cat? It will push everything off my lap and climb on my face and never stops rubbing on me and meows at me every time I move.”

    It’s love. Your cat loves you. Lmao

    The more annoying a cat is, the more they love you. Rub them and talk to them in a baby voice. Accept your servitude. Your lap is theirs. This is why you got a cat.

    “Why does this cat purr the instant he sees me even if I’m not doing anything?”

    YOUR CAT LOVES YOU, this is supposed to happen! I think new cat owners expect their cats to be aloof, sort of decorative, and just aren’t ready for the fact cats are clingy little weirdos (which is why I love em)


    Posted on 2/11/24. Facebook.

    Two weeks sober now. Woo woo! Mostly unremarkable. However, I spent the last few years only having one kind of dream (travel dreams), and now I’m having all sorts of bizarre dreams.

    Like I dreamed about having four boyfriends last night. Four BOYfriends. Wtf is my brain even thinking?
    ~

    (I am definitely also attracted to men; I just have way more exacting standards and don’t trust dudes easily, so the idea of finding four men I’d bang at once is ridiculous to me! OTOH if four women were like “join us Sara” I wouldn’t have enough a brain to even ask questions.)

    ~

    I was finally honest with myself and bought MARRY ME with Jennifer Lopez and Owen Wilson. I didn’t think it was a very good movie the first time I watched it. It’s all I want to watch right now, and frankly Jennifer Lopez romcoms are all I want to watch about 60% of my waking hours.

    When I say “Jennifer Lopez romcoms” I do in fact mostly mean THE CELL (2000). It’s a romcom between JLo and ME.

  • image credit: Universal Pictures
    movie reviews

    Movie Review: Marry Me (2022) ****

    In Marry Me, a pair of characters best compared to IRL Jennifer Lopez and Bad Bunny agree to get married on stage during a concert, but the dude popstar turns out to be a cheater, so Character JLo marries an audience member on a whim because he’s holding a “Marry Me” sign. Much to her benefit, this audience member turns out to be Owen Wilson, who is very good at “I’m in love with this woman”-face.

    As it turns out, Owen Wilson is a humble single dad math teacher. He respects the hell out of JLo’s character. He’s one of the nicest romcom heroes, and I just always love nice dad heroes. The match-up between a fabulous globe-trotting pop star and the Extremely Common Dude creates plenty of insecurity between them. Of course it all works out nicely.

    That said, I was not terribly impressed the first time I watched Marry Me. I’d have probably given it a knee-jerk two stars of “what is this crap?” This was my first rewatch since release two years ago, and I loved it a lot more.

    In the intervening years, I’ve watched a ton of romcoms, high and low budget. I also watched a movie with a similar hero/heroine duo, but at Christmastime, and with Freddie Prinze Junior: Christmas With You. I gave that one five stars because I was in *such* a Christmas romcom mood and it made me so happy. Marry Me isn’t quite as much of a happy-glow vibe for me, but it’s also way better than two stars now that I can compare it to many more flicks in the genre.

    Where Marry Me works, it works very well. I like JLo romcoms because she puts her whole doe-eyed heart into them. She has outstanding chemistry with Owen Wilson (kachow!). I believe that both of them have reasonable motivations to make a sincere effort to have a successful marriage with a stranger from disparate life circumstances.

    This movie also features young Chloe Coleman as Lou, the daughter. You might recognize her from Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves as Chris Pine’s adorable daughter. This lass has enormous talent, and she’s been exercising it since she started in 2013, locking in thirty roles on IMDB. Can you imagine a career starting on Glee and crossing through “daughter of Captain Kirk and Lightning McQueen” before you’re an adult? Although I *always* worry about kids working so much, I’m also impressed when kid actors are good enough to meet (possibly exceed) the abilities of the adults surrounding them.

    The casting in general is notable for a romcom that feels a bit Hallmarky. Sarah Silverman gets to be the chaotic lesbian best friend, Samwell from Westeros is the manager guy for JLo, Maluma played Bad Bunny* (*not really), and Jameela Jamil even shows up for a minute with hardly a single pomp OR a circumstance. I was just looking at the casting for JLo’s upcoming music video movie, and it’s got an even more stacked cast list, so I’m thinking JLo has a lot of famous friends?

    On a less glowing note, the setup stretched credulity a *little* too far. The whole wedding flipperoo early on still just feels extremely contrived to put these people together. I wouldn’t mind if the movie’s energy went a little harder in general–more stylized, more silly, more *something*. Matching the extreme sincerity of JLo’s interest in the “I still have hope for love” narrative (which is charming) with this concert wedding that suddenly involves a total stranger just doesn’t quite work for me personally. But I bet that’s the element that makes this a perfect fantasy for someone.

    The soundtrack is solid if you like pop music, the chemistry and performances are worth the price of admission, and I genuinely enjoy every single look JLo’s character wears in Marry Me. I’m glad I spent eight bucks to buy this one because I know I’m going to keep rewatching it when my brain doesn’t want to brain and I just want to say “Wowwwww, kachow!” every time Owen Wilson is on screen.

    Okay, but now let’s imagine that the “Hansel” theme played when Owen Wilson went on stage to marry JLo. That would have made this a six star movie, bare minimum.

    (image credit: Universal Pictures)

  • image credit: Disney
    movie reviews

    Movie Review: The Marvels (2023) ****

    Hey, I didn’t hate this one!

    Long before I started forming (only slightly) more cogent movie opinions, my rule for answering “Is this movie any good?” was based upon whether or not it bores me. If I wasn’t bored watching a movie, it was Good Enough.

    By 35-year-old Sara standards, The Marvels wasn’t really any good. The story was nigh incoherent. The stakes were flimsy. The movie did not take its own central drama seriously.

    But I was Not Bored in a very pleasant way for most of The Marvels after the first twenty minutes or so, which means there is a solid hourish of watchable movie there. You can’t have any expectations for Actual Plot because, again, flimsy and incoherent. Let me tell you a little secret about American cape comics though: The writing is almost never the strong suit anyway. I don’t really care when Marvel movies are badly written. I’m willing to meet them on their level, like The Eternals.

    What I hope to get is gonzo, Golden Age nonsense, and The Marvels delivered with alien kittens devouring people. Why is there a planet where people have to sing to understand each other? Who freakin cares. Did you notice that Kamala is dancing the whole time? It’s adorable. I want Captain Marvel’s dress. The graphics are pretty. Teyonah Parris. There’s just so much to speak for it.

    Really, I’m mostly here for Baby Lesbian Kamala, who surely leaves The Marvels with a whole lotta brand-new confusing fetishes for violent mommies. I have never seen more of a Flop-Sweat Lesbian Panic than the moment where Kamala realizes that Captain Marvel was actually in her bedroom. That’s how I would feel if Brie Larson showed up in my house too. Kamala has so many fan-drawings of herself hugging/helping/living a beautiful life with Captain Marvel, and I relate so strongly.

    There’s no heterosexual explanation for anything happening with Captain Marvel. She doesn’t have to grapple the generic hot mommy villain so intimately, but she does, and bless her heart for it. There’s no denying Captain Marvel is Monica’s lesbian mommy and they can’t reconcile missing Captain Marvel’s wife. You just can’t!

    Only a lesbian would look at the prince of the magical singing ocean planet and think, “Yeah, let’s make this a marriage of convenience rather than hanging out to rail this hot guy wearing this beautiful dress.”

    Only a lesbian would have this much of her hero arc based upon the activity of an orange cat. If you read that sentence and thought, “But I’m not a lesbian and I’d have a hero arc based on an orange cat?” then you’re a lesbian. I don’t make the rules.

    Baby Lesbian Kamala’s family is also a very sparkling highlight of the movie, much with the family in Blue Beetle, and I was happy to see them even if they got better writing on Kamala’s show. I also really enjoyed Samuel L. Jackson’s commitment to enjoying himself throughout the film. This man is tired of taking life seriously, and I enjoyed the haze of compersion from watching Nick Fury ham it up alongside kittens, family, and my sweet flaw-free niece Kamala.

    This whole thing is really a rollicking good time for families, if you ask me. I rewound the scene with the kittens eating people twice to show my kids. I’ll probably make my spouse watch this later because I think he’ll also love Kamala and kittens. Kamala, kittens, and “this one is for the girls and gays” as an overwhelming priority makes this one of the most tolerable MCU entries I’ve watched since the Kamala show.

    (image credit: Disney)

  • Diaries,  slice of life

    Annie (2008 – 2024)

    I resent that other people have emotions. That they have weight. I resent that other people must need to take space during a time when I cannot hold the weight of my own emotions. I wish I didn’t have to be a mother when I’m very sad. I wish other people would be fine without me. I wish I could just fall into the donut hole of myself and stay there until I feel better. Once the weight becomes not so smothering.

    ~

    Sixteen years ago I got a kitten. She came from a box behind a grocery store. She was riddled with mites and ticks. We took care of her very closely, our first medically complicated mammal-friend.

    She grew up so loving that it was annoying. She couldn’t take no for an answer. I tried to give her to my sister so I wouldn’t have to keep dealing with that tortoiseshell attitude, but at the last moment, I got way too sad. I loved her much more than I recognized.

    So she stayed.

    ~

    I don’t want to remember everything because it just makes me feel sad.

    ~

    The cost of loving very, very much is hurting very, very much when something ends. And everything ends eventually. You know you’ve been lucky if it hurts a lot.

    They say that our little mammal-friends give us the best years of our life, and then the single worst day of our lives.

    ~

    This is the last of the cats my husband and I had before we got married. She was a little box baby found in a Walmart parking lot. We nurtured her through ear mites and ticks and watched her grow into the biggest personality. After I had Moonlight, thirteen years ago, little Miss Annie ate one of their baby bottle nipples and needed $3000 surgery to remove it. I spent a while calling her the other things I could have used that money for. “Little Miss Caribbean Vacation.” “Little Miss Used Car.”

    When Little Sunshine was born, Annie used to curl up in bed with both of us and lick the baby’s head. She would put him down for naps like that. When he went through the grabby baby hand stage, she loved it and would position herself so that he could squeeze her face.

    We chose not to remove a tumor that developed on her shoulder. It grew very aggressively, and she couldn’t compete with her siblings for food/water anymore, so we gave her the entire spare bedroom as an apartment. It helped her perk up a ton. She spent her last year in there getting multiple daily visits, where I would groom and tend her, and we would snuggle extensively. I loved her more in this last year than I have ever loved a cat. Something about taking care of someone who is sick becomes so intimate.

    Her tumor became so large, it really bothered her. She seemed worn out. I made a little sweater for her with a webbing inside to hold crocheted cotton bandages, that way we could cover the tumor and the kids could still visit. But she was so tired. It was time. I miss her already.

    ~

    There is no dying without regret. It’s one of the things that makes it so hard. You can’t do it perfectly. It’s like how you can make a birth plan when you’re pregnant, listing out all your preferences, but your body and baby will decide how it happens. Death never comes at the right time. It’s never pretty. It is hard and unpleasant.

    ~

    I do think we will meet again someday, somehow, in some form.

    I truly believe that.

  • source: RLJ Entertainment
    movie reviews

    Movie Review: Plus One (2019) ***

    Plus One is about a couple of friends who decide to become each other’s plus-ones at ten weddings over the course of the year. As one would expect with heterosexuality in a romance-oriented movie, it develops into Something More.

    This is about eighty percent of a movie I *adored* and then a massive letdown of a final twenty percent.

    I was poised to love this one, since it has Jack Quaid, who I like to call Twink Meg Ryan. He’s the son of Meg Ryan and Dennis Quaid, but takes much more after his mother. He’s got her charisma and good looks and then he’s also tall, which is basically a royal flush for a white guy.

    I wasn’t familiar with Maya Erskine before this, but she became my favorite immediately. Her performance is so funny. She’s got tons of range, great nuance, and she is adorably tiny compared to Jack Quaid. (Height disparity is always cute to me.)

    The problem is that Maya Erskine could have carried this movie alone (like a dirtbag Meg Ryan), but the film was more concerned with Jack Quaid’s character. It felt as though it were written primarily as a vehicle for Meg Ryan’s son to do a romcom. But then it failed to do romcom well: the messy breakup happens, and Quaid’s character makes no grand gesture to earn her love in return. He talks to her briefly after changing his mind, and that’s it.

    We follow Quaid’s character through his personal development. We do not see the reason Erskine’s character ends up with her ex again, or why they break up again in favor of Quaid, nor do we see Erskine’s character arc in regards to her parents completed. Plus One skips over the most critical climactic elements of romance in favor of Quaid’s character piece.

    Suddenly, at the end of the movie, they are together again. There is no catharsis. We are deprived of genuine satisfaction.

    It’s not enough for one person in a romance to overcome their issues. The point of romances is for both people to change through the darkest moment because the other person has what they need, so they grow for each other. Here, all Erskine “needed” was for Quaid to change his mind–at least, based on what we can tell happening on screen. Even Erskine’s family issues ended up serving Quaid’s character: it was only an opportunity to show his fear of commitment, not her growth.

    Keeping their reconciliation off-screen, reflected on in brief montage, is basically criminal. Like, why’d you even make a romcom?

    The first hour-ish of the movie was a hoot. Their relationship was adorable. Only One Bed In The Hotel Room is among my favorite tropes. By the time they hooked up, I was making zoo animal noises and banging around my living room. I was ready to give this six stars up until the moment I realized that, yes, we were going to spend the whole last twenty minutes with Quaid’s character, relegating Erskine to the prize he wins by having a heart-to-heart with his drugged up dad.

    A bad dismount generally ruins an entire movie for me, especially when it feels like they flunked something so integral to the genre. It’s like if they didn’t show Aragorn at his coronation in Return of the King, or The Matrix skipping over a climactic fight scene, or a mystery shrugging off finding the answer. It’s really frustrating how often people make romcoms and don’t actually understand the payoff points of romance.

    Sorry, Twink Meg Ryan, but this wasn’t it. I hope to see him in another romcom because it’s cute watching him Bold Boimler his way through hookups, but hopefully he gets better writing next time. And I’m going to go try Erskine in Mr. and Mrs. Smith, where I hope she gets better writing too.

    (image source: RLJ Entertainment)