The Wild Blog in the West

I had no special reason for posting this, except that I decided this past weekend to rewatch the Les Miserables  movie, having not watched it for a while.  I was curious to see whether my impressions of it have changed. Overall, while I'm not as wildly over the moon about the Les Miz  movie as when it premiered, I still find it to be a worthwhile production.  Several have criticized Tom Hooper for failing to go larger than life with it, like in the stage production, with a barricade the length of a football field.  However, I think his choice to make it gritty and closer to the source material is commendable.  It would have been easy to follow the blueprint of the glossy costume musical, where the peasants' clothes glow brightly, there is not a speck of mud on the ground, and the players mime along to lyrics during elaborate dance numbers.  Hooper made some notable deviations, and they mostly paid off.  If his choices aren't better valued, it ...

For about its first five seasons, Roseanne  (1988-1997) was a revelation.  Those put off by Roseanne Barr's abrasive personality missed one of the few television shows (let alone sitcoms) to portray family and the working class in a realistic manner. You just didn't see shows like this on the air.  Its fellow sitcoms included The Cosby Show  and Growing Pains , both shows involving well-to-do families with large, impossibly neat houses.  Whereas Roseanne and Dan Conner's house looked like the house you might have : an old, faded afghan covering a worn-out couch; magazines strewn over the coffee table; odds and ends crowding a desk in the background. And their family seemed like one you (or *cough* at least I) might have as well.  Not one where the kids were endlessly subservient to, and stupider than, the parents, like on The Cosby Show .  Becky and Darlene fought with their parents, sometimes viciously.  They fought with each other the same...

Okay, so it's not quite 50,000 yet, just about 48,000.   My neo-Victorian novel stood at 174,000 words at its longest.  Now it's just under 126,000 and falling.  The goal is to get it as close to 120,000 as possible, or even lower, without killing it. So far, with just under 6,000 to go, the novel still lives.  So how did I do it?  It's easy! 1.  Read through your entire book, snipping extraneous "even"s, "that"s, "only"s and other filler words that don't alter the meaning of the sentence if removed.  That's good for 1,500 or so. 2.  Read through your entire book again.  This time, on top of snipping extraneous words, snip certain extraneous sentences as well.  Now you've cut almost 6,000 words from your novel.  Wow! 3.  Cut a short chapter that, though it provides character moments, disrupts the flow and doesn't really add anything to the story overall.  So out it goes, all 2,000 words of it.  Goodbye fun...

Two unpopular opinions in a row?  Can the universe hold? Eh, I was having a bit of a dry spell for a while, unable to think of anything I truly liked or disliked that most other people felt the opposite way about.  Then I remembered one of the most personal aspects of life, the one thing most likely to spur strong opinions. No, not motherhood. I'm talking about diets.  "But it's not unpopular to hate fad diets," you say.  Unless they're the ones you swear by. I should back up and explain.  Now and then, I have digestive ailments, and I am sensitive to a variety of foods.  Tired of dealing with the issue, I went to a nutritionist at my glorified McDonalds of a hospital network, who determined that I was gluten sensitive.  (As to why I was not simply referred to a gastroenterologist?  My hospital network demands that you jump through hoops first, including attending a special class and then seeing a nutritionist.  Because going to a ...

"Well sure, lots of people dislike driving," you think. No, I hate driving. "Sure, lots of people hate traffic jams and speedsters and --" No, I hate driving .  Not just hate it, but fear it. Let me back up a little.  I don't hate all driving.  I actually enjoy driving to some extent, like on curving country back roads.  Driving across town?  No problem. It's when I need to drive long distances on the freeway that the hate and fear come in waves.  By long distances, I mean more than 20 miles. I can't fully explain where the hate/fear came from.  It arose not long after I first started driving, when I realized that 65 mph on the freeway was kind of fast!  It is probably mainly centered around issues of control: driving is one of the more dangerous activities in this country, and I really prefer keeping my risk of death or bodily injury low, thanks. Then there is the claustrophobia element: stuck in one car, one position, for possib...