Maria Alexander News and Updates from TheHandlessPoet.com

Before I hit the keyboard again hard tonight, I wanted to mention that The Frenchman and I had a spectacular dinner with Faustlast night, enjoying Chef Damon's culinary creativity. I know Faust enjoyed the foie gras dim sum but I might have actually enjoyed the brie, honey and pomegranate appetizer a wee bit more. However, everything was so fantastic, I really can't pick a favorite part of the meal. (The "pre-dessert" was scrumptious, too: a small chocolate cup that held a demi-shot of limoncello, followed by the true dessert of chocolate mousse. Oh la la!)

I then got to try on clothing, including some vintage wear, and brought home three lovely pieces: a long-sleeved, black velvet bolero; an elegant, 1930s dusty rose house coat with a black rose pattern down the sleeve; and a 1940s-style, bada-bing bada-boom pink skirt suit that hugs my curves better than a sheet of shower water. Woof!

It was a good day to be The Me.

We just got back from dinner at Fatty's Cafe in Eagle Rock with The Marquise and The King of the Nachoheads. Tasty menu with great presentation of the dishes. I just wish the interior had more to commend itself. The 2005 syrah we had from Australia really accented the food, although I kind of wish I'd had the lavender martini. Lavender is part of my religion. Lavender and blueberries, that is. If there is a food or beverage made of lavender or blueberries, I must try it.

And that's all for tonight!

Labels: clothes, food

That was Recruiter #3 this morning who called about getting me to apply for the Sr. Copywriter position over at Hot Topic and Torrid.

I already had one phone interview over there. The main problems are that:

1) They're 29 miles away.
2) The work environment is crap for writing.
3) They work 9/80 hours, which are especially crippling if you're commuting at least an hour each way.
4) They want the Sr. Copywriter to also supervise somewhat and not for nearly enough money.

I told the recruiter that they've got to let the candidate telecommute. But they just can't allow it.

Sorry, guys! Indeed, I am your Perfect Sr. Copywriter, but this dark diva shant be lending her polished prose to your product line.

I'm being less communicative than usual. Work is kicking my ass and I'm trying to still write. I finally crossed the 30K threshold tonight on the rewrite and things feel like they're finally moving. Sleep is problematic for all kinds of reasons.

And then tonight Robie jumped in the toilet. After scrubbing him down with a wet towel, I closed all the potty lids.

I need the rest cure, methinks. Soon.

Robie and The Frenchman are on a man date at the veterinarian today. It's the first time The Frenchman has been to the veterinarian. Ever. His brief bout with Dancy the Bunny was his only brush with pet ownership. So, off they went this morning to the vet recommended by Dr. Doolittle who is too busy for new patients. It should be enlightening for him.

The writing is still crawling and I can't seem to speed it up. I'm up to just over 29K on the rewrite. I feel like I'm just now getting the hang of this new genre. Joy! The good news is that the people I'm freelancing for have told me I'm free to reduce my hours at will so that I can write more. Once we get past this push that ends October 1, I'm definitely going to do that.

As for 2 Days in Paris, I neglected to mention that Julie Delpy made one error in the film's content, which is that in portraying her free-spirited, bohemian family, she inadvertently strengthens the stereotype that French people are sex fiends. I've got tons of references -- and experience -- to the contrary. There was even an article published in the New York Times* about a study comparing the sexual habits of the French and Americans. The study declared the sex habits were very similar, with French women starting sexual activity later than American women, and in general French people staying married longer.

(Dammit, someone's got to want to publish my article, "The Other France: Sex, Guns and the Sarkozy Presidency.")



*“On Sex: U.S. and France Speak Same Language,” 2001, New York Times.

Labels: France, french stereotypes

Last night, The Frenchman took me to see 2 Days in Paris, which was hilarious. It's about a Franco-American couple who spends two insane days in the zany French girlfriend's hometown of Paris after a two-week vacation in Venice. While I had a far better time there with The Frenchman's friends and family, I could totally relate to the screwball anxiety that her American boyfriend goes through in the film due to the language barrier. Oh la la! Julie Delpy, who wrote, directed and starred in the film, relies a bit much on Amelie techniques toward the beginning and periodically through the film. However, the one-liners delivered by her cranky, histrionic boyfriend played by Adam Goldberg are fabulous.

And for those who care, I decided to pick up The Chamber of Secrets while I was at the airport this weekend. I'm already almost halfway through. Damn, this book is a fast read. I can't believe how swift the plot is. It just runs along like a freight train.

My writing is not running along, but rather more like limping feverishly in the desert. I need to put on some wordage, pronto!

Labels: France, Harry Potter, Julie Delpy

Robespierre is five pounds exactly! He's like a little barbell! I got a very funny video of him trying to get into the tub with The Frenchman, but I'm afraid it's a bit too scandalous to put on the Net. If only I knew how to use that thar fuzzing out thingy.

Meanwhile, I'm working again, this time freelancing at a local technology startup. My first day was 9/11 and the day did not disappoint. That should say it all. Needless to say, I'm still job searching. At least there were chocolate Drumsticks. There's also free lunch every day. This keeps us from leaving for things like fresh air, sunlight and exercise.

I'm hovering around 30K into the rewrite of the book. If I'm a good girl, maybe I'll finish by the end of the year, eh?

Maybe we should just rename him Hastur Pussycat.

Dear Amazon,

Your online community design team STILL does not understand how blogging works. "Is this post interesting?" is about the lamest attempt ever to force the review model onto blogging. It simply doesn't work. Please take away the ratings on blog posts. Authors don't want it. It's not helpful. How on earth could this be helpful? You've given harassers a way to harass us and not given us the ability to turn off this annoying feature. You don't understand authors, either! We know people are interested because they post comments, not because they click the weenie "Is this post interesting?" button.

You still need to hire me for online community consultation, by the way.

Sincerely,

Maria Alexander

Labels: Amazon, clueless bastards

The writing is starting to come along. 3,000 words this weekend on the rewrite, in the midst of much tiring house mending. We bought three bookcases at Ikea that actually aren't butt-ugly and put them together. I've also been emptying box after box of books and CDs.

We took a delightful break on Sunday for incredibly tasty dim sum with Lisa Morton and her partner, Ricky. They came over and saw Robespierre, who was on markedly better behavior that morning than when Christa Faust was here. Naughty kitten! La terreur!

I also colored my hair. Um...the resulting color doesn't remotely match that which was on the box, unfortunately. It's not a bad color, just not the right color. Alas!

The only part of the weekend that made me wince was reading King's On Writing where he actually tells writers that they shouldn't plot. I almost rolled off the couch when I read that! The problem with many otherwise talented writers in genre -- or, for that matter, writers period -- is that they don't know how to effing plot! Their books drag interminably because they are clueless as to how to create pace and suspense. No thanks, Mr. King. I've had my fill of suffering from books that wander, have shitty endings or move forward with the impetus of a brick mortared into a wall. And why does that happen? Because the writer didn't care or know how to create a plot. As King himself would say, Fuggedaboutit!

Despite that, he says a lot of nifty things about writing that I wish more writers would heed.

Now to collapse.