My Hero of the Day is Monsieur Jean Genet

Yes I complained about Facebook yesterday, but today on my news feed was the greatest little video of an interview (or should I say, interrogation) of the writer Jean Genet courtesy of the BBC.

In the interview Jean Genet talks about "breaking the normal order of things". Not a big surprise considering that Jean Genet is one of the true rebels of literature who had a fascinating life. What makes it particularly interesting is that just a week ago a friend of mine came out to visit La Maisonette and I gave her "The Thief's Journal" to borrow telling her that if she wanted to know the mentality of a criminal, it wasn't a bad place to start.

I won't go into Genet's biography here, but simply leave you this inspiring video of Monsieur Genet. Yes he was imprisoned throughout his life from the age of 15, but also keep in mind that when he was sentenced to death he was spared because of petitions made to the French President on his behalf by Jean Cocteau, Pablo Picasso, and Jean-Paul Sartre. All because they pleaded, that to take Genet from the world would be a far more horrible injustice than the petty crimes he had commited.

It's not even 10 o'clock and I've already had a discussion with another writer I know in Colombia about writing and how to help each other with writer's block (which is called o terror de la pagina blanco apparently in Spanish, though he might have been taking some liberties). I wish I'd seen this video before so I could have sent it to him as he is also a big fan of Genet.

So today's inspiration is break the order of things. Which would do me a lot of good considering that now that I've outlined my entire book from start to finish I've been unable to write since. Perhaps today I will casse my writer's block, which Genet called la petite bête*.

*la petite bête is what the French call a jeux de mot so in this instance I don't think Genet meant l'appetite  bête so I can only assume he meant writer's block is "the little penis". See, I told you he was a genius.

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Congreve's Cube from Mr. Magorium's Magic Emporium

I just finished watching Mr. Magorium's Magic Emporium because I love children's movies and I ain't afraid to admit it.

Weather is dreary in Paris and I desperately need inspiration. I've written a total of 140 words in the past two weeks. A book store crawl through 3 different quartiers of Paris was little help.

So I watched Mr. Magorium's Magic Emporium, and without ruining it for those who have yet to see it, thanks to IMDB and a little curiosity on my part, I found something rather interesting from the movie.

Mr. Magorium gives Mahoney a cube, a highly polished but normal looking block of wood that is magical, though she is unable to see it called the Congreve Cube. A user on IMDB theorized that:

William Congreve either suffered from Writer's Block, or was so put off by a review and changing tastes in plays that he wrote no more. He wrote 5 plays and stopped, but, perhaps a deeper meaning of the Congreve Cube can be found in the opening lines of his play "The Mourning Bride," in which the first character laments the death of her love:

"Music has charms to soothe the savage breast. To soften rock, or bend knotted oak. I've read, that inanimate things have moved and, as with living souls, have been informed by magic numbers and persuasive sound."

Congreve lived off the residuals of his earlier works, only occasionally writing a poem or translating a work by Moliere, having gone off the deep end after Jeremy Collier (and collier could be translated here as a necklace or yoke, if we wanted to, and I do), wrote that Congreve's plays were too sexual in nature.

I'm often criticized because in the writing group I occasionally pop into I'm rather harsh with my views on people's writings. Part of the reason why I don't pull any punches or expect anyone to pull any for my sake either is because as a writer you have to be able to take criticism and if you can't take it from a stranger who is actually trying to help you, than how will you deal with it when it's a professional?

So the moral of today's story is don't be like William Congreve. If you believe in your work, don't let anyone tell you otherwise. And never rest of your residuals.

Congreve's ego and unwillingness to defend his work might have deprived the world of more great writing because it was Congreve who wrote:

"Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned,"

And we all know that line, don't we?

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Dogs in Stories, More Yoga, and The Egg Timer

Okay, so there are actually a frikkin ton of books with dogs in them. But not Dylan Thomas' autobiography, Life of a Dog, which I haven't started reading yet. But I've been told by a reliable source there isn't a dog in the whole shebang.

I read Mikhail Bukalov's "Heart of a Dog", and found it totally inspiring. It's a fantastic satire and really helped me with my own work. But other things sort of propelled me forward.

1) I went to a group where I spent three minutes talking about what my flaws are. I'm fragmented. I mean I write in fragments. A woman in the group who is a journalist said journalists write the middle of the story before they write the beginning or the end. This made me feel a little better but still...lazy. Yep, that's me.

2) The egg timer. Which I bought for someone else but used last night. I only got 330 words out in 30 minutes. But I used it for 20 minutes this morning and wrote 1,330, not including the 330 words from last night. I wrote from the beginning. Fantastic.

3) I am a creature of routine when I need to get something done. So I've decided I will structure my writing. Let's see if I stick to it.

I plan to get up at 8 am Monday - Friday, write until 9h30, then get ready for yoga. Yoga means I'm not free again until 13h00, so after a quick lunch (I am trying to get healthy for my heart), I'll write in my blog about complete crap.

Like for instance, I watched Harold and Maude again the other night. It has always been one of my favorite movies. Maude is such a kick. A real character. You wish you had a grandmother like her, and her antics on film feel like stories you tell because you knew her personally or knew of her.

I've always considered one of my greatest assets as a writer that I'm observant. I notice everything. I listen to six conversations at once at a party. I know when a couple at a cafe are fighting and why. I notice faces and the color of someone's scarf. Details are important to making characters jump off the page and into the reader's heart.

I'm also a very visual writer. I give my characters and my settings a real visual aspect. I want you to know what their faces look like in various states, what they're wearing, what the tree behind them looks like. Paint a picture with words.

And, I'm a poet at heart. Maybe I don't write sonnets anymore, but I love poetic devices and use them in prose. My writing has emotion to it. I feel and dream along with the characters I've created.

So back to this whole having started from the beginning. My pup is coming to life and she's fantastic and she's got a fantastic little story going on and I'm awfully excited.

Btw, I did create a kick ass playlist on Deezer which sure helps a lot.

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Painting Scenes

The other night my friend D. and me put some paper on the floor and started painting away. I painted pictures to inspire me, for my book.

I'm not a good painter - in fact I have no idea whatsoever how to actually paint.

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Meeting New Peoples

So I have been going to the writing group.

I've met a few new souls, some older and younger and cuter - though let's be serious. Never date a writer. I wouldn't date me. My boyfriend is part cheerleader, patron, psychiatrist, moral supporter, editor, and idiot who doesn't read enough to "get" me. Who wants that thankless job? Yes there are bouts of blisfull moments where convinced that good sweaty sex will help writers block I say great things like..."are you playing with your cell phone? wanna play with me?"

But most of the time I'm...siting on the couch and not in bed at 6 am because I'm trying to write, but end up watching pirated torrents of Gossip Girl instead or...not spending any quality time with you because I'm having coffee with other writers, most of whom trash talk Paris like she's the slut that slept with their best friend.

I sound like a prize don't I? If only you knew how good of a cook I am. Whoever said the way to a man's heart is through his stomach was a fucking genius.

But the books I've found. The reading I'm going to do.

It IS going to make me a better writer. God dammit.

It better.

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"She goes from Inspiration to 0 in 60 seconds", bragged the salesman.

Well, I've done it.

I promised myself I'd dedicate waking hours to writing and being serious and so today I've...

1. Read further into the Miss Snark blog that is teaching me LOTS

2. Submitted a post on CL to look for like-minded serious writers who would like to drink a lot with me and maybe share some writing

3. Google'd the teacher of this class to see whether or not it'd be worth my time and money. It's 70 euros only, but that is 1/25 of a Chanel bag.

4. Am now going to clean my house because a clean house might mean more time for writing later on. Yay.

Plus, I have nothing to write about today. I think it's a typing up on longhand scribbles and then we'll see I suppose.

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