C.S.E. Cooney

Ouch!
Beautiful.
My father sent it to me.
You think he's trying to tell me something?

Anyway. I love it. But OUCH!

My brother writes about his concert at Fiddler's Dream with S.J. Tucker.

So did elmocho, but from an audience member's perspective.

Patty-Hawk writes about her weekend, including watching my performance in "Flying Solo." (As did seabird78 and fuzzilla. Thank you!)

Kyle returned the favor.

I wrote a poem. (No, people, I WROTE a POEM! My first ALL WINTER! Gah! Thank you, foxipher, for the encouragement.)

I talked to Mrs. Q for an hour on the phone, and she told me all about Shirley Jackson, whose biography she'd just read.

I listened to tithenai's mixed C.D. three times, made a mixed tape for some friends of many of those songs, dashed her off a wee note and actually GOT IT TO THE POST OFFICE!!!

I talked to mer_moon briefly.

I started "On Chesil Beach" by Ian McEwan.

punkbeaver came over and ran errands with me and then we ate spanakopitas from the Family Fruit Market and wrote and wrote and wrote. Then made big burritos.

More work was done on The Big Bah-Ha! HALLO, THE FLABBERGHAST.

And Samu. Samu wrote me the most deliciously long email EVER. And I remember why I adore him. I forget sometimes, for MONTHS ON END. But I remember now. And I will write him back anon.

We'll have an open mic on Thursday night.

My mother arrives Thursday night.

AND BIGGEST NEWS OF ALL:

Katie had her baby on Sunday night.

And it is a Son.

Before I tell you what s00j said, I have to tell you that I deleted her comment in my previous post.

I didn't MEAN to. There I was, in my Inbox, minding my own bizness. WHEN ALL OF A SUDDEN...

No, I will backtrack.

There were two comments from her in my Inbox. O HAPPY COMMENTS! The first was a draft of the second. The second was the comment EDITED. So I deleted the draft comment, but LJ deleted BOTH in one fell SWOOP, and I feel TERRIBLE.

(I've done this before, but not for a while. I'd forgotten it did that.)

So anyway, I'm gonna post her comment HERE, because this is how she thought yesterday's concert with my brother cerebralphantom, or REMI (as I call him), or Jeremy (to the world at large) went, and I didn't want it lost to the dust and dark of the ages...

"DARLING, it was BLISS. You have wrought BLISS in Phoenix, and I have met BROTHERS, so many brothers now! You have an entire pack of Lost Boys all your own. Jeremy shone and so did I, on that tiny stage with no microphones at all, and what, I have fans in Phoenix?!? Fans I didn't know about!! Fans who make me a birthday present of a necklace with a sweet red dragon! D. says that the Ninja song, and I, have stolen his heart. Scamp. And returning home, we found note on pillow from your goddess of a mama: I know it may not be the best thing for a cold but...don't forget there's ice cream in the freezer! Sleep sweet.

I would say call ME next time, except that this time it would have been a bad idea...with me fighting off this bliddy cold and therefore saving my poor voice for its prescheduled singing time. :(

break many legs, Fancy Girl. I miss you.

Oh yes: we drafted Jeremy onstage for "Salad of Doom" and he acquitted himself brilliantly, with no warning at all."

***

And she only met THREE of my five brothers!!!
And I don't KNOW the Salad of Doom song!
OR the NINJA SONG!

*mourns*

Dear self, lovely self, self with the blue ribbons braided in your hair, self who wears blue flowers and red velvet, who sharpens knives and has to perform things tonight, who eats post-tech steak sandwiches at 11 PM, you know I love you, I really do, you're a real pal, BUT:

YOU OUGHT NOT, AS AN ADULT, AS AN ACTOR, AS A WORKING WOMAN, TO STAY UP UNTIL 2:00 AM READING BOOKS WHEN YOU HAVE TO WORK EARLY THE NEXT DAY AND PERFORM THE NEXT NIGHT.

I'm just sayin's all.

And that said, I am glad you showered. You were beginning to smell. But now you are just fine. Faintly redolent, perhaps, of that herbalish conditioner Karin gave you. And that posy-pink (berry or floral?) hand lotion you have in your backpack. And that lavender-vanilla spray you used. And that other lotion you put on, with the entirely different and contrasting smell to the other smells.

All in all, though, an improvement.

***

This morning I called my mother three times, leaving her all sorts of messages, because I WANT to know how the CONCERT went last night. The second message consisted of the "George of the Jungle" tune, only with these words:

"Si-ta, Queen of the Jungle
Strong as she can be -
Watch out for that tree!"

And that was it. But there were other messages too, not so PITHY.

Jeremy has bought a new toy. A ukulele. He has made up a song about S.J. Tucker to the tune of "Old Dan Tucker." He sent me the lyrics, but I want to HEAR it.

Nobody calls me anymore.

Not that I'm ever at liberty to talk to them.

I should probably call Cavan back. It's been, like, a week. Good thing he lives in New York City, where there is much to keep him occupied. His chances of pining to death for lack of my dulcet voice and scintillating conversation are much reduced by this happy chance.

Patty's coming tonight. And Karin. Perhaps Dave? I know these for sure. And tomorrow, the Belgian says he will come. So I will have ALLIES in the audience. Mrs. Q cannot. A tough week, she said.

And Coal will be there in spirit, barefoot or in slippers, she says. Drinking wine.

So. Am slightly nervous. But good nerves. Edgy, bouncy, why-do-I-have-to-work-all-day nerves.

I started reading McCarthy's THE ROAD on the platform this morning. A very gray, cold book for a gray, cold morning. And sometimes he uses punctuation and sometimes he doesn't. He won't use the apostrophe for the contraction "hasn't" but WILL use one for "There'd". So... Yeah.

But the rhythm's very beautiful. And the phrasing is clear and sharp as icicles. And I like the father and the son, and I dread for them.

So the man is doing his job, doing it well, and I will keep reading.

Yes. I have the musical "Assassins" on the brain. All morning.

(Hey! I worked on The Big Bah-Ha last night! It's going eyeball-piercingly slow!!! But I WORKED! And that's something!)

The Belgian has now expanded his scare tactics not only from trying to sneak up on me at the station platform, but to silently riding his bike behind me if I've gotten a head start walking, and frightening me into the snowbanks. As you can imagine, I am often looking over my shoulder.

But today I was singing "Assassins" to myself, secure in the knowledge that he was purchasing a 10-ride back at the station. I started with "Unworthy of Your Love." The first part, about Jody Foster. Although I think Squeaky Fromme's part about Charles Manson is more vicious:

"I am nothing.
You are
Wind and Devil and God
Charlie.
Take my blood and my body for your love
Let me feel fire, let me drink poison
Tell me to tear my heart in two...
If that's what you want me to do."

Something in the air changed. I squeaked a shriek and went off the sidewalk. The Belgian grinned. I rounded on him, jabbed him in the ribs (sending his wheels into the snow), and he laughed and said, "Nice song!" and rode away on the street surface. Where he belongs.

***

In other news. Theatrical news. Self-promotiony news. (You may stop reading if you're not a resident of Chicago.)

Hallo, friendly friends of FRIENDSHIP!

Nice to WRITE to you! After LO THESE MANY YEARS! Or days.

It is Claire!

And I am going to be in a SOLO PERFORMANCE SHOW this weekend.
Saturday at 8 PM. Sunday at 4 PM (so you can be home in time for the SUPERBOWL!).

PLEASE COME IF YOU CAN. And if you can't -- who can BLAME you, really? But I'll be there, sharpening my knives and talking about bunnies.


Yours,

C.S.E. Cooney

Here's the INFO:

GEOPOLIS THEATER COMPANY PROUDLY PRESENTS: FLYING SOLO

An Evening of Solo Performances Accompanied By Live Music and Wine

Location: 1016 W Belmont, Chicago, Illinois, The Japanese Culture Center, second floor

Prices: $5 online, $7 at the door, $1 glasses of wine To reserve tickets, please go http://www.brownpapertickets.com/event/97355 and receive a voucher for a free glass of wine. You may also buy tickets at the door

Dates: Saturday, February 6th 2010 at 8pm, and Sunday February 7th 2010 at 4pm.

NOTE TIME CHANGE: Come pregame for the Super Bowl with us! 4pm performance includes complimentary Super Bowl snacks and $1 beers. Also, join us at Bridget McNeill's after the performance for a free drink with your Flying Solo program!

The cast includes

Jon Beal
C. S. E. Cooney
Dree Elfring
Shelley Elaine Geiszler
Meredith Hogeland
Lori Lewis
Cameron Peart
Brandon Thompson

The Saturday show includes $1 glasses of wine, and the Sunday show includes $1 beers and complimentary Super Bowl snacks. Join us after the Sunday show for the Super Bowl at Bridget McNeill’s, located at 420 W. Belmont. By attending the Sunday performance, you will receive a drink ticket for one free drink of your choice at Bridget McNeills (only valid 2/7/10). Music provided by local artist Mario Di Sandro of The Last Chivalrist.

Solo performance is the individual art of story telling from personal experience. Each performance ranges from 3 to 5 minutes in length, and can include props and music. Each performer has written and edited their own piece with the help of their other cast mates.

Geopolis Theater Company is dedicated to telling the enriching and diverse stories of other cultures. Each production season focuses on a different culture, and the 2009-2010 season follows the stories and lifestyles of Japan, particularly post World War II Japan. By telling these stories, Geopolis hopes their audiences will become more globally-cognizant, and discover ways to relate to a culture that was once unfamiliar. For more information, please visit http://www.geopolistheater.com.

*****Upon entering The Japanese Culture Center, please remove your shoes and place them in the cubbies. This is a traditional sign of respect for the Dojo.*****

S.J. Tucker and Kevin Wiley will be at my mother's house in Phoenix in a few hours, and I shall not be there to greet them.

S.J. Tucker and my brother Jeremy will share a concert tomorrow night, and I will not be there to hear them.

There will be hugs and music and a mingling of friends and family and bright colors and laughter and patter and flirting, and I will not be there to strew ROSE PETALS AROUND LIKE CONFETTI.

Damn it.

But isn't life beautiful? And won't they all just LOVE each other SO? And won't my mother take such care of them? And won't they call her Mama Sita like we do, and isn't it EXCITING?

It's exciting.

Life on the Sun.

I am listening to the audiobook of _Ladies of Grace Adieu._ Again. Although I can't remember if I finished it the last time. Now I am SURE I will, if only to thwart myself.

There is some flaw or contrariness in my nature, for I set out this morning DETERMINED to read Cormac McCarthy's _The Road_, even to the point of PUTTING IT IN MY BACKPACK!

But then, without quite meaning to, I wandered over to my desk where my cracked little iPod (which is really an iPhone, but doesn't work as an iPhone; it belonged to my brother and when it cracked, he sent it to me, so I could use it for an iPod - being unable to afford the phone/internet services it offers... *pants*) sat in its cradle, and then, cheerfully humming, I slung it into a little burgundy velvet purse to protect it from further shatterings, put on my boots and swung out the door.

I did this, KNOWING all the while that since I have a Susannah Clarke taste in my mouth from finishing_Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell_ last night, if I HAD the iPod, I would CERTAINLY listen to _Ladies of Grace Adieu_ and NOT read _The Road_.

Which is what happened.

***

Last night, instead of writing, I watched CORALINE.

I've been wanting to see it since I heard they were making it. I've not read it for at least a year, maybe two, so I was far from married to the text. I enjoyed it.

That said, the book was funnier, scarier and definitely Britisher than the movie.

That said, I DID like Coraline's blue hair.
And The Other Mother was a horror.

The scariest scene in the book, to me, was when she goes down into the basement, and The Other Father is there, only turned into a moaning doughy blob. Basements are scary anyway, and that particular blobbish monster, with his moanings and whumpings in the dark, in a confined space, was terrifying.

A bulldozer and a garden full of glowy snapdragons just doesn't compare.

The flashy buttons were flashsome and frightening.

I didn't mind the neighbor kid. I could see why they put him there, so that Coraline would have someone to INTERACT with, since most of the book, she's on her own, thinking thoughts.

Still, I hope someday they make a movie that taps the heart of the book a little more bloodily. What's his name could do it. Del Toro. Guillermo Del Toro. Or, even better, Hettie Macdonald, who directed the Doctor Who episode "Blink." Heck, Stephen Moffat could write the screenplay!

***

Further ideas for casting _Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell_:

CHILDERMASS: Clive Owen

(Okay, so maybe sometimes he's kind of a poseur, but he was EXCELLENT in _Gosford Park_, and I'll always love him for _Greenfingers_, AND he knows how to look dangerous and sarcastic and still).

That means Ioan Gruffudd can still play the Raven King. (((RAVEN KING! O RAVEN KING! Big ol' Raven King crush comin' your way on the C.S.E. Cooney Express Train...)))

STEPHEN BLACK: Don Cheadle!!! Lenny Henry??? Michael Obiora??!!??

***

'Swhere I'm at.

Upcoming performances Saturday and Sunday. Tech tomorrow night. Must learn how to sharpen a knife.

Tinkered with The Big Bah-Ha this morning. Was just getting into it but it was time to go.

***

Woke up at 4 AM saying these words: "What's the opposite of a Firebird?"

And immediately imagined a silver bird growing colder and colder until it shattered into a million shards of ice. And reformed from them.

Oh, sevenravens! How I do adore not only you, but THIS POST OF YOURS!

***

I finished beta-reading Cat Valente's DEATHLESS last night.
I am almost finished re-reading Strange and Norrell.
Tonight, I will write.

WRITE WRITE WRITE!

Ahem.

No power in the 'Verse can stop me.

Awesome new WRITING EXERCISE POSTING PLACE THINGY:

http://www.verbhounds.com/training-exercise-1/

Okay.

tithenai gave me the name "Ire-Claw" and I went ahead and posted in the Comments section.

Ha. Weird. Took a while to get warmed up, but it was BULLY when I did.

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0468500/

GUESS IT'S IN THE AIR!!!

Almost done reading DEATHLESS. 30 pages to go. Beautiful things tumbling in my brain. The email grows.

***

Okay. So. My train book is a re-reading of "Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell." 'cause I was jealous of Fetch's fresh shiny new perspective of it, and it's been several years for me, and I couldn't remember how the book ENDED, only particular plot points and character descriptions... Like the gentleman with the thistledown hair, and Strange's long nose, and Norrell's... pitiable evil.

And Fetch MAY have a big crush on Childermass, but I have a BIGGER crush on the Raven King, and now I can't remember if maybe they're the same person? And does Stephen Black end up being King of Lost-hope? Right now he's just moping a great deal. But... is that what happens? I remember there was a tower. And that I didn't really like Mrs. Strange's final plot-knot - that it made me sad. Or mad. Or both. Which means it was probably a good way to knot it, only it wasn't the HAPPY way to knot it.

But oh, I AM enjoying the re-read. Muchly! I don't think I paid John Segundus much attention before, but now I think I'd like to take him out to dinner.

Mrs. Strange just died. Or the black brackish moss-log did. Or whatever it was called. Bet Fetch liked THAT scene, as it involved a bog. That's where I'm at.

And MAYBE Fetch should read THIS BOOK, and that will take the cranky right outta her pants. (Her words, not mine.) And eat a cookie. And know she is LOVED.

***

In the meantime, I've been idly and pleasurably occupied with casting "Strange and Norrel" the mini-series.

NORRELL: Paul Giamatti
STRANGE: JJ Feild (or David Tennant? Maybe not. Maybe so. I dunno.)
CHILDERMASS: ? (has to be AWESOME... See Raven King casting?)
ARABELLA STRANGE: Anna Maxwell Martin
LADY POLE: Romola Garai
SEGUNDUS: ? (someone who looks Italian, and gentle, but who's INTERESTING)
Mr. Honey-whatsis: ? (suggestion welcome)
WALTER POLE: Stephen Fry
Lord of Lost-hope: Jonathan Rhys Meyers
Raven King: Ioan Gruffudd (who, if they end up being the same person, which is the THING I CAN'T REMEMBER, could ALSO play Childermass.)

Well. I'm not serious about it. But feel free to contest, to add, to bat dreamy eyes at the idea with me.

***

I had a lovely time watching CARNIVALE with Karin and Katie. Karin and I ate at The Olive Garden, too, and moved furniture. And bunnies. I slept on her couch and felt very warm and safe. Then Katie and I fulfilled our wildest Ethiopian food cravings at "The Diamond" on Broadway, and went to Be-Bye-Baby and looked at all sorts of diapers and slings. Then ate dessert at a bakery called DINKLES. Which was amazing. If anyone ever comes to visit me in Chicago, we will go to Dinkles. It is off the Paulina Brown Line. Remind me.

Stayed up late reading "Deathless." Not finished, but! Much further along!
Began the massive beginnings of a massiver email to author, yuki_onna.
Met Baba Yaga. AND a dragon.

The whole thing should be a symphony, really.
Not that it shouldn't be a novel. But someone should write a symphony about the novel. (s00j!) With lots of violas and oboes. And then all those Moscow-trained ballerinas can torture themselves en pointe to usher her vision in. Industrialized faerie tales. Magic and communism. Imagine the rifle-imp! And the costumes!

Had dreams full of water buckets and uncut jewels.
Did no writing.
Answered no phone calls.

Did leave a LONG song-message to Mir, in which I sang her "Magic To Do" from Pippin and expostulated on her various perfections. She requested such treatment; she has an audition tomorrow, and she wanted a long message from me to listen to before she went in.

Tonight - Lake Zurich.
Tomorrow - singing at the craquelure of dawn.
Tomorrow afternoon - Woodstock and Karin. We will watch CARNIVALE, SEASON ONE, and Nin will join us. And LASAGNA. Maybe.

Monday: Katie wants Ethiopian food before giving birth. We'll do that. And maybe some thrift shopping. And maybe those waterproof cloth diapery things.

I would REALLY LIKE TO WRITE, EVERYBODY!

Just sayin's all. Monday night. Possibly tomorrow afternoon, between everything.

That's when I can do anything. In between.

Also, a week from today is the Flying Solo show. I'm memorized. But I haven't yet practiced with the knife. MUST DO! Things tend to slip...

I'd also like to read "Lieutenant Nun: Transvestite in the New World." One of the first autobiographies by a woman. A woman named Catalina de Erauso.

Let me introduce you to CATALINA DE ERAUSO. As I just was.

The irrepressible Ms. Erauso "escaped from a Basque convent... was a soldier in the Spanish army... became a gambler, and even mistakenly shot her own brother in a duel..." and became "the adored folkloric hero of the Spanish-speaking world."

Please. Let. Me. Own. This. Book.

Or perhaps the library has it.

If I buy it from OUR bookstore, what if I just take it home and never read it?

I will put it on my hold shelf.

With the other 15 books there.

BOOKS I WOULD LIKE TO READ:

*Orlando Furioso, by Ariosto (recommended by jamesenge for lady knights)

*The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian, by Sherman Alexie (it's ALEXIE! I have loved everything else he's written!!!)

*Year of Wonders, by Geraldine Brooks (plague book; should probably watch "Outbreak" as companion movie, no? pattytempleton recommended latter)

*Assassination Vacation, by Sarah Vowell (love the premise; she talks about Sondheim in intro.)

*East of Eden, by Hemingway (recommended by Mrs. Q, said there was a horrid female character in it that I'd love to read about)

*The Family Trade, by Charlie Stross (looks interesting)

*Gateway, by Fred Pohl (recommended by Jude for good sci-fi)

*The Road, by Cormac McCarthy (recommended and BOUGHT for me years ago and I STILL haven't read it)

*The Postman, by David Brin (recommended by andelku)

*Interfictions 2 (a birthday present. And I've got friends in it. So I ought.)

***

TO FINISH READING

*"Beowulf and Grendel" -- return to Coal
*"Best of Gene Wolfe" -- on principle, and because it makes me aware of a certain kind of mastery over short stories. Which I don't got.

That seems enough for the month of February, right? Maybe even March? Let the Sharon Shinn frenzy rest for another year? Yes? Please?

***

TO RE-READ:

Grimm's Fairy Tales. Been TOO DANG LONG since I did that properly.
Also, collected Hans Christian Anderson.

TO LUST AFTER WITHOUT RESPITE:

If I could ONLY get my hands on THIS, then I would be a very happy girl. I want to read the WHOLE tale of Agneta and the Sea-King. And who knows what ELSE might lie in these pages? Plus, John Bauer's illustrations? YES, PLEASE... Maybe the library?

***

Oh.
Pay library fines.
Return that $#@!& audio book.

***

But first! First, ladies and gentlemen, I need to finish beta reading a certain yuki_onna's book. Which tastes better than red velvet cake and hot chocolate laced with Bailey's Irish Cream. Thing is, I only have it on my computer. Which makes reading it difficult and headachey, even with the best of intentions.

WORTH IT, THO'! That will be my priority. Before the end of January.

***

TO WRITE:
The Big Bah-Ha (revisions... Submit by February 14th... Happy Valentine's Day, Flabberghast. Weird Tales first, I think. And then onward, onward, onward...)

Gentle Perfect Knight (finish first draft, start another, mess around with title, etc)

Miscellaneous Stones: Assassin (last November's novel. MUST REWRITE! Then learn how to shop for agents! Have submittable draft by... End of July. July 31st. How's THAT for a goal?)

***
TO BUY
Bike helmet and chain.
Then start biking to train station.
Save a lot of money on train fare.
Exercise.
This can only be to the good.

***

Yeah. I mean. Do these fall under the category of resolutions? I should maybe have done this a month ago, but I just didn't FEEL like it.

... That my writing is like a Michael Kaluta painting. So that's cool.

:(

Or at least not by its proper name:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Labrys

But then a lady came in wearing them for earrings and 'splained the significance. So that's cool. Her mother, Sue, was wearing Labyrinth earrings. We talked about Waldorf Schools and Montessori and autism and New Mexico. I guess that goes without saying.

The Washington Post has just informed me.

I hated Catcher in the Rye in high school.

I read 9 Stories reluctantly (after graduating college) and agreed they were pretty dang good.

Then, last year, I read Franny and Zooey and I wept.

So. Thank you, Mr. Salinger. I'll reread "Catcher" one day and probably revise my opinion. Not that you ever cared for my opinion.

And... I hope you thought life was worth it. You know. Everything.

'Kay. So. They're going slowly. The re-writes. I can't tell if it's dense or delicious. Both probably. Stick in your teeth and give you cavities. Think it's going in the wrong direction, but can't tell 'til the whole thing lies before me. Then I will run at it with my bull horns and shatter upon its strange pages. But first, more delicately, I will chisel.

No fair keeping word count for re-writes. Not even tryin'.

***

The dish was good, but not excellent. Then again, I think one can safely say that about ANY cooking for oneself VS. eating the cooking of others. Always tastes better when someone ELSE does it.

Got Fetch's cookies. Made Fetch some cookies.

Mrs. Lovett to Sweeney Todd: "Hope your teeth's strong."

IN MAIL TODAY!

***

Tried Amal's tea last night. Her own mix, she said. Not the Kama Sutra mix, though. Am saving that for special occasion. One with music. But her mix was like drinking a campfire below the Milky Way's parade. Reminded me of El Malpais, the Badlands of New Mexico, which are beautiful and volcanic and mysterious and hide secret green glaciers underneath a stretch of rocky wasteland. It was not... a sweet tea. Not an easy tea. But an adventurous tea. A gypsy astronaut cowgirl's tea. I liked.

***

Patty-Hawk and I decided last night that were there ever a parallel universe to appear that allowed two straight white wimmin in Chicago to produce a hillbilly girlchild out of kitchen conjuring and a few dirty jokes, that girlchild's name would be "Molasses Anne Templeton-Cooney" and we'd call her "Sassy-Anne" for short.

That's all.

The book "Casanova's Women: The Great Seducer and the Women He Loved" just came in, and I'm looking at the pictures -- because OBVIOUSLY I'm not going to read it, even though I want to...

And there are pictures of all kinds of women, all ages, from the noble nuns of Venice, to the 17 year old daughter of a great actress, to this very cheeky lady on her harpsichord. Polyxene. She's my favorite. Although it's her sister Adelaide (who also looks arch and mischievous, but quieter than young Polyxene) who is purported to be Casanova's "great love."

I like their faces. Casanova had good taste. Even the Marquise D'Urfe with the fish eyes and the big nose. Looks like she had... GUMPTION! Hee hee.

... And if Casanova looked ANYTHING like Heath Ledger's portrayal of him, I'd've frolicked about my nunnery with him too. Ahem.