Sunday, October 23, 2005

Vaudeville killed the opera star

I appear to becoming obsessive about small town details. Apparently there used to be opera houses, even two sometimes, in most small towns in the Midwest in the late 1800’s. Vaudeville killed these, the entertainment changing dramatically. Vaudeville killed the opera star… Evolution. Anyhow, some towns are not trying to refurbish these locations. They were most often on the second floor of a downtown building. The woman that told me about this said her town’s opera house was on the second floor over a hardware store. Ching, ching. This has to be worked into my story somehow. And also outdoors hot tubs. They are quite common in small towns now too. Groups of teenagers take full advantage of the qualities that are most intense about them. Or at least in this one specific town, where many of my characters seem to have arisen. The two sisters will need to have one. So they can watch the character “manage” his mannequins sometimes even in his hearse. (True story)

It really is amazing. The common general consensus is that small town living is the cornerstone of this country. But if the town I have heard about is any indication, then this country is quite um… screwed up to put it politely. I am just amazed that something that is generally considered the foundation of this nation and votes red in droves, really would shock the Republican mindset if that behavior were made public. It really is amusing to me. People around here think that city living is rife with crime, and inappropriate behavior, but no, not really compared to their own “small town” behavior.

People are equally screwed up everywhere. I don’t think location really matters. Is amused again. So much to work with, fodder, fodder everywhere.

Yesterday, I wrote the police scene with young, ever-growing evil, Chad. I will have to work on this. I haven’t had much experience dealing with police matters, so I hope there is at least a little bit of realism within the scene. I have dealt with crisis intervention, so I worked from that perspective. But then again, I haven’t dealt with drunken children, mannequin-loving postal workers, or testicle eating either, and that hasn’t kept me from writing about it.

I worry about the absurdity of all of this, but I realize that is absurd too. If I can manage to actually do this, I hope it works out in a way that isn’t so absurd.

My husband tells people now, who ask him what his wife does, that she is writing a novel. Dumbstruck now. Pressure too. Oh well, that is fine. I will keep that away, because that sort of pressure, pride, is not needed. I haven’t even called it a novel yet. But it is nice to see someone other than myself take it seriously. Makes it feel a little more real maybe. Not just me typing away in my basement office.

Thanks for reading, and have a great day!

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