Saturday, December 28, 2002

A few more days till 2003. Is anybody still arguing whether we're going to call these the aughts or the ohs? How dumb.

Miserable rainy. The gas heater is blowing. K is curled up on the couch with a mug of ice cream (he prefers such to a bowl) and a gigantic novel, Infinite Jest, the surface of which he's barely scratched. Every time he sees Oldest Living Confederate Widow Tells All on my pile of books he says, "You should read that." I am reading it. The writing is good but I can never get past more than a handful of pages.

I'm a member of the International Wizard of Oz Club. Have been for 20 years now. Unless I've forgotten to pay my dues. Have I paid my dues this year? There's a new L. Frank Baum biography which the library rec'd. I checked it out and have been sitting on it, now I find some other patron has put a hold on it. Should I hand it in, get it some other time, or should I power through it? What new will I learn? A few months ago I read Michael Patrick Hearn's revised millennium edition of The Annotated Wizard of Oz which included a substantial biographical introduction.

I ought to post a link to my published Oz story, the "novel" Eric Shanower and I wrote together. He published it in the last issue of his OzStory Magazine. For the longest time I resisted any suggestion of publication without major revision, claiming artistic integrity. But, prodded, I finally read the manuscript with a fresh eye, ready to follow the story rather than fixate on the hassles of the making, and it's a story. Trot of Oz. Trot is a little girl. Baum tried to get away from writing Oz books for awhile and used the character Trot and her old guardian Cap'n Bill in a couple non-Oz fantasies. When the books didn't sell Baum brought the characters to Oz. There are only a handful of major characters who haven't had a book named after them so Eric and I, when deciding to write an Oz book together (I wrote the odd numbered chapters), chose to give Trot her own book. We wanted her part in the story to be pivotal. It is. But, boy, did Eric and I get wrapped up in some mythological & sci-fi mumbo-jumbo. Works OK. So long as you're distracted by incident.

Last night Kent & I went to San Francisco (we live in Berkeley) to Teatro ZinZanni, a sort of dinner theatre cabaret-circus. God, it was a gas. K became part of the show when the master of ceremonies asked for a volunteer who could juggle. K ended up juggling an uncooked chicken, a loaf of Wonder Bread wadded into a ball, and a tub of Country Crock margarine scooped out of the container and rounded in the hand. He did so well the man at the next table leaned over to me and said, "Is he a plant?" "It's his birthday," I said. When the man looked at me as though that wasn't an answer I said, "He hasn't juggled in a long time." Expensive? Definitely! But a great evening.

No comments: