Day 14

PONYO PONYO PONYO PONYO PONYO PONYO PONYO!!!!

(and Time Traveler's Wife, I suppose)

PONYO PONYO PONYO PONYO PONYO PONYO PONYO!!!!

Can you tell I'm excited? Now, it looks downright adorable-tastic, and It's Miyazaki's latest to come to the US. I'm a bit of a Miyazaki buff. I think I've seen most of his work. My Neighbor Totoro, Porco Rosso, Kiki's Delivery Service... I think I'll list all the ones I can think of that I've seen.

Princess Mononoke
Spirited Away
Castle in the Sky
Howl's Moving Castle
Whispers of the Heart (I saw it when I was staying in Tokyo a few years ago)
The Cat Returns (it has Carey Elwes, a.k.a. Dread Pirate Westley in it. The original sexyvoice.)
Nausicaa

And I just went to Wikipedia, and there's SO MUCH MORE I HAVEN'T SEEN.

I saw his picture. He looks like a grandfatherly type. I skimmed through some of the influences in his work, but I want to read more about it.

Going to the movies in a few hours. First double-feature I've ever been to, which is kind of sad. I've never seen two movies in a row, and I've never stayed up all night long. My roomie last semester, M, who is a total night owl sleep-till-dinner type, was shocked and appalled when I let that slip.

Oh, wait... I DID stay up all night once. I couldn't sleep, and wrote a lovely poem about insomnia. Wanna read it? Too bad, here it is.



Insomnia

The quiet alertness
A tightness behind my eyes
Maddening stillness
It’s a peculiar thing, really.
The knowledge that everything is still and away
The feeling of being left
Neglected by Morpheus.
There’s a stiffness in lying still.
A tenseness in keeping eyes closed.
Eyes perpetually half-open.
Limbs content to stay where they are.
Yet the mind is big and wide and open and cold and clear.
A clear blue sky
With thoughts buzzing through every which way.
What should I have for breakfast?
What time is it?
What was that noise?
What should I do tomorrow?
Is it tomorrow?
They get tangled together.
Ribbons and ribbons of mind-workings all wound up in a ball
And it pulls at itself until it rips apart again.

The ending sounds abrupt because I can't figure out how to end it. My creative writing teacher in fall semester last year said 'never try to round it up if you can't find an ending'. I wrote a steampunk poem which I'm rather proud of, and the first draft's ending was awkward. That's when I learned about poetry. Coincidentally enough, that same class was the one when I first got the idea for my novel. I love my novel. I love my characters, my places, my storyline. The problem is that I'm afraid to show it to people to be critiqued. I mean, it's my baby. What if they don't like it?

Also, I've had writers' block for months. See, here's how I write. I write like I'm making a necklace. I have an idea for a great little bit, and I string some pretty little phrases together, and then I think of another little bit, and I string some more on a separate chain, and then, maybe, I'm struck with inspiration, and I can find a little bit that ties two of the chains together. Get it? Maybe? No? Well, too bad.

I just realized that I need to make a few more things happen in the story. There's so much to do, and I'm not sure how to do it. Maybe Vad will offer critiques on it for me. That would be lovely.

I'm taking my laptop in the car with me, so when we get to Cokersan's house after the double feature, I'll update and tell you how AWESOME Ponyo was. And TTW, I suppose. Not looking forward to that at all.