Weekend Update

It's been over a week since I checked in... and, as usual, I've been busy.

I spent the holiday sifting out a bunch of activities, but, lo and behold, I've managed to add a bunch of other activities in just as swiftly. I've set up and opened an art gallery show, developed two college courses--one in-class, one online--and I've started on a new theatrical journey with my two little ones. 

Believe it or not (for those of you who've been checking in some lately), my brave little son sang well enough that he's been cast as OLIVER TWIST. Yup, he was floored, amazed, and a bit overwhelmed at first--as was I--but we're settling into this new evening pattern of rehearsals and singing and practicing lines. Kind of cool, actually. Nope, it's flat out AWESOME! This is the beginning of a long-running involvement in theatre for him, I think. Even better, my daughter has found her place in the company, and I have a part, too, so we all get to attend rehearsals together. 

I'm also about to attack the project of costuming the show--hurray! Costuming is my favorite kind of sewing, and the added bonus of outfitting Dickens' characters doesn't hurt, either. It'll take some time and prep, but it's going to be truly fun as I work through it.

Plus, I'm gearing up to work again on my spirit book, and I'm in the cogitation stage for a whole series of novels set here in Bainbridge. The research I do for this other book will be helpful in creating the atmosphere of the series, and I hope to eventually do a great deal to add to the tourism possible in this particular area. 

I'll let you know how it all goes. I know it sounds ambitious, but I can't help that. My life is too short not to get stuff done.

Anything ambitious on your plate lately?

Advent Calendar--December 15

Think I'm a skinflint, do you?
Think I'm the worst of the worst?
More devil than human?
Beyond recall?

Don't be fooled
Don't believe for a moment
That I'm the only one
For Dickens designed me from you

I'm the you that won't give
The you that seeks money more than meaning
The you with no time for others
No mercy, no sympathy, no sacrifice

I am Everyman
With one exception:
I have learned my lesson in the end
Learned to let go of avarice and love my fellow man.

Have you?

Who am I?

Writing Questions

Since I want to know all of these questions from you, I'll ask them of myself first:

1. Whose writing does your own most resemble?

Answer: My writing is probably most similar to Shannon Hale's YA lit.

2. Which writer's writing and revising habits does your method most resemble?

Answer: Gustav Flaubert. He'd work and rework a sentence for a month to make it right. I tend to revise my stuff eleventy-seven times before I find myself willing to send it out to anywhere really important.

3. Of past writers, which do you wish you had been in another life?

Answer: I wouldn't wish to live their lives (none were that happy), but I wish I'd written Shakespeare's stuff (obviously!)... if not his, then Austen's, Dickens's, or Chaucer's (even the bawdy ones). I'd also love to have written Hawthorne's novels.

And now, your answers...

Even More Advice from David Copperfield

I've interspersed some rather lovely advice from David Copperfield with some horrid whinings of my own, but--thank goodness for you--it's time for more Copperfield again.

This little tidbit comes from the littlest tidbit of the novel, a super tiny dwarf named Miss Mowcher, who spends a few scenes flirting around with men and entertaining while David looks on. David doesn't take a liking to her, but once a mutual friend shows his true colors (I'd tell you who, and what he does, but that would spoil the story), she reveals she had no part in the deception, and shows she's as true a person as anyone, but has had to put on a show of sorts because of her chromosomal condition. 

She tells him she has no choice but to act as she does just so that she can survive in a world where she is deemed to be so different (because so small), and she promises to do all she can to help remedy the situation, even though she is not the cause. And as she leaves David, she tells him:

You are a young man.... Take a word of advice, even from three foot 

nothing. Try not to associate bodily defects [Dickens' words, not mine] with

mental, my good friend, except for solid reason.

You see, even though she was small and not the standard of beauty, her heart and mind were good. And even though the friend who had betrayed them both was very handsome and seemed kind, he was truly a selfish, egotistical user. 

This reminds me of a story I was told about the film Tootsie. Artists spent hours on Dustin Hoffman's make-up, but when they showed him the product, he thought they were kidding. He said something like, "Why don't you make me pretty?" and the make-up artists told him that was as pretty as he was going to get. Hoffman was deeply affected by this, for it suddenly occurred to him how many women he had passed by, had ignored, because they didn't fit his standard of beauty. And yet, dressed as a woman, he was the very kind of woman who would have been ignored. (If you haven't seen this movie, it's really very good. Bill Murray alone makes it worth watching, but Hoffman is also spectacular). 

I know what it's like to be passed over. It still happens to me, and has ever since I can remember. Yet I also know, with a sinking in my gut, that I have done the same to others. I have judged on looks alone, and I am a lesser person for having done so. I've likely missed out on some pretty spectacular people. 

Blind! Blind! Blind!

This next little bit of David Copperfield pith is from Chapter 35, and, surprisingly, the advice is not direct. David is in love with a silly, vacuous little girl named Dora, who gets him all hot and bothered every time she shakes her curls at him, but who seems intellectually incapable of being serious for a single minute of her life. 

He has just been expounding on the greatness of Dora to his wonderful friend Agnes, whom he grew up with, to an extent, and we readers have all figured out by now that he's infatuated with the wrong girl--and only later does he figure this out, long after he had married and settled down with Dora. As he is walking out the door...oh, well, I should really let Dickens describe it:

...Oh, Agnes, sister of my boyhood, if I had known then, 

what I knew long afterwards--

There was a beggar in the street, when I went down; 

and as I turned my head towards the window thinking of 

her calm seraphic eyes, he made me start by muttering,

as if he were an echo of the morning:

"Blind! Blind! Blind!"

In that one moment, when David was about to make a huge mistake, there was a portent, out of the blue, frightening him out of his stupidity, telling him how blind he was.

It may sound creepy to you, but don't you wish you had a portent, somebody who could hop out of a back alley at you, shouting, "Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!" when you are about to commit a huge mistake, or yelling "Cop! Cop! Cop!" when a policeman's sitting around the bend with a radar gun? 

Of course, what did David do with the portent? He ignored it. Only long afterwards did the scene occur to him, far too late to have done anything about it. Perhaps those same portents shout at us, but we ignore them, too, and keep heading headlong into the messes we create for ourselves. 

If only we'd listen!

More Advice from David Copperfield

I know it's been a while since my last David Copperfield post, but I promised you more good advice from Dickens' memorable characters. I am not quite finished with my rereading, but I have a great bit of gold from David Copperfield's great aunt Betsy Trotwood. She is a lady who made a notable appearance as David's mother was in labor with him, and she sat by patiently, waiting for her beloved "niece" to be born. When she found out it was a boy--David--she left without another word, and she didn't appear in the story again until David, friendless, hopeless, a starving runaway, shows up on her doorstep, filthy and looking just as much a boy as before.

But she doesn't walk away from him the second time, although she does take to calling him Trotwood Copperfield instead of David. She learns a great deal from this young man, even in her old age. And when he is about to set off into the world, she gives him some advice in return. She says, "Never... be mean in anything; never be false; never be cruel. Avoid those three vices, Trot, and I can always be hopeful of you."

Now, all I can wish is that every parent and guardian gave his or her children the same advice, that the world taught its kids to be kind, to be true, and to cause happiness instead of pain to those around them. Think of how different the world would be if we lived like this. War would be impossible, for no one would knowingly intend harm to anyone else. Gossip would be unacceptable, for if one began sniping about someone else, those who heard the snipe would refuse to take part. 

Would all sadness cease? No, of course not. We would still do stupid things. We would still make mistakes. But instead of laughing at someone we accidently knocked to the ground, we'd hold out a hand and apologize, and we'd truly be sorry we'd hurt them. 

This advice has caused me to do all kinds of nice things just over the last week. I took my kids to the library today, even though I didn't have time (they were almost teary from the books they found). I saved the last piece of carrot cake for my husband (and I really wanted it, too). It made me sign three people into one of my day classes even though I only had room for one (I just couldn't turn the other two down!). 

I still have much to learn from this little kernel of wisdom. I should paint it on the walls of my office, so that I can read it through every day. I'd be a better person if I did.

The Wisdom of Wilkins Micawber

*Before I get into today's blog--I have an update from yesterday's: It seems the little boy I mentioned refused to go to school at all, and he actually started hyperventilating at the prospect of another day there. Not great news. The mother doesn't know how she's going to pull this off.*

Now to today's:  

I've been reading--well, re-reading for the third time--Charles Dickens' David Copperfield, my favorite of his books, and the most autobiographical of any of them. (Please don't tell me I don't have time to do this. I know. I'm at expert at filling my life with tons of projects I have no time for). 

Anyway, the characters are eccentric and funny, disturbingly real and joyous (no wonder I like them), and they are also full of good advice. One such lovely character is that of Wilkins Micawber, a man fashioned after Dickens' own father. David Copperfield lives as a boarder in this man's house for about a year, and when Micawber is about to move away, he gives him two pieces of great advice. Here's the first:

My advice is, never do tomorrow what you can do today. 

Procrastination is the thief of time. Collar him! (p. 230)

Who knew that Micawber and I agreed on this. It's the reason I make obsessive lists, the reason I work hard every single day, blogging here before I've even dressed for the day, grading papers at the first opportunity, using every second of the day to do something useful and creative. But what happens if we procrastinate? I know exactly what happens, at least for me: the waiting projects loom over me, weighing me down, waking me in the middle of the night. Stuff undone undoes me, and my life is harder because of the put off tasks, not easier. 

Now to Micawber's other piece of advice, one most Americans could very well pay attention to:

Annual income twenty pounds, annual expenditure nineteen, 

nineteen and six, result happiness. Annual income twenty 

pounds, annual expenditure twenty pounds ought and six, 

result misery. The blossom is blighted, the leaf is withered, 

the god of day goes down upon the dreary scene, and -- and 

in short you are for ever floored. As I am!   (p. 231)

Obviously, Americans are not paid in pounds, nor are they likely to earn only the equivalent of twenty, but the point is still the same: live within your means, and you will have peace of mind, security, and resulting "happiness." Live beyond your means, and accumulate debt more and more each year, and your stress will grow with it, it will pull from future income, and you will be in "misery." In this case, Wilkins Micawber knew the truth of this because he lived it, spending months at a time in debtor's prison because he didn't live within his means, even while his wife was nursing twins and his family were starving.

I could rant about this for a while, but I won't. The quotes pretty much speak for themselves. I'll have more kernels of truth next time, different advice from another unusual character.