That Fateful Moment When It All Comes Crashing Down: MIDDLEMARCH, p. 72

The old dotard Casaubon (HOW, self asks, how does one pronounce that simply ridiculous name?) has taken his future bride, Dorothea, to his rather meager estate (Remember Dorothea turned down a proposal from a young and attractive baronet, Sir James Chattam, in order to assert her preference for the much older and much sillier Casaubon). In the distance, they espy a figure, that of a young man lost in thought, wandering around with a sketchbook.

Dear blog readers, when a young man appears, attached to the estate of the much older man, and this older man is a silly and benighted person, who is bringing his young future bride for a first glimpse of his new home, there is only one way this can go down: Think Tennessee Williams. Faster than self can say “Desire Under the Elms,” Dorothea and her betrothed approach (What really clinches the deal is that the young man is toting around a sketchbook. Artists are crrrrazy. Crrrrazy attractive. Just ask the Bronte sisters)

Here is what transpires:

The young man had laid down his sketch-book and risen. His bushy light-brown curls (Think of Samson in the Old Testament! The appeal of the hair!), as well as his youthfulness, identified him at once . . .

“Dorothea, let me introduce to you my cousin, Mr. Ladislaw. Will, this is Miss Brooke.” (And what person can withstand a young man named Will? Certainly not self, who just this year fell in love with Will Herondale from Cassandra Clare’s Victorian Steampunk trilogy, The Infernal Devices!)

The cousin was so close now that, when he lifted his hat, Dorothea could see a pair of gray eyes rather near together, a delicate irregular nose (like Tom Hiddleston’s? The guy who plays Loki in those Thor movies?) with a little ripple in it (like Owen Wilson’s?), and hair falling backward . . . Young Ladislaw did not think it necessary to smile, as if he were charmed to this introduction to his future second cousin and her relatives, but wore rather a pouting air of discontent. (Heathcliff! Oh where art thou, Heathcliff!)

“You are an artist, I see . . . “

And self will pause here. Right here. So she can drive dear blog readers crazy with anticipation.

Stay tuned.

Victory: WordPress Daily Post Photo Challenge

From Krista on The Daily Post:

  • . . . I got the chance to test myself, and this time, I won.
  • In your photo this week, focus on the win, the victory — that moment of glory and pride you’ll remember forever.

Wow, what a grrrreat theme!

Looking back on 2015, here are three pictures that represent self’s small victories:

Self was in Florence! As 2015 began, she could never have imagined she’d end the year going there. And having tremendous fun. And loving the city. Here’s a picture of her, on the last night of her trip:

You did it, self! You did it! You accepted your niece's invitation, decided you did have the energy for just one more trip, and ended up falling in love with the city and its people!

You did it, self! You did it! You accepted your niece’s invitation, decided you did have the energy for just one more trip, and ended up falling in love with the city and its people!

Self never imagined, either, that she’d be back in Venice. But here she and her niece were, getting off at the train station in Ferrovia, and waiting for a vaporetto to take them to San Marco Square:

Ferrovia, Venice: All trains to Venice stop here. The last time self was in Venice was spring 2013, with Margarita Donnelly, her friend and mentor at Calyx Press. Margarita passed away December 2014.

Ferrovia, Venice: All trains to Venice stop here. The last time self was in Venice was spring 2013, with Margarita Donnelly, her friend and mentor at Calyx Press. Margarita passed away December 2014.

The one day she and her niece spent in Venice (Only two hours by fast train from Florence), the sun was shining, and San Marco Square was thronged with people. What grace! What a blessing! To be there again, and happy!

San Marco Square, Venice, Saturday Afternoon, November 2015

San Marco Square, Venice, Saturday Afternoon, November 2015

Of course she has to go back. Of course she will go back. She didn’t love Venice when she left in 2013. Or maybe she loved it but she didn’t know it yet.

Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.

State of Self’s Novel-in-Progress

Self spent most of this year working on a novel about an 18th century priest who gets sent to a Philippine island to fight demons. It’s at 185 pages and she was extremely discouraged yesterday, thinking she probably had twice that many pages to write before she really knew what it was she wanted to say.

Then she went into one of her bookmarked food blogs, Kahakai Kitchen. And there is a review there of a novel called Water on the Moon, which is 244 pages. Hmmm, self thought: 244 pages seems do-able, at least it does to self. It would mean she only has to get 60 more pages in, and then she can review what her manuscript feels like.

Here’s the synopsis of Water on the Moon (Publisher: She Writes Press):

When her husband comes out as gay and an airplane crash inexplicably destroys her home, the mother of teenage twin daughters must rethink everything she knows.

In her debut novel, Water on the Moon, Jean P. Moore introduces readers to Lidia Raven, whose life begins taking seemingly endless wrong turns. Lidia and her girls miraculously survive the plane crash that destroys their home and are taken in by Lidia’s friend Polly, a neighbor with a robust collection of first-edition books who lives alone on a sprawling estate.

Struggling to cope with each of these life-changing events, Lidia discovers a connection between herself and Tina Calderara, the pilot who crashed into their home. In the months that follow, Lidia plunges into a mystery that upends every aspect of her life.

Dun Dun Dun! Sounds pretty interesting!

Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.

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