1000 Days

“Stranger Than Fiction” with Will Farrell, Maggie Gyllenhall, Emma Thompson, Dustin Hoffman, Queen Latifah, and–look for him–Tom Hulce is done well.

Before I internally remarked on the plot, theme, tone, acting, humor, or whatever one might normally consider first, I thought, all these actors should be pleased. The smoothly done quirk and humor permeates the film. Acting, story, scene, and on-screen graphics blended.

It amazes me that this movie faired poorly at the box office. Didn’t it?

I suspect the trailer gave viewers the impression that the concept would drive the plot in a direction that skewed toward farce. Stranger instead grounds it’s humor in smart writing and enjoyable thinking. The almost unexpected ending picks up every bread crumb dropped along the way. Tight, tidy, elegant.

Everyone of the characters is kooky in a way that makes you think they might not be kooky at all. Emma’s frustrated author I would be happy to see again.

After my first bonus post last night I was expecting to rock the keyboard this morning with competence and verve.

I won’t regale you with the whiny Dad events, suffice to say there were events and they were Dad-like in relevance.

Let’s give it a try…

Originally uploaded by serni

Think of the most improbable place people could live then skip two to the right and you have the ah’Taconschientee or in the suffixial patois, Shanty.

From a distance, Shanty gleams like a melting drip of a dragonfly’s eye. Nearer you make out the honeycomb of confetti-like solex clinging together and glistening in the sea sun. This could be a stalactite or an icicle.

You trim your flit to hover in a more or less safe zone back from the congested hive of flits, hangers, and sticks swooping and, well, flitting to and from Shanty. It is not hard to swap your fellow fliers for wasps and Shanty for the papery nest. The rear fans of your flit sense your curiosity and wind up a degree. You drift toward Shanty’s center of gravity.

You’re a killer. You have business here. Deadly business.

You chuckle at the melodrama and unzip your jacket to expose your décolletage.

I really do love the morning.

The trouble is that it comes so early in the day.

For writing it’s great.  For this daily journal it’s been suitable.

Being so close to the start of the work day puts pressure on wrapping up faster than I would like.  I suppose I could use that force as encouragement to get to the point.  To not dawdle on the page.

In the past I have operated well under such limits.  Though well should be understood to mean that I have always completed a task.  I have not always produced quality.

Other concerns I am having are for the production of quantity.  I need to get used to churning out page counts and not just paragraph counts.