Winter Movie Time, y'all!

The Fictionista


It’s that time of year again. 

Not the Holidays!

It’s winter movie time!!

After a summer of big blockbusters that were long on plot, short on character development, we reach the time of the year when the studios bring out the big guns. Award season is just around the corner, (award fashions!!!) and studios want members to see their favorites before they begin voting.

Here’s a list of movies I’m looking forward to:

The Hunger Games-Catching Fire: Read and loved the books and enjoyed the first movie. I’ve heard the second is even better and I can’t wait to see Jennifer Lawrence kick some ass.

Out of the Furnace: The commercials for that movie scare me. That’s a place I would never want to be stranded. I don’t care if Zoe Saldana is there or not.

American Hustle: Great actors in decked out in 70s disco gear? I’m so there.

In the next few weeks, with family visiting and school-less kids, you’ll want a break from all the “togetherness.” J Go see a movie. Get a bucket of popcorn, x-tra butter (holiday calories don’t count), a cherry cola Icee and immerse yourself in a visual treat.

What movies are you looking forward to?

Here’s wishing you and yours a safe and loving holiday season!

Tracey Livesay's debut novel, The Billionaire's Socialite Bride, will be published by Entangled Publishing in February 2014.  She blogs here on the third Monday of every month. If you like the flavor she's bringing, you can check out her blog, Mimosas at Midnight or Like her Facebook page.

Why Lois Doesn't See Superman ... And You Don't, Either

I haven’t seen any of the new Superman movies. I am willing to admit that there were four Superman movies, but none of them was made in the 21^st century. As far as I am concerned, there is only one Superman, and the fact that there have been two new Supermen in as many movies … I think that makes my case.

For me, the story of Superman as it appears in film is the story of Lois Lane. Margot Kidder’s Lois Lane made me want to be a reporter, the only one of my childhood when-I-grow-up fantasies I actually pursued. I spent four years in the exciting world of newspaper journalism. Lois was my idol – the spirit of “wherever it breaks, whatever it takes.” I can’t say I actually got to be Lois; my world was far less exciting and utterly devoid of Superman. But I tried hard to be Lois Lane for four years, and I had a great time doing it.

It is usually about here that someone mentions that Lois spent all those years right next to Clark without knowing he was Superman. I can’t argue with that. But I can explain it.

It makes sense to me that Lois was slow to see that Clark was Superman, but I’ll go a little farther than that. I think each of us has had a similar experience. That’s because the most effective secret identities, while they are created by the superhero, are actually maintained by the rest of us. We are doing most of the work.

I feel guilty telling you how this works. Once you see the Superman beside you, your world is going to change in a way you can’t take back. But I can’t help myself.

Lois doesn’t see that Clark is Superman because when she looks at Clark, she can only see Clark. Clark is shorter than Superman. He’s soft-spoken. He’s a little naïve. Good Lord, look at those glasses.

But most importantly, Clark carries around this protective shield of Dorkiness that proclaims him Not Superman. The shield is so effective that she could take those glasses off and look him in the eye and still think, “No. What was I thinking? He’s not Superman.” That’s how it starts.

Clark is set in Lois’s mind as Not Superman. And so it doesn’t matter that Clark – timid, nervous, far from bulletproof (as far as she knows) Clark – once stepped firmly between Lois and the mugger’s pistol. She only sees Not Superman. So what if Clark recited the exact contents of her purse moments later? Clark is Not Superman. It doesn’t matter that Clark and Superman are never in the same place at the same time because Clark is Not Superman.

Similarly, in Lois’s mind, Superman is Not Clark. When Superman catches her as she falls from the top of the Daily Planet building – and then he catches the helicopter falling right behind her – Lois isn’t paying any attention to the fact that Superman looks an awful lot like Clark without the glasses. No way this guy, who leaves her speechless and lightheaded, is Clark. The man who flies her from Metropolis to New York and back again is absolutely Not Clark. (How far is Metropolis from New York? I imagine it’s a short trip if you’re flying.) Clark’s convenient appearance on Lois’s doorstep seconds after Superman leaves only cements things in Lois’s head. Clark is Not Superman.

If she stopped long enough to challenge this in her mind – something Lois finally does in the Donner Director’s Edition of Superman II – she would see that she’s been right next to Superman for a pretty long time. But let’s be fair. How often do any of us stop to challenge the things that are set so firmly in our minds?

Seriously, look around. Every day, I look at the people on my day job and smile to myself. I imagine that they see me as Not Erotic Romance Author. And I wonder how far off the mark my own preconceptions are. Not Musician. Not Triathlete. Not State Trooper.

My day job is great for this, by the way – I’ve met a musician, a triathlete and a state trooper, and I wouldn’t have guessed any of that to look at them.

Here’s a challenge for this month. Look around at those closest to you. Ask yourself what you’re not seeing. And remember that Superman might be right next to you, behind the protective shield of Dorkiness.

Alexa Day’s Illicit Impulse is a Top Pick at Night Owl Reviews. She’s hard at work on her next story, but you can keep up with her on the first Wednesday of the month, right here, on her own site, and on Facebook or Twitter. See you there!

Rejuv-i-lation. Is it a word? Is now.

We are the wordsmiths, the makers of words which form our reality, thus, I have made it a word. (Look at me getting all philosophical at 9:30 in the morning.)

Allow me to veer from my usual topic of books, movies, movies, books to talk about just books... and just one book... and on the heels of Alexa's fabulous post that reminds us all to take time to rejuvenate... one particular book that will be born post "Rejuv-i-lation Weekend".

I throw down the gauntlet. (I would never dream of throwing down a gauntlet in challenge to you. Your gauntlet would get all dirty, so no gauntlet throwing at you.) I'm throwing down the gauntlet at myself. You see, life here is crazy, as I am sure it is for everyone, but I'm suffering my own ridiculous brand of self-imposed crazy which entails family, homeschooling, home renovations, pressure to complete aforementioned home renovations by the end of the month, (self-imposed pressure), AND the pressure to complete another book on "schedule". Again, this is a self-imposed schedule. (Publish or Perish.)

So I hereby declare this weekend "Rejuv-i-lation Weekend"!!!

This is the weekend during which I house sit for a friend, locking myself into her lovely mountain top home, and I write a book, (actually, only half of a book), in FIVE DAYS!!!! Do what? Yes, you read that right. I propose completing a partially written book - to write a fresh 120 pages - join that to the existing 100 pages,  fix all the badness happening there in the saggy middle, and crank out this little yelpy puppy.

So there will be no books, movies, movies, books for me this weekend. There's just one book... and me... in a cabin atop a mountain... and one cat... and a book signing thrown in there in the middle....

If you'd like to get a feel for how "Rejuv-i-lation Weekend" is going, feel free to come by the booksigning at Cascades Library in Potomac Falls, VA. It's all going down this Saturday... and if you like, we can chat books, movies, movies, books... and rejuv-i-lation.

How Much do I Love October? Let Me Count the Ways...

When I think of October, I don't think of Halloween and scary things. At least, not at first. The month of October holds an entirely different meaning for me.

First, and most important, one of my kids was born in October, so I always think in amazement how much time has passed, remember that child as a baby, think about what I was doing before I went into labor and look forward to the awesome party I'll throw and gifts I'll buy.

That should be reason enough to love the month of October, but it's only the top of my list.

I love October because its the start of Fall, my favorite season. It's a beautiful environment, the changing colors of the foliage a glorious backdrop to the sunny, crisp and cool weather. Perfect for rocking calf-high books with jeans and a classic cardigan.


October is also a great time in the world of entertainment. By the first week of October, most of the new shows on TV have premiered and I've added some gems to my repertoire. "Oscar bait" movies start showing up in theaters; smartly-written compelling dramas that my hubby and I thoroughly enjoy. And every good Fictionista knows what the start of award show season means:  Red Carpet fashions!! :-)

And let's not forget about the food. Ever walk past a house in October only to stop in your tracks at the tempting smells of homemade pumpkin and apple pies? The mouth-watering aromas of cinnamon and nutmeg drawing you to their source like fingers of smoke in an old Looney Tunes cartoon? Pumpkin bread, muffins, donuts, apple fritters, in addition to the scrumptious offerings of gourmet coffees, pumpkin lattes and salted caramel mochas. My lips and hips clearly have different feelings about my favorite season. :-)

Some people think of spring as a time of renewal, growth and progress, but I'd much rather "fall back" {see what I did there} into October.

What do you look forward to in October?

Tracey Livesay
True Love in black & white
www.traceylivesay.com
Mimosas at Midnight
Twitter: @tlivesay
Facebook: TraceyLivesayAuthor

Best Damn Book I've Ever Seen: Jane Eyre!

by Sofie Couch

Back-to-School? I didn't know we ever left.

School – It Ain’t What it Used to Be. I’ve been doing the college search thing with my oldest child, driving insane distances to have a gander at schools that I know won’t be a good fit for my bohemian girl. I already know they’re too lock-step for her, but we make the trek, groan over the costs, dream about the ones we/she can’t afford… dream about a college that we design...

But there’s an alternative on the horizon. I won’t go into great detail, because I believe one of my fellow-W3ers is going to tell you all about the phenom, but let me just insert here, college classes, free, through www.coursera.org. ‘Nough said. Go check it out. (I’m currently taking the SF/Fantasy class with the aforementioned W3er and it is a hoot!)

Here on the chicken ranch,

 we lead a pretty fringe existence. Our kids, 16 and 13 yrs. old, don’t go to school. What? Nope. We homeschool. Rather, we don’t even homeschool. We do something even more fringe in that we “un-school”. There is no curriculum. The kids follow their own interests and I just sort of seed their environment with the resources they may need to help them along their way. What does a typical day look like here? Typical? What’s that?

Some days we stay in our jammies and read. Some days we all go swimming. Most days, my son plays with other unschooling gamers on-line, sharing game cheats and things called mods, and skins, and something called “easter eggs”, while my daughter pursues her dream of becoming an architect. (We just got back from Biltmore Estate where we took the “architects’ tour”. Fabulous!)

Or we watch movies. It’s election season, so we’re currently watching re-runs (for me they’re re-runs,) of West Wing and we just scored tickets to hear President Obama speak in our hometown.

But just a short while ago, we, (the kids and I,) did a Jane Eyre marathon and this brings me back on point:

“Best Damn Book I’ve Ever Seen”

This month, I take a poke at Jane Eyre, the book and all of the many permutations of the moviessssss!

There is little left to the imagination in this book, although you might want to take a bite out of the sequel, WIDE SARGASSO SEA by Jean Rhys. Told in the voice of the first Mrs. Rochester as well as Edward Rochester, it is a fabulous take on Mr. Rochester’s dark side.

However, for the sake of this month’s topic, I refrain and stick to Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte. It is written in third person, and told through narration by the main character. The reader has little need to doubt the veracity of the narrator. In other words, what she says is taken at face value. And thus, have all of the movie renditions portrayed the same story. There are wonderful movie adaptations, each one choosing some minor scenes to include or delete, (although personally, I feel the version starring Zelah Clark and Timothy Dalton, directed by Julian Amyes, is the most complete version. Despite the poor video quality and a poorly concealed migrating zit that becomes mesmerizingly distracting, it is still my favorite version.)

In essence, all of the movie versions recount the same story. However, the version, by director, Cary Fukunaga,  shakes things up a bit in that it alters the order of events, beginning at a point near the end, and ending at the, er, end.

Why? Well, one possible reason is because the book, as it was written, would fail to make it past the editor’s slush pile if written today. There’re the 50 pages of backstory – Jane’s childhood of oppression – for starters, which is no way to start a mainstream movie. There’s the irredeemably damaged hero for seconds, and finally, there’s the ending of convenience, (worthy of an entire paragraph all to itself.)

In particular, the last quarter of the book, (SPOILER, SPOILER, SPOILER,)  after Jane has left the home of Mr. Rochester, a series of convenient events occur. 1) Jane, upon fleeing Mr. Rochester, happens upon a rescuer 2) her rescuer(s are saddened to learn that their uncle has died and left them only enough money to purchase mourning rings, 3) Jane learns that she inherits a fortune from an uncle who has just died, and 4) by the transitive property of equality, Jane finds out she is first cousin to her rescuer, (who, by the way, wants to marry her. Ewww.) Oh yeah, and 5) when she returns to the home of Mr. Rochester an “independent woman of means”, his crazy wife has conveniently cacked herself, leaving them free to live happily-ever-after.

But you know what? I don’t care. This book was the book that made the difference between my being a non-reader vs. a reader, a writer rather than an illiterate. It is a romance that endures, a classic that set a tone, pushing the envelope, creating a hero who was more than moderately flawed. Mr. Darcy might have had pride, but Mr. Rochester, he’s got balls.

That’s me hushing up about Jane Eyre, the BEST DAMN BOOK I’ve ever seen… or read… or inhaled. I’ll be taking a hiatus from WEST WING for a while to get caught up on some assignments for my coursera class. And along those lines, next month’s blog contribution will discuss one of the books I just read for the class, and a brief discussion of the movie version: Mary Shelley’s FRANKENSTEIN. And might I just make a suggestion? If you decide to read the book or re-read the book, will you consider this what-if? WHAT IF Victor Frankenstein suffers from split personality disorder as a result of his inability to accept his own homosexuality? See if that puts a different spin on your reading! Until next month… Sit back and crack open a good movie/book/book/movie.

www.sofiecouch.com