Musings

I’m closing in on the end of the Wild Card Interstitial story, and the desperate lunge for the credits or The End has begun. I find that as I approach the end of a book or script or story I become more and more frenzied. Maybe because every choice has been made, all the threads have been gathered and braided and now it just playing it out. Last night I wanted to jot down just one more line of dialogue and I ended up writing until 12:30 am. I don’t normally write well at night. I’m a morning person.

Which during the hot summer months puts my job in direct conflict with my hobby. I need to ride the horse early, and that’s when I do my best writing. I just need to muddle through the next two months and it will start to cool off.

Do other people find this to be the case? Or do some writers slow down because it’s all going to be over soon and you’ll be saying farewell to the people who have inhabited your life and your head for a year or more?

Melinda

I was catching up on the Entertainment Weekly Magazine and they were ranking the 25 best action movies of all time. Curious, I flipped to that page, and (though I’m embarrassed to admit it), yes, I had seen every movie on the list save one. I missed THE WILD BUNCH. I must commend the editors of EW because they agreed with me on the first two spots. Number one DIE HARD, number two, ALIENS. I guess I really am the action chick but I love this stuff.

I will go see art films — THE PIANIST, THE PIANO, PAN’S LABYRINTH, THE HISTORY BOYS, but I’m a sucker for a well done action film. The problem with most of them is that they have begun to forget the script and characters and try to pull it off by relying solely on special effects.

And yes, come Monday (my social calendar is full for the weekend) I’m heading out to see the new Die Hard movie, and I’ll probably see TRANSFORMERS unless the reviews just slag it. I’ll clense my pallette with Surf’s Up and Ratatouille, but it’s hot outside and it’s time for BDF (Big Dumb Fun), and blowing up sh** real good.

Melinda

I’m wrestling with a decision about Pi. He’s a sweetheart with really nice gaits, but my new coach sat me down and gave me the “come to Jesus” talk about his prospects. She told me he is too slow behind to ever be a grand prix horse. (Slow behind means he’s not quick with his hind legs and he has a hard time dropping his haunches which is a requirement for an upper level horse). After riding grand prix I’m finding it really hard to go back to third and fourth level, and when I thought I could train Pi to the upper levels I was willing to hurt my body on the training. But if he can’t do the work I’ve got to decide what to do.

My coach thinks he would make a great hunter horse and if I can get enough money I could buy a new horse that can do the upper level work. A horse like, oh, say, Dream Weaver. I’m going to ride the stallion again this week, and see if I can tolerate his trot. He has a rather vertical trot, and I had to have surgery for a stress tumor. I’ve got to make sure this trot isn’t going to cause another tumor to form. Or it could just be that my left seat bone has no soft tissue around the bone any longer.

It’s hard to sell an animal with whom you’ve bonded, but he might be happier with another rider doing the kind of work that is appropriate for his gaits and talents.

Melinda

I wanted to tell folks that the pictures of me riding Pi are now up in the photo gallery. You can see my big boy with his silly long head and funny blaze.

Melinda

It’s very frustrating for me to try and explain an extremely complex system of American jurisprudence which doesn’t rest just on a single document — The Constitution — to people who weren’t trained in this tradition. Simplistic arguments about “democracy” miss the point of the governmental system that was envisioned during the 18th century. The Constitution is not meant to be a document that enshrines democracy. It’s genius rests in the system of checks and balances. The House was always meant to be the brawling, more “democratic” branch of government, but it has to work in concert with the more conservative, staid Senate whose function was to temper the hot enthusiams of the House. Congress in general was meant to act as a brake on the power of the executive — a branch of the government that left many of the framers deeply uncomfortable. There was even discussion not to have an executive or to keep the position merely ceremonial. Of course the present Congress has done a piss poor job of reining in excesses by the Executive, but we can hope that will change.

And then there was the Court system. It was specifially designed to be the _least_ democratic of the three branches of government. One of its functions was to protect minorities against the power and passions of the majority and to check the power of the other two branches.

There have been many statements made that are, if not out and out wrong, suspect in their interpretation of certain events in American history. I am considering printing out this thread and having a guest essay written by Mr. Ragsdale who is a brilliant legal scholar and an authority on the Constitution.

But since this is my blog I hereby decree that this discussion is concluded.

Melinda

It was back up to Farmington on Thursday, but it was bearable because I treated myself to two nights a day in Regina. The summer heat has arrived and it was a bit breathless in the late afternoon in the small cabin, but I wrote a great deal on my Wild Cards story, and took several long walks. The wild iris are gone. Only the spears remain like green knives at the edges of the now sluggishly flowing water. But in their place have come the wild roses. They cluster near the water, low rambling bushes covered with riotious small pale pink blossoms. Their scent is intoxicating. There is something lovely about the perfectly furled petals of a tea rose, but the wild roses seem to be screaming for the bees to notice them as they fill the air with their scent.

Because of the wet winter and spring the cactus are all blooming. The prickly pear sport pale yellow flowers with touches of orange. There was one tiny barrel cactus with two star shaped purple flowers. The mosquitos were every where, but my body chemistry doesn’t seem to attract them. They swarmed, but only one landed and tried to bite.

I watered the plants in the green house and harvested a bumper crop of snow peas and the lettuce. Fortunately I caught the lettuce before it went to seed heads so it may produce a bit longer. It may be the days are now too warm.

I need to win the lottery or create a television show that actually makes it onto the air and runs a few seasons so I can buy this magical place. I would keep it as my retreat and upon my death I’d leave it in trust as a writer’s retreat and workshop site. I would never want to see the sweep of the valley dotted with dozens of cabins as people seek the rural life and therefore ruin it.

Melinda

I just got off the phone with my old law professor and dear friend, Fred Ragsdale. Some of the comments had set me thinking about the Court and I knew Fred would be able to help me organize my thoughts. Fred is the literally the most brilliant person I know. He writes constitutions for emerging nations, and is often called upon for his expertise on Constitutional issues.

At any rate he said that this argument that the Court should not “legislate from the bench” is essentially incorrect. (Let me also say that Fred is a Republican not a gooey liberal like me.) He pointed out that the Court was applying strict constructionist standards when they ruled in the Plessy case. They applied the law as written rather than seeing if the law actually met the standards required by the 14th Amendment. He also made the point that when the Court gets it wrong these decisions are always reversed by a later court.

So, back to why the Court _should_ legislate. There are certain issues that are so divisive and difficult that state legislatures and Congress are unwilling to deal with them. The members lack the will to go against the strong feeling of their constituents lest they not get reelected, and so the issues will not be resolved. But when you are appointed to the bench for life such concerns no longer affect you. Fred talked about Brown vs. Board of Education. This was an issue that was not going to be resolved by state legislatures, certainly in the southern states, or by Congress and so the Court stepped in.

As to the issue of gay rights. Marriage has traditionally been left to the states so the Court will probably not rule on the 14th Amendment issue, but where they will start to force at least acceptance is with the Full Faith and Credit clause of the Constitution. In other words, a marriage that is legal in Boston or Trenton N.J. will ultimately have to be recognized by Arizona or Alabama. There is an exception to the full faith and credit clause when something offends the public norm, but he feels the gay rights issue will not reach that threshold. Here was some of Fred’s analysis as to why that is the case: If you can guarantee the exact same rights that are bestowed by marriage by the preparation of numerous legal documents in all fifty states — then there is nothing essentially unique about “marriage” in the civil sense.

Melinda

Went out with George and Carl to see the FANTASTIC FOUR last night. It was far better than I expected. The first film had been so dreadful. Jennifer Alba still can’t act, and the ages are wrong for Johnny and Reed, but it was fun. Especially when they were a great disfuctional family. The effects for the Silver Surfer were lovely. Basically an hour and a half that was quite entertaining.

The boys both grew up reading the comic and love the characters. Since there was a lot of by-play between the team they were deeply contented. Occasionally the dialogue became pretty bombastic and heavy handed, but not between the foursome so I only groaned a few times. I recommend it as Big Dump Fun. Frankly I found it far more enjoyable than Spiderman 3. Perhaps because my expectation were high for Spidey and pretty low for Fanatastic Four.

Melinda

Wanted to post about a couple of books I’m reading. BREAKING THE SPELL by Daniel Dennent is a philosophical and evolutionary look at religion as a natural phenomenon. It’s very readable and accessable, but the really fun book is Christopher Hitchens GOD IS NOT GREAT. I kept giggling on the plane during the flight home because he is so marvelously witty and vicious. They are research for the book series I’m writing and for once not a dry tome.

Today was spent watching Lauren ride Pi, and this woman from back east who is looking for a horse threw a leg over him. Tomorrow I get a chance to ride DreamWeaver and I’m going to ride Pi. I’ll be nice and tired and sore after a two weeks of not riding. There is something about this sport that has you out of shape in a week. Which sort of sucks.

I finished off the afternoon with retail therapy. I’ve found a great store with wonderful clothes, and I picked up a couple of more outfits today. I tend to just live in jeans or riding pants, but it’s fun to have some pretty tops, embroidered jeans and a great jacket.

Melinda

I had a break from Farmington this week so I could go to Los Angeles again. I got the call from the manager on Friday night so there wasn’t really time to drive. I grabbed a ticket on Southwest, landed a room at my favorite hotel (The Beverly Garland) and gagged because it was summer rates, and to add insult to injury they charge more for a non-smoking room. I spent the weekend preparing a one page pitch document for the TV series that my manager and I had cooked up, and then I started rehearshing the pitch for the Wild Cards movie. I hadn’t done it in about six weeks and you lose the flow.

I went out on Tuesday afternoon even though my meeting wasn’t until Thursday morning. On my way to the airport in Albuqerque I stopped in Bernalillo to have lunch with a representative of Wassach energy the company that purchases Western’s gas. Rob is a very nice man, and it was just a meet and greet, but I think I’ve made a little girl in Utah very happy. Rob was mentioning that his nine year old daughter loves to ride, and he was going to have her share their neighbors horse. I told him to buy her a horse, and gave him the ultimate pitch to fathers of daughters. Girls who get deeply involved with horses don’t get deeply involved with boys until they are late in their teens. I saw him musing about that, and then he said, “I need to talk to my wife about this.” Then it was off to the indignity that is flying today.

I’m not a fussy person, but I confess looking at all these bare feet in front of me I couldn’t help but wonder what germs were being shared by hundreds and hundreds of people as we react to a past threat when the terrorists are going to be thinking of a new way to try and kill people.

On Tuesday night I went out to celebrate my friend Len Wiens birthday. (Yes, that Len Wien, creator of Wolverine, Swamp Thing, etc. etc.) Wednesday I alternated between practicing the pitch and writing the Wild Card story with a little time spent fleshing out the characters for the TV series. Then it was show time. I got up really early on Thursday and left an hour before the meeting. I only had to go over Laurel Canyon and a little way down Sunset Boulevard, but it took _an hour_. I was sweating bullets because I absolutely hate to be late, but I managed to walk into the offices of Temple Hill at one minute past nine. One of the partners in the company is a big Wild Cards fan so I focused my attention on the other partner who didn’t know the franchise. Turned out it was a good call — he was the senior guy.

After that I bounced down three floors and worked with my manager on the TV series until he was called into a company meetings. We added a few more characters, and I left him with a stack of books about space stations, and space enterprises. I killed a couple of hours and came back for a lunch with Michael where we spent another two hours talking about the show. He also grilled me on how my writer’s group operates. He says he’s thinking about starting one in L.A. for some of his clients. The fame of Critical Mass spreads ever wider.

Thursday night I went out to dinner with Mike and Cindy Cassutt. Mike and I are working on a movie pitch about a return to the Moon and a forty year old secret. We did some talking about that project, and we went down Ventura Blvd in Studio City for a great Italian dinner. We stopped in a trendy club for drinks, but the airconditioning was set for sub-zero, and we retreated. I was a little disappointed because apparently Matt Damon frequents this watering hole. Of course if Mike, Cindy and I had waited too late we probably wouldn’t have gotten past the velvet rope — too old and not hip enough. While we were waiting for the valet to bring the car we got to watch Starlets on Parade. First a Porsche or a Masarati would pull up. A forty something man with a touch of silver in his perfectly cut hair would hop out and toss the keys to the valet. Then he’d bound around to the passenger side of the expensive car and open the door for a young hottie in a form fitting dress with the hem six inches above her knee.

I came home on Friday after another night of only a few hours of sleep. I’m too keyed up to get my mind to rest so I don’t sleep. Running on adrenaline is fun, but I’m probably going to crash sooner or later.

I should hear something from the guys at Temple Hill Monday or Tuesday. Once again hope is rising. Sometimes I wish I weren’t an optimist. Then the hits might not hurt so much.

Melinda