This weekend I saw Twelfth Night at Bard on the Beach and learned several things.
- Two hours on a glorified folding chair is too long even when the show is amazing. (My apologies to those behind me who had to endure me fidgeting.)
- Spas are, and apparently always have been, the best place on earth.
- Bare bums get a laugh every time.
FYI the show was great and I’ll totally go again. (I’m bringing a cushion next time…no I don’t care how it makes me look…it’s too late to look young and hip when you pull your groceries home in an Aquafresh coloured cart.)
Jonathon Young played the fool and I can’t wait to see him do Hamlet. (FYI, huge geek that I am, I can’t stop thinking of him as Tesla from Sanctuary. Seriously we walked out saying “I can’t wait to see Tesla play Hamlet.)
Sadly, despite a wonderfully inspiring show, I didn’t write much on the weekend. I did think a lot, about adding tension to my writing and complicating plot, that counts as productive time right?
(There’s nothing like a good mistaken identify show to prove how entertaining plot complications can be.) I also came up with a great new character, a youngish guy who decides to memorize all the sexual references in Shakespeare’s plays and then try to work them into conversion. I don’t know which story he’ll call home yet but I already love hating him. Maybe writing his story will get me out of my procrastination cycle…
In high school one of my favourite assignments in English class was to write in a new style. I liked the challenge of fitting words into prescribed patters and still having them make sense. I also thought that if there was a pattern then there must be a sure road to success and the “right answer”. (Little did I know.) So today, in deference to the Bard, try your hand at iambic pentameter. (Bonus points for working in a hard chair or bare bottoms.) Happy writing.