Sunday, February 20, 2005
Viewings And Arthur Miller
Viewing day - again.
I slept till mid-morning and boy did I need it. Gail had taken Laura to her dance exams so I had my breakfast and got on with doing up the house - again - for viewing. Last Thursday we never had any viewers, which was disappointing, so we are thinking about putting on a closing date before moving to a fixed price. Both these measures should stimulate buyers into making an offer if they are genuinely interested. Time ticks on and the last thing we need is to be paying two mortgages.
That's tomorrow's plan – but today there were no viewers yet again. Disappointing but not the end of the world as I had to keep telling Gail.
While we waited in vain, I caught up with all my friend's blogs and logged into my writer's group. My detachment from life was highlighted when I read that Arthur Miller died last week. I don't remember seeing it on the news or in any papers, which I am very surprised about.
I remembering reading the script for Death of a Salesman back in High School. It had an effect on me such that before reading it, I never thought I would ever be interested in plays, or trying to understand the depth of writing and human emotion that is possible through writing. I remember it being a sad, yet strangely uplifting experience as the class worked its way through the book.
Years later, the film was broadcast on terrestrial television and I taped it for safekeeping. Every now and then I watch it and listen to the script unfolding. It’s all in the script for me and not so much in the actors. I think it would be better as a radio play actually, but it always brings back memories and tugs at my heartstrings.
Thinking about it now, I think it may have been the same year we also read One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich by Alexander Solzhenitsyn. These two books combined, influenced me more than I realised at the time and I always look back fondly on the way they were taught to me and how it was possible to take so much out of a book more than just pure flashing entertainment. They had meaning and purpose and reason and perhaps, had I not read them, I wouldn't understand the value of a good book – or good writing – to this day.
Once the viewing was over I started work on dinner; warm baguettes with grilled chicken, mayo, rocket and sprinkled with extra virgin olive oil. Delicious!
Into the evening and I got time to write out my notes I took down on my audio recorder on yesterday’s trip to George Street. By the time I finished writing out the notes I had ten pages of transcript so it took me most of the night to transfer and expand on them into useable form for Hunting Jack.
The whole exercise proved to be very useful. Not only has it made the whole location firmly detailed and familiar in my mind’s eye, but it also threw up several great ideas that can be incorporated into the story.
I slept till mid-morning and boy did I need it. Gail had taken Laura to her dance exams so I had my breakfast and got on with doing up the house - again - for viewing. Last Thursday we never had any viewers, which was disappointing, so we are thinking about putting on a closing date before moving to a fixed price. Both these measures should stimulate buyers into making an offer if they are genuinely interested. Time ticks on and the last thing we need is to be paying two mortgages.
That's tomorrow's plan – but today there were no viewers yet again. Disappointing but not the end of the world as I had to keep telling Gail.
While we waited in vain, I caught up with all my friend's blogs and logged into my writer's group. My detachment from life was highlighted when I read that Arthur Miller died last week. I don't remember seeing it on the news or in any papers, which I am very surprised about.
I remembering reading the script for Death of a Salesman back in High School. It had an effect on me such that before reading it, I never thought I would ever be interested in plays, or trying to understand the depth of writing and human emotion that is possible through writing. I remember it being a sad, yet strangely uplifting experience as the class worked its way through the book.
Years later, the film was broadcast on terrestrial television and I taped it for safekeeping. Every now and then I watch it and listen to the script unfolding. It’s all in the script for me and not so much in the actors. I think it would be better as a radio play actually, but it always brings back memories and tugs at my heartstrings.
Thinking about it now, I think it may have been the same year we also read One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich by Alexander Solzhenitsyn. These two books combined, influenced me more than I realised at the time and I always look back fondly on the way they were taught to me and how it was possible to take so much out of a book more than just pure flashing entertainment. They had meaning and purpose and reason and perhaps, had I not read them, I wouldn't understand the value of a good book – or good writing – to this day.
Once the viewing was over I started work on dinner; warm baguettes with grilled chicken, mayo, rocket and sprinkled with extra virgin olive oil. Delicious!
Into the evening and I got time to write out my notes I took down on my audio recorder on yesterday’s trip to George Street. By the time I finished writing out the notes I had ten pages of transcript so it took me most of the night to transfer and expand on them into useable form for Hunting Jack.
The whole exercise proved to be very useful. Not only has it made the whole location firmly detailed and familiar in my mind’s eye, but it also threw up several great ideas that can be incorporated into the story.
Colin 10:31 pm