Entry Two - Some Brainstorming

The sun shines through one window in my room every morning and hits me directly in the face. Being in the path of a direct sliver of the sun at least once a day seems to me, a good thing... A moment when it seems to be poking me, specifically, on the shoulder - 

“Hey – I’m here, what you up to?”

To be honest, I’m glad the holidays are over. The week was too filled with parties and festivities to be very productive.  Still, I’ve had some ideas for the play swirling around in my head.

Two Specifically… Asides and Still Photographs. 

Since the book is multiple 1^st person, I thought that theatrical asides – where the character directly addresses the audience – may work.  (Knowing that a little bit goes a long way when you’re using asides and monologues.) Ida, Trudy and Peggy all have some fun observations that may not be easily accessible through the action of the play.

“A woman over the age of forty shouldn't wear a ponytail, ever.” --- Ida Pico

“They’re pretty and all, but the number of angels that girl had in her house at any given moment was downright apocalyptic.”  ---- Trudy McAllister

“All those church folks act like sex is the worst sin there is. But you go down to a strip club in Memphis or a Holy Ghost revival in Jonesboro and tell me one ain’t just another way of saying the other. People's got needs that's gonna get met.”  ----Leon McAllister

“Before choir practice last week, Belle had confessed to me that she listened to every word of Brother Neil’s sermons with an enthusiasm that bordered on arousal. I admitted I found myself using the program as a fan more than I was entirely comfortable with. At every Baptist Young Women’s meeting, we couldn’t help but note Brother Neil’s sensitivity and sincere devotion to the Lord. It had inspired each of us to take up the cause of Christ with more fervor than ever before. LeAnn Hester had started a new Lottie Moon soup can drive. Tammie Johnston was going door to door witnessing to migrant farm workers down by the river. Even Rhonda Mason had volunteered the use of her van to pick up retarded children and bring them to church every Sunday. And everyone knew how ticky Rhonda was about her upholstery, what with the drooling and all.”   --- Peggy Leggett

“As we passed, the men’s eyes fell to the floor, one after the other like a line of soldiers drawing down their swords at the sight of her grief. After a while, like it usually did at times like that, came stories of other days and other people, lost and gone. Whenever a lull came up in the ceremony at V.R.'s, and make no mistake that's what it was, somebody else would kick in. Later, on the porch across the railroad tracks, I could still see the light from the store and the stark shadows cast from inside. Like most of their kind, the men of Lost Cain grieved only through laughter. Sitting there in the quiet of the front porch with the baby in my arms, I could hear them well into the night and it comforted me.”  ---- Trudy McAllister

“As much as I loved Lost Cain, the attitude toward anything or anyone different was downright shameful. As individuals, the people were as generous loving and kind as any you’d find in this world. However, we were a southern state and had all the baggage that came with our geography.” –--- Mrs. Odell Brinkley

The idea of freezing the background scene during moments like these – like a photograph - as one particular character does an aside seems interesting. 

In my mind, I picture the birth scene - Brucie’s arms lifting the baby into the air (too Lion-King?) and the ladies all gathered around the porch. Mrs. Brinkley, in her Sunday-best, does an aside.  “Absolutely enthralled, I took one step and then another, toward them, my new white satin pumps sinking in the freshly turned dirt of the flower garden. Honestly, I tried to pull myself away, But I just couldn’t.” 

Everyone else frozen in place, like an old black and white photo while Mrs. B moves toward the baby.  “My heart lept with so much excitement that I feared it would burst.”  As she’s saying this she moves through the “photo” until the earth quakes and Lola reaches out and pulls her back into the scene as the chaos continues.

This got me to thinking about a possible recurring motif of still images throughout the play and singular characters moving within them. There are several possibilities with the church and the river.  BUT – I’m not going to get too caught up in technical possibilities just yet.  Next week I’ll start mapping out several structural outlines and see what is calling to me the most…

For now, it’s back to some reading…

Today’s focus – reading some scenes from Moliere, Goethe, Wilde and Ibsen. Covering the Six Elements of Drama: Conflict, Characters, Complications, Crisis, Catastrophe, and Conclusion. Monday writer fun…: )