Tonight I was recalling phrases that didn't make sense to me as a child. My mom commented that she could never understand why her mother told her to eat her vegetables, as there were children starving in China. I got to thinking about some of mine, and I'll share them with you here.
#1. You know that song, "Mairzie Doats?" Well, in case you're not familiar, the first two lines are, "Mairzie Doats and Dozie Doats, and liddle lamsie divy. A kiddledy divy too, wouldn't you?"
I was staying with my sister in Virginia for a time, and we were watching Shari Lewis and Lambchop with her daughter. Let's see, this was about thirteen years ago. Anyway, Shari and Lambchop were singing this song, and I turned to my sister. "Wouldn't I what?"
"E divy," she said, a puzzled look on her face.
"What?"
"E divy."
I threw up my hands. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Tris," she said, with great emphasis on each word, "MARES EAT OATS."
I looked at her, comprehension beginning to dawn. "And . . . does eat oats?"
She nodded, and together we said, triumphantly, "And little lambs eat ivy!" We then collapsed into a fit of giggles.
I finally got it. Yeah, I was smart.
#2. My entire life, I've heard the expression, "Wear clean underwear in case you have an accident." I never understood that caution. If I've had an accident, what does it matter if my underwear were clean to start with?
As I believe I've mentioned, my two-year-old was born via emergency c-section. I go into the exam room and they're getting me up on the table and dressed in a gown, and suddenly, like light shining through a split in the clouds, it came to me. I shouldn't wear clean underwear in case I have an accident; I should wear clean underwear in case I get into an accident. Two such very different meanings. Did I mention I was twenty-eight, nearly twenty-nine, when I had this revelation?
I should probably link this to writing and say that as authors, we should make sure that we always state what we mean clearly, so our readers know exactly what we're getting at. But I'm good with letting this be an expose of my foibles. I'm just glad we all get smarter as we get older.
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
Sunday, February 25, 2007
The Trouble with Speculative Fiction
Like many people, I’m fascinated by the prophecies surrounding the end times of the world. I wonder just how it will all play out, when it will be, and if I’ll be alive when it happens My biggest concern is the amount of actual danger there will be and will my children be old enough to deal with it or will I be facing those dangers with babies in my arms? The scripture says that if you are prepared, you shall not fear, and I believe that, but when you have children, everything changes. Your fear takes on a different dimension because suddenly your greatest priority is someone else, someone who may not understand what is happening around them.
Speculative fiction is selling like it never has before. The closer we come to the Second Coming, the more people want to know about it. Everyone has their theories, of course, and some have expressed those theories in fictional form. They’re quick to explain that they’re in the dark as much as the rest of us are, and are just pulling from the same prophecies we all have plus a healthy dose of imagination. No one knows just when it will happen or how.
The “Left Behind” series takes the Book of Revelation very literally, while other novels take it symbolically. I personally believe that the Book of Revelation is full of symbols that represent things more common to our time. Honestly, if four horsemen were to go galloping across the sky or if we were attacked by a swarm of locusts that looked like women, we’d all sit up and take notice, and yet we are told that most of the inhabitants of the earth will be unaware what is going on. I’m not the authority on that either, but it’s my understanding that John the Revelator was describing what he saw in his own language, and because he was unfamiliar with the inventions of our time, he did the best he could.
Regardless of all this, whether it’s symbolic or literal, whether it happens tomorrow or decades from now, there is one thing that is agreed upon: Christ will return. And that is where speculative fiction falls short of the mark.
Every end times book I’ve read leads up to the Second Coming in a very fascinating way. It’s fun to see how the authors interpret the prophecies and how they choose to fictionalize them. But when Christ appears, the story immediately falls flat. The writing loses its fervor, the words are dull and lifeless. I have not yet read a book describing the appearing of Christ that did it adequately. I don’t think one can be written that can.
Think about it for a minute: The most glorious being, the most perfect, powerful, kind, loving individual, The Son of God. How would you describe Him in any way that would bring Him justice? It can’t be done. You could praise and honor him for thousands of pages of perfect prose, and it still would not be enough. And in His moment of perfect triumph, when He comes to release the entire world from bondage and sin, how could we, as mere people, capture that kind of magnificence? The ultimate crowning capstone of His mission to this earth?
My recommendation to authors who are writing or are contemplating writing an end times book – go for it. But end the story before the actual appearing. Build it up, bring it to a crescendo, and then end it with something like, “The corner of the sky began to lift up” or something equally as indicative of what is to happen next. The reader knows what’s coming; let them savor that in their minds. In this way, the power of your story will remain intact.
Speculative fiction is selling like it never has before. The closer we come to the Second Coming, the more people want to know about it. Everyone has their theories, of course, and some have expressed those theories in fictional form. They’re quick to explain that they’re in the dark as much as the rest of us are, and are just pulling from the same prophecies we all have plus a healthy dose of imagination. No one knows just when it will happen or how.
The “Left Behind” series takes the Book of Revelation very literally, while other novels take it symbolically. I personally believe that the Book of Revelation is full of symbols that represent things more common to our time. Honestly, if four horsemen were to go galloping across the sky or if we were attacked by a swarm of locusts that looked like women, we’d all sit up and take notice, and yet we are told that most of the inhabitants of the earth will be unaware what is going on. I’m not the authority on that either, but it’s my understanding that John the Revelator was describing what he saw in his own language, and because he was unfamiliar with the inventions of our time, he did the best he could.
Regardless of all this, whether it’s symbolic or literal, whether it happens tomorrow or decades from now, there is one thing that is agreed upon: Christ will return. And that is where speculative fiction falls short of the mark.
Every end times book I’ve read leads up to the Second Coming in a very fascinating way. It’s fun to see how the authors interpret the prophecies and how they choose to fictionalize them. But when Christ appears, the story immediately falls flat. The writing loses its fervor, the words are dull and lifeless. I have not yet read a book describing the appearing of Christ that did it adequately. I don’t think one can be written that can.
Think about it for a minute: The most glorious being, the most perfect, powerful, kind, loving individual, The Son of God. How would you describe Him in any way that would bring Him justice? It can’t be done. You could praise and honor him for thousands of pages of perfect prose, and it still would not be enough. And in His moment of perfect triumph, when He comes to release the entire world from bondage and sin, how could we, as mere people, capture that kind of magnificence? The ultimate crowning capstone of His mission to this earth?
My recommendation to authors who are writing or are contemplating writing an end times book – go for it. But end the story before the actual appearing. Build it up, bring it to a crescendo, and then end it with something like, “The corner of the sky began to lift up” or something equally as indicative of what is to happen next. The reader knows what’s coming; let them savor that in their minds. In this way, the power of your story will remain intact.
Saturday, February 24, 2007
LDStorymakers Annual Writers Conference
I'm a member of LDStorymakers, an association of published LDS authors. Four years ago, an idea was born: what if we held a conference to teach aspiring authors how to write? But it wouldn't be just any conference. We would tell our participants how to avoid some of the pitfalls we had encountered on our way to success. We would be available to answer questions. We would make our conference a truly unique experience. And somehow, I ended up in charge of it.
I loved every minute of it. Sure, it was a little hairy at times, getting everything organized. But it came together absolutely beautifully, despite the fact that I was nine weeks pregnant at the time and sick as a dog. I had fabulous help and we all pulled together as a team. The following year, when we decided to do it again, it came off like clockwork.
The third year, I passed on the mantle of leadership to Shirley Bahlmann, who did a wonderful job. We expanded the conference to two days, booked a hotel, and found that we really could improve on perfection. Why did it go so well? I list several reasons:
1. We all worked together to bring it about. While there were persons in charge of different areas, we all pitched in. There were no ego trips or people trying to steal the thunder out from everyone else. We're a team.
2. We love what we do. We love to write, we love to talk about writing, and we love to help other people learn how to write. Throw some chocolate in (which we did) and we could stay there forever.
3. We love the people who come. We have made some of the most wonderful friends through these conferences and it's great to see them return year after year. Our writers conference is like a big family reunion, only without the awful talent show and the boring recitiations of Uncle Herman's wife's first husband's genealogy.
Now it's time for the 4th Annual LDStorymakers Writers Conference, led this year by authors Josi S. Kilpack and Julie Wright. Being held on March 23rd and 24th at the Provo Library in Utah, we have cram-packed our time with fabulous classes on everything from grammar to getting a national agent. Regardless of your skill and expertise, there will be a class there for you. Click here for more details.
So if you're an aspiring author, or if you know someone who is, jot down this information. People are getting published after attending this conference. People are having the time of their lives at this conference. I'm so excited, I can hardly wait.
I loved every minute of it. Sure, it was a little hairy at times, getting everything organized. But it came together absolutely beautifully, despite the fact that I was nine weeks pregnant at the time and sick as a dog. I had fabulous help and we all pulled together as a team. The following year, when we decided to do it again, it came off like clockwork.
The third year, I passed on the mantle of leadership to Shirley Bahlmann, who did a wonderful job. We expanded the conference to two days, booked a hotel, and found that we really could improve on perfection. Why did it go so well? I list several reasons:
1. We all worked together to bring it about. While there were persons in charge of different areas, we all pitched in. There were no ego trips or people trying to steal the thunder out from everyone else. We're a team.
2. We love what we do. We love to write, we love to talk about writing, and we love to help other people learn how to write. Throw some chocolate in (which we did) and we could stay there forever.
3. We love the people who come. We have made some of the most wonderful friends through these conferences and it's great to see them return year after year. Our writers conference is like a big family reunion, only without the awful talent show and the boring recitiations of Uncle Herman's wife's first husband's genealogy.
Now it's time for the 4th Annual LDStorymakers Writers Conference, led this year by authors Josi S. Kilpack and Julie Wright. Being held on March 23rd and 24th at the Provo Library in Utah, we have cram-packed our time with fabulous classes on everything from grammar to getting a national agent. Regardless of your skill and expertise, there will be a class there for you. Click here for more details.
So if you're an aspiring author, or if you know someone who is, jot down this information. People are getting published after attending this conference. People are having the time of their lives at this conference. I'm so excited, I can hardly wait.
Friday, February 23, 2007
More Edits from Tristi's Work in Progress
I'm laid up with a sore foot today (they thought it might be a stress fracture but the x-ray said no) so I'm actually getting some editing done. Here are some segments I found in my manuscript I thought might be helpful to show:
Was: Adoption was, of course, an option, but she would never be able to have a child of her own.
Adoption's an option! Sounds a bit like "Moses supposes his toeses are roses." Let's change that.
Now: Adoption was an alternative, of course, but she would never be able to have a child of her own.
Much better.
How about: He went down into the basement and pulled out a box full of things he had packed away years ago, thinking he’d never have a need for them. For some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to throw them away, although Catherine teased him about it time and time again. Down at the bottom of this box was a chess set he had purchased while attending Columbia University. When Yoshindo wrote to tell him of Tsuneko's death, Ken had packed it away, unwilling to face the memories the game brought, memories of all the nights he and Yoshindo played chess together in Japan.
This one bugs me for a couple of different reasons. Notice how many times I say "packed away?" It's too many. And when Catherine teases him "time and time again," it makes it sound like she's totally after him about that box. I just wasn't feeling the vibe here, so I changed it a little.
Now: He went down into the basement and pulled out a box full of things stored years ago. For some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to throw them away, although Catherine teased him about it from time to time. Down at the bottom of this box was a chess set he had purchased while attending Columbia University. When Yoshindo wrote to tell him of Tsuneko's death, Ken had packed it away, unwilling to face the memories the game brought, memories of all the nights he and Yoshindo played chess together in Japan.
I'll probably tweak it a little more on my final pass, but that's how it stands for just now.
Also, how about this one: "Would you like to play a game with me?"
"Right now?” She glanced at the clock. “It’s after midnight, and you've got meetings tomorrow."
"Have you got other plans?"
She looked at Ken in surprise, then smiled. "I'm not going anywhere."
You didn't see this, because you don't have the whole manuscript in front of you, but I've had people looking at clocks and watches all the way through this thing. A few minutes ago, I said aloud, "Could there be any more looking at clocks in this book?" My mom is here helping me today, and she said, "Well, it's your book. You're the best one to answer that question."
Well, yeah, of course I am. So here we go.
"Would you like to play a game with me?"
"Right now? It's got to be after midnight, and you have meetings tomorrow."
"Have you got other plans?"
She looked surprised, but smiled. "I'm not going anywhere."
What I did here was I had her surmise what time it was, rather than know. Additionally, in the first draft, when I said that she said it "in surprise," it sounded like a POV shift. I'm the only one who knows if I say something in surprise. So I changed it to "she looked surprised," which brings it back to Ken's POV. I'll probably shake things up and take out some of the "have"s in that conversation in my final draft, while I'm at it.
Amazing the things you find when you haven't edited for a little while.
Was: Adoption was, of course, an option, but she would never be able to have a child of her own.
Adoption's an option! Sounds a bit like "Moses supposes his toeses are roses." Let's change that.
Now: Adoption was an alternative, of course, but she would never be able to have a child of her own.
Much better.
How about: He went down into the basement and pulled out a box full of things he had packed away years ago, thinking he’d never have a need for them. For some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to throw them away, although Catherine teased him about it time and time again. Down at the bottom of this box was a chess set he had purchased while attending Columbia University. When Yoshindo wrote to tell him of Tsuneko's death, Ken had packed it away, unwilling to face the memories the game brought, memories of all the nights he and Yoshindo played chess together in Japan.
This one bugs me for a couple of different reasons. Notice how many times I say "packed away?" It's too many. And when Catherine teases him "time and time again," it makes it sound like she's totally after him about that box. I just wasn't feeling the vibe here, so I changed it a little.
Now: He went down into the basement and pulled out a box full of things stored years ago. For some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to throw them away, although Catherine teased him about it from time to time. Down at the bottom of this box was a chess set he had purchased while attending Columbia University. When Yoshindo wrote to tell him of Tsuneko's death, Ken had packed it away, unwilling to face the memories the game brought, memories of all the nights he and Yoshindo played chess together in Japan.
I'll probably tweak it a little more on my final pass, but that's how it stands for just now.
Also, how about this one: "Would you like to play a game with me?"
"Right now?” She glanced at the clock. “It’s after midnight, and you've got meetings tomorrow."
"Have you got other plans?"
She looked at Ken in surprise, then smiled. "I'm not going anywhere."
You didn't see this, because you don't have the whole manuscript in front of you, but I've had people looking at clocks and watches all the way through this thing. A few minutes ago, I said aloud, "Could there be any more looking at clocks in this book?" My mom is here helping me today, and she said, "Well, it's your book. You're the best one to answer that question."
Well, yeah, of course I am. So here we go.
"Would you like to play a game with me?"
"Right now? It's got to be after midnight, and you have meetings tomorrow."
"Have you got other plans?"
She looked surprised, but smiled. "I'm not going anywhere."
What I did here was I had her surmise what time it was, rather than know. Additionally, in the first draft, when I said that she said it "in surprise," it sounded like a POV shift. I'm the only one who knows if I say something in surprise. So I changed it to "she looked surprised," which brings it back to Ken's POV. I'll probably shake things up and take out some of the "have"s in that conversation in my final draft, while I'm at it.
Amazing the things you find when you haven't edited for a little while.
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
Great Booksigning Article
Hey everybody,
I really recommend you go to LDS Authors and read this article by Lori Nawyn. It hits the nail on the head of why I like booksignings so much. It's not that I sell a ton of books, because I rarely do, but I love interacting with people. Lori's experiences take the doldrums out of a slow signing and remind us what it's really all about.
I really recommend you go to LDS Authors and read this article by Lori Nawyn. It hits the nail on the head of why I like booksignings so much. It's not that I sell a ton of books, because I rarely do, but I love interacting with people. Lori's experiences take the doldrums out of a slow signing and remind us what it's really all about.
Friday, February 16, 2007
This week's selection of blogs is brought to you by the letter A
Here ya go -- hope you like 'em.
Author Review: Pearl S. Buck
Mutiny on the Bounty (1935)
Want to Send an E-Card?
Children's Television Shows to Promote Exercise?
E-mail Subscriptions
Programs and Projects that Support Literacy
Like Dandelion Dust -- Karen Kingsbury
Sebaceous Cysts -- What You Should Know
Into the Labyrinth -- Roderick Townley
Author Review: Max Lucado
This is just a small sampling. I post up to six blogs a day, so be sure to check them all out here!
Author Review: Pearl S. Buck
Mutiny on the Bounty (1935)
Want to Send an E-Card?
Children's Television Shows to Promote Exercise?
E-mail Subscriptions
Programs and Projects that Support Literacy
Like Dandelion Dust -- Karen Kingsbury
Sebaceous Cysts -- What You Should Know
Into the Labyrinth -- Roderick Townley
Author Review: Max Lucado
This is just a small sampling. I post up to six blogs a day, so be sure to check them all out here!
Saturday, February 03, 2007
More Blogs for Your Blog Reading Enjoyment
It's been a little while since I linked you to my blogs. Here are some new ones for you, and I'm now blogging about movies as well. Enjoy.
The Importance of Being Earnest
Summer Stock
Author Review: Reeve Lindbergh
Cool Author Websites
The Blue Butterfly
Facing the Giants
My Favorite Wife
Return to Me
Favorite LDS Doctrinal Books
Literacy Series: A Changing Definition, A Greater Need for Comprehension
Books for the Blind
In the Good Old Summertime
How a Good Teacher Inspires Literacy
Why Didn't You Get Me Out?
The Importance of Being Earnest
Summer Stock
Author Review: Reeve Lindbergh
Cool Author Websites
The Blue Butterfly
Facing the Giants
My Favorite Wife
Return to Me
Favorite LDS Doctrinal Books
Literacy Series: A Changing Definition, A Greater Need for Comprehension
Books for the Blind
In the Good Old Summertime
How a Good Teacher Inspires Literacy
Why Didn't You Get Me Out?
Friday, February 02, 2007
Why Isn't One Editor Enough?
I've spoken with a lot of aspiring authors who struggle with the idea that they need to send their manuscript out to a lot of readers before they can officially call it "done." I'd like to explain a little more about the process and to dispel any myths, legends or beliefs that may be associated.
1. If you're embarrassed to have that many people look at your manuscript, you're not ready to be an author. Anywhere from two to eight readers will go through your manuscript once it hits the publisher's desk, and if it's published, with any luck you'll have hundreds and even thousands of readers taking a look at it. You need as much input as you can possibly get before it ever makes it that far. The publisher doesn't have time to sit and wait for the story to get good. It should be good from the get-go, and your readers can tell you if they're being captured by the story or not.
2. It absolutely does not matter how many times you read your work -- you will miss things. I can't emphasize that enough. You can pore over every sentence until your eyes are blurry, but you will miss things. You need fresh eyes to help you spot the weak areas. And even when you think you got something exactly write, you still got it wrong. Every single great author that has ever been discovered has made mistakes in their manuscripts, and they have all needed to be edited. There is no such thing as a perfect-the-first-time author. Although, the more you write, the more you will automatically write it better the first time. Not perfect, but better.
3. You won't only miss grammar and punctuation, you will miss plot points. You will neglect to explain things well enough. You will over-describe. You will use redundant words. You will say the same things over and over. You will be too repetitive. (I'll shut up now -- you catch my drift.) You'll leave out a crucial clue or you'll give it away too soon. This is all because you're human, not because you're a bad author. Your readers will help you catch these mistakes.
Even if you've paid an editor for a professional edit, it's still wise to have a few other people read it for you. The paid editor, while fabulous, may not have experience in economics, and your brother-in-law does and can help you out with chapter four. The paid editor may not speak Italian, but your uncle Herbert does, and can clear up some problems on page 300. Conversely, your mom doesn't know a dangling participle from a penguin, and the paid editor does, along with suggestions for how to fix plot holes and bad dialogue. You need to utilize whatever resources you have to make your edit as good as it can get. And if you still need convincing, scroll through my archives until you find "Why We Edit."
1. If you're embarrassed to have that many people look at your manuscript, you're not ready to be an author. Anywhere from two to eight readers will go through your manuscript once it hits the publisher's desk, and if it's published, with any luck you'll have hundreds and even thousands of readers taking a look at it. You need as much input as you can possibly get before it ever makes it that far. The publisher doesn't have time to sit and wait for the story to get good. It should be good from the get-go, and your readers can tell you if they're being captured by the story or not.
2. It absolutely does not matter how many times you read your work -- you will miss things. I can't emphasize that enough. You can pore over every sentence until your eyes are blurry, but you will miss things. You need fresh eyes to help you spot the weak areas. And even when you think you got something exactly write, you still got it wrong. Every single great author that has ever been discovered has made mistakes in their manuscripts, and they have all needed to be edited. There is no such thing as a perfect-the-first-time author. Although, the more you write, the more you will automatically write it better the first time. Not perfect, but better.
3. You won't only miss grammar and punctuation, you will miss plot points. You will neglect to explain things well enough. You will over-describe. You will use redundant words. You will say the same things over and over. You will be too repetitive. (I'll shut up now -- you catch my drift.) You'll leave out a crucial clue or you'll give it away too soon. This is all because you're human, not because you're a bad author. Your readers will help you catch these mistakes.
Even if you've paid an editor for a professional edit, it's still wise to have a few other people read it for you. The paid editor, while fabulous, may not have experience in economics, and your brother-in-law does and can help you out with chapter four. The paid editor may not speak Italian, but your uncle Herbert does, and can clear up some problems on page 300. Conversely, your mom doesn't know a dangling participle from a penguin, and the paid editor does, along with suggestions for how to fix plot holes and bad dialogue. You need to utilize whatever resources you have to make your edit as good as it can get. And if you still need convincing, scroll through my archives until you find "Why We Edit."
American Idol
Robison Wells made a comment on Six LDS Writers and a Frog that if you want a lot of traffic to your site, you should mention "American Idol." I do want lots of traffic, and I don't mind mentioning "American Idol" at all.
You see, I like the show. And I don't have any problems standing up and saying, "Hey! I like it!" I know that some people are closet fans, some are screaming maniac fans, and some people are rabid, foaming-at-the-mouth anti-fans. That's okay -- that's everyone's personal choice. But when Tuesday and Wednesday nights roll around, you know I'll be watching. (Unless I have pack meeting.)
I think it's because I see a lot of myself in some of the contestants. I have a really hard time staying on pitch when I sing. In fact, when I was growing up, my mother told me not to sing. She has perfect pitch and it would drive her nuts to listen to me waver back and forth between keys like a drunk pelican. But then my great-aunt told her that the only way I would learn was to let me sing. "Turn on the radio and let her sing along," she said. "She'll get it."
My mother gritted her teeth. But my great-aunt was a music teacher, so she must know something, right? I was never again told not to sing. (I was told to stop talking, but that's another story.) I did get better, and I now change keys a lot less frequently than I did before. I am learning to hear harmony and can actually do it once in a while. Although I never will be pop star material, I have come a long way, baby.
When I see the contestants audition, and the poor things don't know how bad they sound, I feel for them. They want to do this so badly but they don't have the skills to pull it off. Maybe they, too, will get better with practice, but maybe they need to put that dream to the side, and that's the painful part. When you want something that badly, and then you find out you'll never get it, it hurts.
I like seeing the excitement of those lucky few who actually make it to Hollywood, although I have noticed that they're showing us fewer good auditions this year. Maybe some sadistic souls wrote to the network and said they'd like to see more pain and suffering. But Hollywood Week is going to be a ton of fun, when we get to see who rose to the top and what we have to work with this year. You bet I'll be watching.
You see, I like the show. And I don't have any problems standing up and saying, "Hey! I like it!" I know that some people are closet fans, some are screaming maniac fans, and some people are rabid, foaming-at-the-mouth anti-fans. That's okay -- that's everyone's personal choice. But when Tuesday and Wednesday nights roll around, you know I'll be watching. (Unless I have pack meeting.)
I think it's because I see a lot of myself in some of the contestants. I have a really hard time staying on pitch when I sing. In fact, when I was growing up, my mother told me not to sing. She has perfect pitch and it would drive her nuts to listen to me waver back and forth between keys like a drunk pelican. But then my great-aunt told her that the only way I would learn was to let me sing. "Turn on the radio and let her sing along," she said. "She'll get it."
My mother gritted her teeth. But my great-aunt was a music teacher, so she must know something, right? I was never again told not to sing. (I was told to stop talking, but that's another story.) I did get better, and I now change keys a lot less frequently than I did before. I am learning to hear harmony and can actually do it once in a while. Although I never will be pop star material, I have come a long way, baby.
When I see the contestants audition, and the poor things don't know how bad they sound, I feel for them. They want to do this so badly but they don't have the skills to pull it off. Maybe they, too, will get better with practice, but maybe they need to put that dream to the side, and that's the painful part. When you want something that badly, and then you find out you'll never get it, it hurts.
I like seeing the excitement of those lucky few who actually make it to Hollywood, although I have noticed that they're showing us fewer good auditions this year. Maybe some sadistic souls wrote to the network and said they'd like to see more pain and suffering. But Hollywood Week is going to be a ton of fun, when we get to see who rose to the top and what we have to work with this year. You bet I'll be watching.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
