So While I'm Sitting Here Wasting Time: An Update . . .

. . . on The Book. I've spent the past three weeks revising what's already been written with the aim of handing it over to The Editor (or, as we call her at our house, Saint Andrea) just after Labor Day so she will (I hope) agree that yes, we can publish this book in the fall of 2011. So. Yes. Having done that, I'm now wrestling with the current Chapter From Hell, which concerns chickens, industrial agriculture, and agribusiness (trust me: it's more interesting than it sounds) with the goal of finishing it, too, by early September so I can include it in the chapters to send to St. A.

At which point, I will have written well over half the manuscript and then comes the truly hard part (which is already disrupting my sleep): researching and writing the last third of the book by December 31. 

If you don't hear from me again, it's 'cause I've died of anxiety. Here's hoping not.

"Alice In Wonderland": The Epic, The Saga

Last night I finally got a chance to see Tim Burton's "Alice In Wonderland." (Weirdly, it arrived at our local second-run, dollar theater on the same day it came out on dvd.) (*1)

As I've noted here before, I'm a serious Burton fan. I love his aesthetic, his sensibility, his intelligence, and the way he combines all of it in his films. (Sadly, his particular aesthetic --- his artistic point-of-view --- means that his films are often treated as kids' stuff rather than serious works of art: all those creepy creatures and ghosts and goblins and probably-haunted gothic mansions.)

So, no surprise, I loved his version of "Alice."

Cinematically it was astounding (I have to see it again, just so I can revel in all those plants and animals and uniforms.) And it had everything I love about Burton's work: the dark and eerie, the shining white of The Good. The hilarious faces of the toadies and bad guys. The adorable frogs and rabbits.

And Johnny Depp was brilliant as the Mad Hatter: he turned what could have been a heavily made-up one-dimensional caricature into a person of great humanity, sorrow, and humor.

In many scenes, by the way, Burton also pays homage to what I think is perhaps the best film ever made: the 1939 version of "The Wizard of Oz."

But as I watched, I also figured out why the critics were less than kind: he didn't play by the Alice rules. In these seemingly simple, albeit eccentric, stories, he found something larger, more universal than other filmmakers have uncovered.

Heretofore, the Alice books have been filmed as either an exercise in surrealism (the 1933 version, which, if you've never seen it, you should) or as a kid's movie complete with goofy characters; more fairy tale than anything else.

Burton, however, treated the story as an example of the great sagas/epics --- think Beowulf, the Odyssey, any of theNorse sagas, the tale of Gilgamesh.

You get the picture: In Burton's hands, Alice's journey is one of self-discovery; of challenges faced; of trial and travail. Like all the great heroes, she is presented with a challenge before she can "return home." She battles enemies, and her own doubt, in search of the reward of self-knowledge.

Was this a dark version of Alice" Sure. But how could it be otherwise when it was a tale of the fundamental human experience? (And like life itself, the darkness was laced with humor and journeys into madness.)

But I suspect the critics (and perhaps even audiences) were hoping for, I dunno, a more superficial treatment. Or at least a more conventional one. (*2)

So if you've not seen the film, I hope you will. It's a brilliant piece of art, and one of the best from an artist who rarely screws up. You gotta love someone who is so completely able to convey the vision and mystery that fills his mind.

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*1: I didn't go see it earlier because a) was out of town for part of time it was here; and b) I really hate going to movie theaters. So many rude people. So many cellphones ringing and blinking.

*2: Now that I've seen the film, I'm reminded (again) of the way critics responded to another brilliant film, "Far From Heaven." The film is set in the late 1950s, and was filmed in that glossy cinematic style of the '50s. As a result, critics focused on its appearance and so completely missed the powerful point the filmmaker was making: that profound social change happens one person, one act of commitment, at at time.

A Possible Return to Normalcy?

Maybe. Maybe not. But hey! I'm feeling like I'm over the Major Hump of the new book.

Or, okay, that at least I've got a serious and firm grip on the rest of its content. Still tons of work to be done, but I've made major progress since January.

And I'd like to get this blog back to normal after my research/writing hiatus: There's lots going on in the meat world. Indeed, it seems that every day I read about yet another controversy about this, that, and the other in the world of meat. I'd love to be commenting on it (and, yes, I am patting self on back for restraining myself these past three months and keeping my face buried in my work instead of shooting my mouth off about other stuff).

We shall see. In any case, I survived the winter, I survived our remodeling project (which officially ends tomorrow) (*1), and I survived that ugly bleak mid-point that every writer must crawl through when writing a book. Ugh.

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*1: Well, the remodeling is sort of officially over: the people who are going to put a couple of top coats on the new floor can't do so until next Friday (the 30th) and then, sigh, the floor has to sit and "cure" for another week. So here I am, staring at my amazing new kitchen --- and I can't use it yet! Oh, the agony.

What's Goin' On?; or My Plan For 2010 ("Sticky" Post)

Note:  I originally wrote this post in late January by way of explaining why I've (intentionally) slowed my otherwise fanatical pace of blogging. I've decided to keep it up front as a "sticky" post. Other recent posts are below (as are about a bajillion older posts.)

The  Gaye/Cleveland/Benson song has been  running through my head lately. Apparently it's the soundtrack to my goal, such as it is, for 2010.

Which is: I'm hell-bent on finishing the book this year. I'm only half-way through the research and writing, and right now I'm feeling a bit hamster-wheelish, but  . . . (No, the song doesn't have much to do with my goal or my work, but a soundtrack is good, right?)

I know, I know: You're wondering: "What the HELL has she been doing? Why isn't she finished?" Rightly so. I've been working on this book since early 2007 --- minus the 18 months I lost to trying to regain the use of my right arm. (Jesus. When I look at it that way, I feel like I'm working at the speed of light.)

But as I've noted before, I do all my own research and writing and I have a "life" beyond my work --- and so it takes me a long time to write a book.

So, determined to finish the book this year, I've got to stay as focused as possible. (I had lunch with two friends yesterday and felt guilty about not being at home working. Sigh.)

I'm also giving myself a crash course in the politics of contemporary food: I'm a historian, so I can tell you what happened a century ago, but I'm not clear where we Americans are now.  And I've gotta figure that out so I can speak coherently to meat, both past and present. (Which I did this week when I talked to two reporters about meat in modern America.)

So on any given day, I'm engaged in two projects that consume most of my brain power. Which means: something's gotta give, and what's "giving" is my blogging time. Which means the blog is more-or-less on hiatus until (I hope) April. I'm still here, but . . . I'm not, if you know what I mean. (*1)

I'm using Twitter to keep myself connected to the larger world (especially the politics of food as we know it in the U.S.) So: I'll be in and out of the blog and more regularly at Twitter (hey! whaddya waiting for? get a Twitter account!). (*2)

Should you miss me (I wish), there's plenty here to keep you occupied. (Click the "other projects" link at the top of the page.) (Yes, since you ask, I am a wordy, ruminative soul.)

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*1: If I weren't such a wordy, long-winded woman, I'dve done what most people in my situation do: Just post a single blog entry announcing that I'm on hiatus for five months. But --- something interesting might come along! And I'd feel compelled to provide my two cents worth! And then where would I be?

*2: I remember when I first heard about Twitter that many pundit types asserted that Twitter meant the end of blogging. I can see why they thought that: god knows Twitter is MUCH faster/easier than actually writing a series of sentences and paragraphs. Instant gratification in a way that blogging is not. Still, I love the blogging format and the intellectual rewards it provides. But I'm not kidding myself that I've got time to write the new book AND blog 5 or 6 times a week.

Ridin' Dirty to Bite-Size Edits

Okay, bad title. But wanted to surface for a moment to say hello to those stopping by either because of the Ridin' Dirty interview or the Bite-Size Edits launch (for that, see here or here). (*1) (The Bite-Size thing, by the way, is, um, addictive, as I discovered when I gave it a whirl. Just what we all need, right? Another internet addiction!)

As I noted in my "hiatus" post, ordinarily I blog at a maniac pace, but I'm currently taking a blog-break so I can finish writing my new book. (Because, yes, I finally realize that I'm not Super Woman. Which is okay because her costume is definitely not to my taste.) But as I also noted in the hiatus post, there's a whole lotta reading material here.

If, for example, you're hunting for more of my opinionated opinions on the subject of drinking, click on "Rational Drinking" in the categories on the left, or click on the "Other Projects" button at the top. Now go! Read!

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*1: To emphasize a point about the Bite-Size Edits excerpt: The text I'm offering at the site is from a rough draft of the manuscript, with emphasis on the word "rough." Think of it was crap flowing from my brain to the keyboard, uneditd. In no way, shape, or form should it be construed as polished prose.

Musings From Terry Teachout

I love this from Terry Teachout. Makes me sad and glad at the same time: Sad to nod my head in agreement; glad someone as smart as he wrote it. So: if you've a mind, go read, ponder, etc.