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As has been evidenced somewhere in the swirl of my massively divided attention span around here, I have a real hard on about a lot of the fall movies coming out, notably Vanity Fair (two days away now) and Closer (December).

I had to code an entire article about Closer at work today, and it enticed me further. So, I ran out and bought the play, and hot damn, it's just... exactly the sort of thing I think plays should be about in the way I think they should be about them.

But more importantly than that, it made me absolutely 120% realize exactly what it is I need to write about the Michael thing, and how, because I finally see the thread of the plot there, and see it at a distance and see why it should be told in a given way in a given format, and I am just so fucking excited, even if the act of writing such thing will effectively make every terrible thing he ever said about me true.

And I don't care.

I'm going to write it, and I'm going to submit it to Fringe next year.

That said... Closer -- this play, this play... it makes me want to take a scene study class right now just to work on parts of this with someone.

I'm not being eloquent, I'm too excited by too many things to be eloquent right now.

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I saw Closer in London in 1998, and was suitably impressed. I really, really hope that the film turned out well.

The previews for it have stunned me. A lot of it is that the casting is exceptional. But seriously, if Mike Nichols could not fuck up Angels in America, I think we're good.

And I'm quite extraordinarly jealous that you saw the London production.

"... even if the act of writing such thing will effectively make every terrible thing he ever said about me true."

Oh, horror.

He doesn't own your life, or your stories. (And, she said snottily, if he doesn't like the way he appears in your stories, he can jolly well write his own [and he should have been a better person, or not gotten involved with a woman with ink in her veins and pen nibs for fingernails].)

You may want to file this under unsolicited advice, but here goes:

I had a writing prof who always told me to get many years distance before writing the "thing that happened to me." So many stories are kinda based on something like that, especially at that level, but it seemed good advice. The danger being a lack of objectivity, especially about the characters.

Oddly enough he wrote a novel about his ex-wife which those who knew them both thought was very unfair to her. He admitted to me that it might have been to soon, this is after its publication, and that he should have followed his own advice.

Currently, I am working on a screenplay (or is might be a novel, I dunno) which was originally based on an ex-girlfriend of mine and our so-called relationship.

Currently, it doesn't look anything like that. It examining the character in the story, not only did the plot and character change drastically, I have come to understand her a little better, maybe even empathize a little, despite the things "she did to me." It no longer looks like a revenge story and I see her as a tragic, flawed and essentially frightened person, despite her choices.

I still dislike my ex, and I have every right to, but I think I can write this thing objectively now, without innately hating the character to a point she never has a chance to be complete and speak for herself and contribute to the story, rather than being a slave to it and my vindictive whims.

Of course, this may not be the direction you are headed, but I think taking your time and trying to be honest about the character as a character in a story, rather than trying to make it a representation of him is still good advice, In My Humble Opinion.

The situation with my ex- is many many years gone now, and I've spent years not writing about it, because I couldn't see what was interesting from a narrative perspective in it, despite the fact that everyone who knows the story is always like "do something with that" because it is convoluted and bizarre.

When I finally figured out what the something is, and what the part of the "that" is to use.

I don't hate my ex- and I never have really, and untilmately, it won't be about us, because my characters always take their own forms insistantly and quickly, but I understand now of what happened to us that I should make happen to some other fictional people.

One of the fundamental things you may not be aware of is that during our relationship both of us were writers as our primary occupatoins, and there was a great deal of vitriol thrown around on both sides about communication styles, narrative and exploitation.

So no matter what I say, it's just one of those simple things, that whenever I finally write something where someone's mother dies, I will be the most craven cunt whoever lived. Which really, is fine. I've already lived through the consequences of what I never did.

Of course, I see. Take only what you need, and disregard what you don't.

I have an ex who many years ago who used to accuse me of really believing the things I wrote. At first she was fascinated with "how I got my ideas." Then, if there was some scene of people mistreating each other, for example, that's who I must be. Even if I read something with terrible things in it, then I must be that, too and was punished for it. There were, of course, huge arguments about writing and art in general and where it comes from and all of that.

I may be misunderstanding what you are saying happened, but it seems a similar experience, although she would have never known that any particular moment could be exploitive in a artistic sense, but that writing itself was my problem, a window to my ugly self. It was the awful truth, to her, if the writing was about dark things.

I realize now that I had actually written a story in response to that right at the time, not following my prof's advice. It was about a couple who begins to believe that each was going to hurt the other, physically. The building they lived in was our building, the layout of the apartment the same, the descriptions of the people were accurate. I even quoted both of us a little. She got pretty mad, of course and I told her, as I always did, that it had nothing to with how I felt about things, it was just fiction.

Not completely guiltless, me. But, Protagonist or Antagonist? Depends on your POV. That's what I liked about the story, ironically, so I feel it had something worthwhile.

With no good transition to an ending for this ever growing comment, I will just say good luck with it. I hope it yields good things.