Why I Should Write Screenplays Instead of Novels

Proof That I Ought to Write Comedic, Romantic Screenplays, Not Novels

Point One: I'm a Dreamer

 I have dreams, and then I have vivid dreams. There are dreams that feel like dreams and then there are dreams that feel realer than real life. Do yours have that distinction? The best part about these vivid dreams are the fact that in most cases, they are full of things I have never before felt, or at a depth I have never felt them and with no exceptions, they come unexpectedly and have nothing to do with what I assume I will dream about. My brain somehow concocts the most intricate pieces of entertainment from my subconscious and imagination. As I sleep, I live them. A dream-dream will fade within the first hour of my waking up. Sometimes, if I'm jostled awake too abruptly by my "Somewhere Beyond the Sea" alarm, I'll forget them in an instant. But the vivid dreams exist as if preserved by some good fairy's charms. They aren't always romantic dreams either--once I had to be the assistant of a wordless FBI agent. I have run a week before on the fumes of a vivid dream just as I would if it was a real experience. They don't come often--perhaps every several months--but when they come, they are a delight. I had one the other night. I'll skip the details except for telling you that it was a perfectly innocent dream of a slightly-famous and highly-attractive man moving into the house across the road and falling in love with me. At one point in the dream he took my hand and laced his fingers through mine and, laughing, took me into the house to meet his parents and his eight year old niece.

I wish I could describe to you just how real it felt. Everything, from the feel of his fingers between mine to the slightly-stupid question I asked at the beginning when his sudden tenderness toward me sent me into much warm-cheeked confusion, felt extremely calm and real. Which is hilarious, because I've never met this person or had someone hold my hand that way, and the people who live in the house across the street have been there since we moved in. All the details are ones I have never consciously considered. The reality of the dream continued when, after visiting with the man's parents, I checked my phone and realized that it was 11:30 and I had needed to be at work by 9:00. I pulled a Cinderella then and fled the scene, sending a panicked text to my boss with something along the lines of, "Sorry I'm late--a really sweet/handsome man started talking to me and I thought it had only been fifteen minutes!"

Such a lame excuse, isn't it?

But I love dreams like this. I spent the entire day after that dream feeling loved and cherished and excited about something...what was it? Oh yeah. That ridiculously vivid dream. I laughed to myself over it, then told it to my siblings where it was laughed over and taunted further. One of my sisters put together a love-lorn playlist and we danced around the kitchen, putting dinner together to the tune of "Not That Girl" and "Marry Me." The point of this post so far is to let you in on my frame of mind before socking you with...

Point Two: I'm queen of serendipitous hilarity

Because, though fun, not only was our kitchen dance session amazingly pathetic but the reason for my flushed cheeks and starry eyes was some dumb dream about someone I will never meet and never think about without provocation. Still, I have told you before that I'm easily satisfied with small things and if it is pitiable that having a dream about someone holding my hand and saying pretty things to me sets me up for a fortnight, at least I'm not hard to please. As I have said, I felt quite airy and blushy this day and the dancing only made it feel more real. Whenever this sort of dream-thing begins to happen in real life, I already know I'm going to be hilarious. I'm going to be the person who is smiling about nothing. I'll be perfectly functional, but everyone will know I am in love. I mean, seriously: I'm made happier than a caterpillar in May to have a dream about something I didn't know I wanted.

I had almost gotten this ridiculous mood out of my system when I took my littlest brother upstairs to change into pajamas. In my room, I found my cat and she looked so sleepy and cuddly that I felt like rummaging her awake and dragging her into my fine humor. I get like this sometimes: I can't leave the cat alone, even if she's sleeping peacefully. I just have to bounce her. So I plopped on the bed beside her, then laced her paw through my fingers and continued the conversation from the dream with my other hand stroking her fine ruff.

And then it happened. The part I couldn't have scripted any better if I'd been writing that screenplay:

Just as I got to the cleverest part of the dream conversation and had almost determined to finish waking the cat by scooping her into my arms and dancing Aurora-wise about the room to annoy her, the dratted beast began to hack up a hairball. Not your normal, easy-going hairball. This one must have been lodged and stuck and never gonna come out, no sir.

"HACK, HACK, HUCKKKKKKK. HACK, HACK." 

I un-laced her paw. I sat up straight. I started to laugh.

"HURKKKKKK, HACK, HACK, HYUCK."

I dumped the choking animal unceremoniously on the floor and watched her body convulse. Get it out, darlin'. My little brother joined the circus and tweeted--yes, tweeted like a bird--every time she hacked and giggled in between It was quite the chorus, I tell you:

"HUCK"

*tweet!*

"HACCCCKKK"

*tweet*

That twinkly, rose-flavored feeling from the day--that in-love for no good reason about no real person--belongs strictly to dreams. It's wonderfully pleasant and I look forward with delight to the rare occasions when I get a vivid dream instead of the whisked-away sort. But the truth is, it's all imaginary. There is no guy in my life who wants to hold my hand and take me to meet his parents and tour his childhood home and laugh over the fact that we're standing in the front yard together and I really just asked if his windows had a good view. No one like that. Not yet. He might be on his way, but he isn't here and the house across the street boasts a tubby country boy and his slender wife and his little-man son and the only person who holds my hand is the three year old on her way to go potty. So while the vividness of the dream is a good substitute for things I have never experienced, the real parts of my life are much more realistic and quite hilarious.

 I'm not a Cinderella or an Aurora and I'm pretty sure that when my man comes, he'll probably not fit the description of the amazing man from the dream (you won't guess who it is. If you do guess, I won't tell you. But it isn't Tom Hiddleston) and he probably won't be your classic Prince Charming. In many ways, he'll probably be better. But I have one requirement for the elusive fella:

He'd better be up for dance parties and hair-balls.

"What's the matter with the men?" - a musical venture

Because it is Valentine's Day and we are all single (and most of you are single) and because we love singing/lip-syncing/the Broadway version of Cinderella, we thought we'd give you a bit of a treat. Suppose we had a variety show: this might be on it...and it's the first take so do forgive us. ;) Hope it gives you a laugh!

Love,

Rachel & Sarah

Cuz I know you need a laugh.

Busyness is never an excuse for anything so please pardon me while I don't make excuses that don't exist...
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Anyway.
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Right. Now that that's out of the way. I thought I'd give y'all a dose of my laughter. And by my laughter I mean things that have been making me laugh...not...yeah...not that. I love to laugh (isn't that on my profile and About the Lass pages? I think so.) and I love to make other people laugh. I laugh at myself and at other people and I think having a sense of humor is the biggest sanity-saver we've been given in this world. Having friends who possess good senses of humor is the second biggest sanity-saver, and thank God I have both. I literally do thank Him--often. I'm going to sort this post by category so here we go:

Me without You (Singleness)

10 Things to Never, Ever, Ever, Ever Say to a Single Person

I’ve been single most of my life. I have never really dated a lot compared to most of my peers. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’ve had my heart ripped out of my chest and found myself in a daze of “heart break warfare” complete with sleep binges and nights filled with ice cream topped with my own tears. Sadly, Taylor Swift wasn’t around then to really make me feel understood. But, that was one time and I’m lucky I only had to experience that once. But through my life, family, friends, nail technicians, and even strangers often always find a way to bring up my awesome single life.

 10 Things to Never, Ever, Ever, Ever Say to a Single Person Part Two

9. Have you tried Christian Mingle? Have you seen the couples on those commercials? They wear clothes from 1999 and the guys all have comb overs. 

 I laughed indecently hard over these two blog posts, sent to me by my awesome friend, Katie. Katie is my life-saver and we sent each other things like this to make ourselves laugh and avoid self-pity, lonesomeness, hilarity, bitterness, forlornity, etc. (And I'm only half-kidding when I say this)

 (Excercise/weight-loss) Flubbery

From the Movies and Pinterest Sarcasm & Wit :

Thurrrrr y'go. Laugh, snort, chuckle, snerk. You know the routine. 

(And if you didn't read those single posts, go back NOW and do so.)

Catch you kids later!

In Defense of Walking in the Rain

"It is not easy to walk alone in the country without musing on something."

-Charles Dickens

I have long held a stance on the subject of Walks in Rain that takes an optimistic, hopeful, and rather fond view of them. Some people think otherwise. Why they think otherwise is beyond me, but it was only this last Sunday that I was talking with a fellow or two about my fondness for Walking in the Rain, and how everyone always thinks me daft. This afternoon after sitting on my botto for 5 hours making phone-calls for pay, I decided I needed a nice long one. I was accosted by dogs (including my own) in one direction so I switched tactics and decided to go the other way. Wise choice, that one. I ended up on a bleak, windswept, moorish sort of place and a chap passed me by. He pulled off further ahead, turned around, and came back.

         "Do you need a ride?" he asked in a hesitant, gentlemanly way as if uncertain whether he ought to have asked me, since I a young lady alone on a dreary road at dusk.

         He looked so earnest and discomfited I was not at all afraid. I laughed. "No--I'm out walking for fun!"

         "Seriously?" I've never heard a voice more incredulous. He acted rather as if I had boasted a plan for walking to the North Pole to meet Santa Claus.

        "Really! I love walks in the rain." I smiled broadly, conscious of the fact that I probably looked a mess with my hair whipping about and my skirt drenched.

        He took a breath and looked at me again. "....Okay...." and off he went, looking doubtful still.

This encounter made me laugh a deal, and set me to thinking of a good defense as to Why. Why do I like walks in the rain? Why should you? And so all the way home I talked to myself merry as you pleased and compiled the list you see here. 

In Defense of Walking in the Rain.

1. Things smell better in the rain.

Proof: Have you ever smelled wet woodsmoke? Or wet pines? Or simply wet autumn?

2.Adventures are more inclined to happen.

Proof: If you were walking in the sunshine, d'you reckon a chap would stop and ask if you needed a lift? Highly doubtful.

3. Everything seems more British in a rain.
Proof: Have you ever walked through a flat bit of Eastern Virginia in the winter sunlight? There's nothing less English than that. But give yourself a wild November rain and a few upland drafts and a bit of deserted road and you are transported to Wuthering Heights itself.

4. A walk in the rain improves the complexion.
Proof: Even Mr. Darcy himself was not impervious to the charms of a woman who had taken a three mile walk in misty moisty weather.

5. It is the best way to enjoy bad weather.
Proof: You see, even the grouchiest grouches will admit that the chief charm of bad weather is getting out of it. Therefore, in order to get out of something you must first be in it. Thus a walk in the cold, nippy, wet weather heightens the pleasure of everything. If you do not enjoy the walk itself (I dare you!) you shall certainly enjoy your cozy dryness all the more having been wet a moment before. (I Rhymed, in case you didn't notice.)

6. It is a curious experiment in Diseases.
Proof: Everyone before the mid 20th century swore if you walked in the rain you'd die of pneumonia. I am proof (seventy times over) that such an oath is untrue.

7. Your brain works better in the rain.
Proof: ....I shall think of some presently. Ah! It enables you to write a post like this. {thankee, thankee}

8. It is a fabulous way to swim without any danger of drowning.
Proof: Have you ever drowned from walking through a mist? No? I am glad. Because then it would make reading this Defense rather awkward for both of us.

9. It is the best weather for thinking.
Proof: If you attempt to enjoy rainy weather indoors you are much too likely to fall into a dreamy state. If you are walking about, tromping through a gale on the high-road your chances of happening upon something Rather Clever are doubled, as you must have some measure of your wits about you in order to survive around those obnoxious little things called cars.

10. It is good stewardship.
Proof: "How?" you are asking. "How?" I shall tell you how. We all have bought an umbreller at some time or other, and if we never walk in the rain, tell me--what was the purpose of having bought an umbreller? Especially a rather nice rose-colored one that clashes with everything you wear? It would be rubbish. You'd far better have spent your umbreller-money on something else--like a ceramic goose. You'll never use that either, but at least it isn't the least bit pretty and doesn't deserve to be used.

So there you have it, dear Country People Who Stare At Me. I am not senile. I am far from bonkers. I am just a girl who happens to love a good walk in the rain, and thinks the art of doing so is not quite dead. This is my attempt at feeling Avenged.
               
Much Love,
        The Girl with the Rose-colored Umbreller

"M-A...Em-ma...." //Conundrums//

There are some things in life (like algebra!) that have no answers. If you like math do not tell me that it does have an answer. It does not. At least, not one that I care about. But there are many other conundrums that I puzzle over now and again in my spare time...

I love baking and I love fashion. Why are they fundamentally opposed to one another in the question of my waistline?

I do not understand what I do. What I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do. (Rom. 7:15)

My first impressions of other people are more often than not spot-on...but everyone's first impressions of me are generally incorrect. What does this mean?

Though I'm not a Hunger Games fan, this did make me think very hard and wonder...

I am an extrovert, but I find it hard to approach a new person and strike up a conversation....Meyers-Brigg's mislabel, perhaps?

I blog about time-management and supplement the posts with pictures from Pinterest....the biggest and most fabulous time-sucker EVER! :P

We I always plan to stop procrastinating and get back on shrinkage....tomorrow. -.-

Which came first: the chicken or the egg?

Joanna and I when we get together and discuss our marriage-plots:

Hot chocolate or apple cider? Pity you can't combine the two like, say....hot chocolate and coffee!

Stop for gas or drive and hope the marker being on "empty" isn't a rule...more like a guideline.

Work on editing and pitching three stories at once? Can I? Should I? How?

Write and schedule Meditations of His Love posts well beforehand like the other normal girls, or wait till the bitterest of bitter ends?

Make the dash between two cars on the highway or edge in only after its entirely safe?

Will there be snow?

a great big boizelling day :)

"An adventure is just an inconvenience rightly considered. An inconvenience is just an adventure wrongly considered." -G.K. Chesterton

Just a usual day...just the usual run of errands...

At least that's what I thought. Sarah and Leah were headed out with Daniel to do lawns. Dad was working another job. Mama and the rest of us needed to cash a check in VB and then do a Walmart & Sam's Club run. Yes, it was a tremendously hot day, but that's nothing unusual come summertime in Virginia.
Mama has been having me do all the driving--lots of practice makes for perfection, right? ;) But today she needed to dictate a grocery list and besides: she had a hunch she ought to drive.

Boy, am I glad she did.

We hadn't been long on the highway when there was a terrific jolt and a heart-clenching CHUNK-CHUNK-CHUNK-CHUNK-CHUNK!! We held our breath and prayed.Mama limped the van over to the side of the highway. Turns out the belt in our tire had busted and sheared off the entire driver's side step of the van. Yeah. How does that happen?
Six kids and a Mama on the side of the highway in temperatures that would melt the coldest constitution. Surely that's a cause to rouse chivalry? Pity? Okay...at least a stare as you drive by? Nope. Apparently not. Though Dad was on the way after Mama called him, not a single car stopped by (or even slowed down) in the hour and a half that we were sitting on the side of the road.

Not a one.

In an hour and a half.

And we were hardly out of country-territory where the art of gentlemanly-ness is still practiced, albeit with a sweat-stained t-shirt and a can of beer in hand.

I was mentally bemoaning the un-novelism of it all. I mean honestly--here I am, a perfectly single and unattached young lady, and now would have been the ideal time for a mechanical-savvy, charming stranger to stop by and give us a hand. But I guess mechanical-savvy, charming strangers are a little in awe of a big blue van full of kids. Maybe my curse of looking too capable raised its head. Let's face it girls...I just can't pull off The Damsel in Distress, unlike some people. (*glares at Abigail*)
Grace had similar ideas to me, though hers took the shape of something along these lines: "Hey! United Steaks of America Motorcycles--we need help changin' a tire!" (yes--that's what she howled at every motorcyclist passing by.) To add insult to injury, we happened to have pulled off the highway right over top a nest of yellow, biting, creepy horseflies. They invaded the van like an Egyptian plague. Thus, the conversation in the van ran along these lines:

Grace: "It's boizelling hot out here!"
Mama: "Sit down."
Everyone: "There's another one!" *slap!*
Me: "Benjamin--for the last time--get buckled."
Everyone: "And another one!"
Grace: "We're gonna be stuck here till Fourfin-July!"
Mama: "Benjamin--get buckled!"
Benjamin: "I found a bag of apples back here--we forgot to take 'em outta the van last time we shopped...can we eat one?"
Grace: "UNITED STEAKS OF AMERICA MOTORCYCLES--we need help changin' a ti-re!"
Everyone: "Look! There's more coming through the window!" *slap! slap!*
Grace: "Send us some A/C, Lord!"

(Have I mentioned lately that Grace could make a living doing stand-up comedy? Yep. She could.) Eventually Dad came (bearing Gatorade, no less!) to rescue us off the side of the road. We were oodles  happy. :) Then he took us to lunch, and we were oodles happier. But that still didn't change the fact that we hadn't done any of our shopping. But we got to the bank and deposited our checks, and all was very good and tidy...till we got back onto the highway.
Somehow we'd missed the warning that Monsoon Season was happening at exactly 3:30 PM on June 22, 2012 Literally inches and inches and inches of water, punctuated by thunder and lightening piled on top of each-other. We barely got to Walmart and Sam's. When we did, we split. I took Benjamin and Abby and shopped Walmart while faking a British accent. It was epic. Anna and Mama and the youngerest ones did the Sam's Club shopping.
And I had to shop for a bathing suit. You've no idea--or maybe you have--how hard it is to find a bathing suit that fits in all the proper places. (namely la bust) But I got something that'll work for now till I have time to make my own swim-suit. (Which ought to be happening fairly soon. :) Once that happened and we paid for everything, it was time to go. We braved the monsoon (getting soaked) and loaded groceries. We braved the monsoon (getting soaked) and headed home. We braved the monsoon (getting soaked) and unloaded groceries.

Adventurous shopping trip, no? :) 

I loved every minute of it.

My life as a musical :)

I have had this idea (and have been longing to do it) for ages. So welcome to a Musical of my Life. This is a post full of songs (broadway, movie, etc.) describing my life for the past month or so. :) Ready?

^ That referenced much of what I do, not the fact that I don't believe my life has begun. :)

And because the weather has been so absolutely gorgeous this past week I've been humming:

Change "greenbeans" to "weed-things" and you'll about have it. :P We've done a deal of delving out our plants from the carpet of weeds that have quickly overtaken the garden. :D

Daniel & Abigail (and me being dramatic in the background... ;)

And so, because like Eponine, I have no one of my own, Abigail has given me this advice... ;)

But it didn't seem to be working, so she thought she'd give me another tip:

But it was all rather exhausting, so I decided to go the easier way and just sing to him before going off to get my beauty-sleep.

In other news, there's been a deal of this: (because of sailing ships.)

And, of course, anywhere and everywhere I go, you'll have a bit of trouble getting my attention because likely I'll be...

In short, this last song pretty much perfectly sums up the emotions and events of the past month or so. :)

I hope you all enjoyed this post! I had fun making it. :)

Oh my stars and stockings!!!

I just made the most astounding, hilarious, amazing discovery ever! *Oh my heart, stop beating so triumphantly!* ;)
I was looking for an old post of mine (about my Dickens cook-book: Shake me up, Judy) to write another post (about another gift I'm doing) when I came across a 9 second clip from BBC's Bleak House showing the infamous "Shake me up, Judy!" scene wherein Judy shakes her grandfather Smallweed up. We always quote that scene. "Shake me up!" is our circle's lingo for "I need you to crack my back pretty please." ;)
Here's the clip, and tell me if you found it quite as astonishing as I:

Did you get it? Did you? Watch it again. Who does Judy remind you of? Anyone? I saw her again and my mind immediately flew to Sherlock. Molly Hooper. The girl that fans speculate might have helped Sherlock pull the whole dying-before-Watson's-very-eyes gag. I couldn't rest till I ferreted it out for myself.

And know what? I was right.

I was right!!! Hahaha! Judy Smallweed is Molly Hooper.

Or to put it properly, they are both Louise Brealey. Brilliant. I feel so smart and clever. This made my night. :)

Candid: Photo-booth love

Well...they're hitched! And they set up a ripping-good photo-booth to document the event!

(And no--of course we don't go overboard on the chance to get free family photos. And we are not hams in front of the camera! What do you take us for? ;)

Anna, Sarah, and Leah.

I love Levi's expression and the way he just threw his hand over the frame. It is [arguably] my favorite of the whole set. :)

♫"We're two of a kind--the happiest pair now!"♫

Mysterious? Oh yes.

Priceless. Matthew & I. (Must I explain? Okay. He's my cousin, peoples. :)

And last but not least? The Importance of Being Earnest. Honestly. I totally see Jack and Algie here, don't you? :) They've totally got the dilettante style going.

It was a beautiful and blessed wedding with a deal of drop-dead-amazing cake and a new-born love of photo-booths. Oh yes. A lovely weekend in all respects.

The Child Must Learn To Spell...

I was making dinner this evening and through the din of trays sliding in and out of the oven I hear Abby filling up a pitcher of water and shouting at Churchill. (The puppy)

"What on earth are you doing?" I called to her.

She shrugged. "Just getting water for that G-O-D."

Oy vay. "What do they teach them in these schools?" Guess I need to be giving Abigail some more intensive spelling lessons...? ;)

The best of "Keep Calm" :)

There are some silly things that make me happy. What silly things, you might ask? Okay. It's confession time. I am currently in love with:

"Keep Calm" pictures

Here are some of my favorites! :D

The best! :D

Precisely.

Brilliant advice--only, I love sneezing!

Need I say more? :)

You wouldn't get this one unless you'd seen a certain news clip... :D

Have a great evening--I hope you are getting some of the gorgeous weather we've had around here. :) I declare it feels like Spring--I'm wearing a light, brown cotton dress and loving it. :)

Feel the burn, people! ;)

My dearest, darlingest friends-and-relations:
      You may have noticed there is a slight strain to my voice as I speak to you. You may realize that my heart is pittering irregularly. You may have noticed, in short, that I am not myself. It is all the fault of my aching muscles which is all the fault of a splendid new exercise regime. It's called T-Tapp and it is extraordinary and I mentally love it, but my body hates me for it. At least right now. I am quite determined to continue on with it--after all, it's easy when I've got three sisters, a cousin, an Aunt, and Mama doing it with me. We are a hilarious bunch--imagine the Bennet girls with Aunt Phillips and Mrs. Bennet doing an exercise class and you'll pretty much have us. We laugh, we nearly cry, we tease each-other, we wollop about in a very strange-looking fashion, and generally wear ourselves out in a good way. During this new regime I have made two important discoveries:

Yes, I can do that. Can't you? ;)

• Discovery One: Rachel has no stomach muscles. Whatsoever.
• Discovery Two: It is quite possible to be sore in your chest and between your shoulders in such a way that your heart feels pinched. :P
• Discovery Three: I go about my exercise in an "Aha!" fashion--Aha! You, Body, thought you were getting away with something? Take that!

So there were three discoveries after all. All I can say is that this is feeling great--in my heart of hearts--and I suspect my body will accustom itself to this unaccustomed activity soon enough. :)