I have always found Bad Day at Black Rock to be a frustrating, annoying movie, even though that didn’t keep me from sitting through it a number of times.
And whenever I have a frustrating, annoying day around here, I simply call it a bad day at Black Rock and try to leave it at that.
First, though: I finally remembered to put up that photo gallery of Villa Monte Malbe in Perugia, Italy, where the writer’s retreat will be held (hopefully every year). It’s down there on the right hand side. Click on any photo and it becomes a gallery.
Even though it sleeps 60, and has 30 guestrooms with 30 private baths, I am only going to accept a maximum of 20 writers, and probably closer to 15. Since the retreat will also yield a publication of work that’s written during the retreat, I have to actually meet one-on-one with all the writers several times throughout the week, and then edit everyone after they go home.
And I was thinking I’d like to have a life in addition to doing all that… so, 20 is the max.
I’ve been waiting here at my desk for 2 hours for a phone call from Sandra. She texted: I’ll be home soon, can you chat?
That was the above-mentioned 2 hours ago. However, I know it will be a very interesting chat, so I’m waiting…
I’m also waiting to hear from the director of the play, but he’s incommunicado right now over something that is of great interest to me, so I am trying to be patient there, too.
However, I didn’t get much done on the novel today, so of course, I’m frustrated and annoyed with myself. And when I can’t get other people to distract me (i.e., on the phone), it’s even more frustrating!
And then after mentioning in my earlier post today, that I listened to Tom Petty’s song “Dreamville” about 30 times in a row last night, and loving every spellbinding, beautiful moment of it, as well as the night itself; I played the song again once today while fixing my dinner and broke into tears again.
What the heck is up with that?
I don’t know. Sometimes, I just give up trying to figure out anything.
Anyway, peruse the photos. The retreat is going to focus on sensual/sexual/erotic writing; poetry, prose, memoir, fiction, nonfiction, etc. (Is there an “etc.” or did I just cover all the bases?)
If you are familiar with my book Stirring Up A Storm: Tales of the Sensual, the Sexual, and the Erotic, it’s going to be along those lines, except for men & women, both. Not just women writers.
Plus, it’s still a year away.
Okay, people. I am going to try to see if I can salvage the night here somehow. I refuse to go to bed frustrated. Well, that sounded a little weird, but I trust that you know what I meant.
Baci. See ya!