Chapter Two, Page 3

This week’s topic: Bookmarks. Not the paper kind with profound statements, cute pictures of kittens or with tassels or other dainty creations. I’m referring to the electronic bookmarks that are conveniently built into your computer. Gentle viewers (I think that was a common phrase used by Jane Austen or Harriet Beecher Stowe), if you are familiar with computer easing our writing life, then skip ahead to page 3 of Chapter 2. However, if you are navigating the Internet like Columbus on his first voyage, then stick with me kid and we’ll take that journey together. So what are electronic bookmarks and why should I waste my brain cells? Bookmarks are absolutely fantastic, especially if you’ve been on hundreds of web sites and found all this wonderful information. Instead of writing down the web site, and the numerous subheadings, with just a few clicks of your mouse, you can save the page you want and can access it at your leisure. There are also features that allow you to make subfolders. Let’s say, Writing for example. Under writing, I have agents, blogs, publishers, resources, misc. This summer I was planning my vacation and did not know where to go, just someplace in Southern California. Whoa! That was hours of looking up time. I make up a folder called Vacation: Then subfolders, Hollywood, Long Beach, Santa Monica (of note, these are not randomly chosen, they are areas in my novels where I planned to do a little research). So after viewing half a million web sites, I was able to compare and contrast and narrowed it down. I finally decided to spend a few days in San Simeon—I realized I could not handle the LA traffic, all the people, the central coast weather was most accommodating, and come on, I was on vacation from my writing, too. This week’s tip: How to access Bookmark. Pretend you’re already in a website looking for information. Go to top row that says “File, Edit, View History, Bookmark, etc.” Put your mouse on Bookmark, left click once, left click Bookmark this page.” A message box will appear, and save in the main folder and click Done. After you get about 20 of them, then make some folders. If you want to make folders, i.e,, writing, vacation, food, etc., then click from the top row Bookmark, left click once; left click once Organize Bookmarks, another message box will appear and left click once Bookmark menu (you may not have to because you’ll see down below a folder called New Folder). Then left click Bookmark Menu and right click it again. Then left click New Folder. A message box will appear that says New Folder. Where it says “Name” your folder, type the name of your folder, i.e., Writing. And then left click Add. You can then drag your files to that new folder, and later, make some new folders. And if you’re more adventurous, you can also have subheading in your main folders, i.e., under writing, you can have Editing, Agents, Blogs, etc. But I’ll let you experience joy in figuring that out.





****This young lady seems to be a fan of our Mr. Celebrity. How convenient. (For first time readers, please jump to the blog: Chapter One, Page One.)***



…TV Trade, last summer’s top-grossing film, which surprisingly received favorable reviews from the critics.



“Montgomery Davis!” She finally said in a melodious voice that was as rich and as deep as Norma’s famous chocolate peanut butter fudge. “I can’t believe it’s really you!”

“I can’t believe it, either!” I said returning her excitement. And boy was I excited. A luscious babe appeared out of nowhere to ease my boredom and rev up my lower torso.

“Sweetie,” I asked. “Do you know what I could really use right now?”

“I hope I do!” She grinned and lifted her eyebrows.

“Ah,” I paused. She seemed too eager. I pointed to the empty toilet paper dispenser. “How about giving me that package you’re clinging to like it’s a shield?” I wickedly grinned. “I promise I won’t bite.” I lied, feeling like the Big Bad Wolf making his move on Ravishing Red.

She tossed me the package and gave me a dead-on impression of Mary Richards’ irresistible expression of “silly me” that she reserved for Mr. Grant. Toilet Paper Chick left the bathroom without looking back and closed the door behind her. I then heard what sounded like banging against the bathroom door. I think it was her head. She wretchedly moaned, “Oh God. Oh God! Dear God!”

“Man, do I feel great!” I said.

After turning forty a few months ago, I feared I lost it, and Lydia’s frigid aloofness added to my insecurities. But now, in just a few short minutes, I was gonna get some, and that odd housecleaner appeared amply endowed to fulfill my lusty cravings. Afterwards, I’ll demonstrate my gratitude. After all, she was a devoted fan, plus conveniently nearby.

“Ms. Husky,” I said softly, “meet Mr. Horny.”

But after staring in the mirror at my over-the-hill, double-chinned, heavily wrinkled face, I had to accept my shelf life as a romantic icon was nearing its end.

Dear God! Please grant me more time in the Hollywood spotlight. There was nothing finer on this amazing planet than being an A-list celebrity. Forget about the million times I griped about minor inconveniences, like the lack of privacy and being unable to trust anyone. I never meant it; none of us stars did. It was an act to keep those low-life producers guessing. If we didn’t grumble about our fifteen-million movie deals with sideshow perks, then how could our agents convincingly demand twenty million and net of gross?

I sucked in my gut and scrutinized my saggy physique, which was deteriorating so quick that I’d be lucky if I get a puny five million for my next picture. I bet it won’t be the starring role, either. My fans will abandon me and start obsessing over the next up-and-coming hot young actor appearing on the silver screen. They’ll forget I once existed. Who could adore this haggard face that looked as if it used all two million frequent flyer miles? Has my worn-out face finally evolved to what film lovers charitably call “character?” I bet in two years, my movie roles will consist of the harmless toothless old-timer, like Walter Brennan’s, without the unique country accent or the intense gleam.

What if Lydia’s exotic housekeeper is my very last swooning female?

Character actor…oh shit!

Even though I was clueless my leading man roles would soon dry up, my subconscious sure in hell knew. Why else would I stupidly accept the role of Macbeth?

Macbeth!

I must be certifiably insane to perform on stage with actual people in the audience!

Chapter One, Page 9

This week’s topic: movies/screenplays. Last week, I watched Born Yesterday, the movie written by Garson Kanin. (I’ll write more of him in another blog because he’s one of my ideal writers.) If you have not seen Born Yesterday, then you are denying yourself a wonderful treat. It’s also a mini-civics lesson and informative as to Washington D.C. back then…and how politics really works. The movie was made in 1950s and it’s in black and white. Can you believe that there are some people who refuse to watch any black and white movie? What a waste! Garson Kanin wrote every line of dialogue to near perfection. I watched the movie with the eldest high school daughter and told her that it’s not just my favorite but a lot of people as well. She laughed her tush off and was intrigued with some of the colorful old sayings that were common back then. The cast in the movie was wonderful, which included William Holden a fantastic actor in every way imaginable, Broderick Crawford, who plays the ignorant brute to perfection, and then there’s Judy Holliday. She won the Academy Award for her role as Billie Dawn. She is sincere in the role and her dimples were a supporting character in their own right. She can deliver one word or sound in so many different ways that she’s such a joy to watch. I get a similar feeling of actors having the best role of their life also while I watch the BBC Sherlock Holmes version with the brilliant Jeremy Brett as Sherlock Holmes. Jeremy Brett also can say everything with just a single word or glance. When I watch wonderful performances with witty dialogue, to me, it’s as if the angels are singing. Of note, I am curious to see how Robert Downey, Jr., handles the Holmes role; but I’m guessing he’ll be great, too. (But don’t take my word for it, watch him in Tropic Thunder, Iron Man and/or Restoration—not his typical role, but moving all the same.) This week’s tip: Screenwriters! Watch old Academy Award movies—there’s a reason those films, writers or actors won. Never give up on your screenplay; keep at it.. As we all know, Hollywood is famous for stomping all over promising scripts; but when the plot is believable and original and the dialogue is full of truth, it would be a crime for anyone in Hollywood to mess around with your script. Unfortunately, there are too many crappy movies out there, so be responsible to yourself, the writing profession, as well as us folks who live for that good movie that makes us forget our daily cares for a few hours.

…my best friend of nearly twenty years treating me like a ‘nobody’ and never telling me the reason why? (For first-time viewers, please jump to Chapter One, Page One.)

Let’s see. She repeatedly chewed me out regarding last year’s ‘Gays’ catastrophe; so she must be pissed about something else I supposedly did, said or thought. Stella’s other “I’ll never write to you…ever again” letter arrived a week after last Memorial Day, which gave me the impression there was some connection to the military that ticked her off. My foolish mouth may be big enough to store combat boots, but I’m not that stupid to speak ill of the Armed Forces, considering my father died while stationed in Germany. I’ll even swear on my dead mother’s Bible that I never made a derogatory comment about Japanese women, like Stella, who married military men only to obtain American citizenship.

I’ve spent hours studying this letter for clues to deduce what horrible crime I committed that I deserved to be abandoned by the only woman who I stupidly thought understood me.

Stella! If you don’t tell me, then how am I supposed to guess…I mean, improve the situation?

Oh my dearest, Monty! Today, my body aches for you. Venus wanting to go down on Mars or some suck gibberish.

Can you believe that me, Monty’s Number One fan, is not up to date regarding your current events? Is your latest flame another amazingly gorgeous but boring (illegible scribble)? How I envy the bitch!

Or are you still flying solo and scouring the world in your endless pursuit of firm young flesh. How’s that race going of Monty Davis never having a love affair that’s lasted longer than six months?

HOWEVER! If I do find out you were alone on your favorite day of the year, tears of desolation may send Yours Truly into catatonia land, especially since I’m without a date for Cupid’s prom.

Dang! She’s ruthless!

Did “without a date for Cupid’s prom” mean Stella is finally free of her abusive husband? For nearly twenty years, I’ve waited for her to divorce that creep. So if she’s no longer with the brute then why is she acting like she’s part of the witness protection program? She knows my wealth can get her out of any kind of sticky jam. But I can’t help her if she won’t tell me her location.

Oh Monty! I despise myself for perpetuating the silent-letter treatment, but I have to preserve what sanity remains.

Which contradicts with the following crazy sentences.

Since I have no more pride, you need to know that her Highness, Mistress Stella Lee, has forsaken the good fight. My castle is overrun with futility. The Queen has been ensnared, and her free continues under the magic spell.

My dearest love! Why couldn’t our souls connect long ago when we naïvely assumed poverty meant a lack of money?

If we had met sooner, would our lies be any different?

That last sentence still gives me the creeps. She probably meant to write “lives” instead of “lies.”

I didn’t hear the bathroom door open, but the yellow paper rustled from a slight breeze. Through the brown opaque glass, I saw the shadow of a blurry dark figure.

Well, well, well.

Ms. Supermodel has finally returned to her crappy condo because woman’s intuition alerted her that she’s about to be cruelly dumped!

They say change is good for you.

For everyone else, but not for me.