summer_plans epitome of incomprehensibility It is the second of June, and I feel I should be starting to harbour unrealistic expectations about the coming season right about NOW. I mean, it's a crying shame to have that privelege reserved for New Year. 1. Do white-collar minimum wage job. (Yes, working with community activities and a kids' day camp is technically classified as a white-collar position. I dunno why--we wear red T-shirts.) 2. Be helpful and useful whenever possible. (Hard to define, but something to keep in mind. I could have called it "kindness" but I wanted to be slightly specific.) 3. Work on what is to be your first novel. (But will it? My presumption almost scares me. And then I think of Mozart and I'm depressed. Child geniuses should be seen and not heard. Er, not really. It's just that I've been planning to write a "real book" ever since I was seven, and all the times it's failed. Age eight, I thought the distinction between the books I made for fun and books in stores was that the latter were typed. My family didn't have a computer then, so I set about imitating a typeface by hand, flourishes and all... I think I did about one sentence and gave up. The story was about a magical land full of tiny people. It was ruled by an evil witch who frequently turned her subjects into plastic toys and banished them to Earth. Two kids, Sheila and Daniel, magically appear in this alternate-universy-type-thing and save the day. Hey, if someone wanted a cross between Narnia and the Indian in the Cupboard books, this would be it. In sixth grade I developed the story for a different fantasy book. In high school I wanted to write a high school novel, or something artsy and surreal. Later, a satirical fantasy (owing somewhat to my first idea)... and for the past two years, I have formulated a plot that is not by any means realistic, but set in the real world. Such as it is. We'll see.) 4. Try, please try, to stay on the topic at least some of the time. 5. Save up enough to pay for both semesters of The Glorious Thing That Is Highter Education. (Not likely. I will probably find myself splitting the cost with my reluctant parents, as I did last year) 6. Go to Ontario (I already did) 7. Make art (Define art) 8. Stop this list, since it's getting slightly boring, and let other people write about their summer plans, you inconsiderate space-hogger and clogger. (Okay, but there's no need for name-calling.) 080602 ... Fan Don't let the child prodigies oppress you. The early works of Mozart are dreadfully boring. The early works of Mendelssohn are also good for only a few listenings. The bizarre but wonderful Bruckner only got going in his 40s. Child prodigies are amusing but their works usually lack profundity. Instead of pressuring oneself with comparisons to child prodigies, one should pressure oneself with the idea that any day might be one's last, and artistic undertakings become much more difficult after that. And, as usual, your blathes accomplished both #2 and #4. Thank you. 080602 ... e_o_i Cool, thanks. (But I like Mozart's early piano pieces. They have good melody and rhythm and work well as sight-reading exercises. I find that the transitions between different sections can be awkward, though, compared to his later works. The thing that bothers me about Mozart has really nothing to do with him: it's the high-pitched, annoying giggle that the actor has in Amadeus. I kept wishing, "OK, Salieri, kill him already". (And that probably didn't happen in real life either.)) 080608 what's it to you? who go blather from