Got a bit of a nudge from a friend, wondering if I’d lost interest in blogging.

On the contrary.

I find I have so many thoughts that I’d like to ruminate about that it’s hard to pick one or two of them to blog about.

Plus I’ve been quite busy.

My house is looking fairly spiffy, the flowers in the garden are not wilting any more–I watered them thoroughly this evening. At least things are in pretty good order, and of course I’ve been working on the sequel.

And on top of all of that I’ve been doing some of my own nudging.

Helping one friend apply for an artist grant, helping others with a bit of critiquing.

I feel all swirly inside.

It’s not a bad feeling, just a bit unsettled. Not like a storm brewing, but rather like one of those crystal globes with the water in them and the fluttery bits of tinsel that swirl around when you shake it and eventually settle.

Right now the tinsel’s still swirling. Hasn’t settled yet so I can’t quite see the picture revealed. So if this blog post seems disjointed, maybe that’s why.

Most of this is in regards to the sequel. The characters are up to something, I can feel it. They’re just not letting me in on it yet.

I have so many possibilities.

I’ve learned to just trust the process. It’ll come together, insha Allah.

I’ve also been thinking of the show my hubby and I went to see on Saturday night.

He got some complimentary tickets to see Jersey Boys and boy was it interesting.

I’d only ever been to a more traditional theatre at the Stratford Festival. This one was done up all modern. I find drama quite fascinating.

They do say that most authors are frustrated actors and I’ve always had a bit of latent drama inclinations in me (which is why the storytelling is so easy for me!).

Oh the story was interesting enough. It was about Franki Valli and his rise to power, but I couldn’t help watching it more for the way they told the story than for the story itself.

It was the typical rags to riches story. These four grew up in Jersey with no prospects and rose to fame and fortune, yada yada yada.

The guy playing Franki did a good job mimicking his singing skills, but I couldn’t help wondering if he didn’t find it even a little irksome that instead of going out there and making a mark with original songs of his own he was stuck singing Valli’s ensemble.

And then there were a couple of interesting moments in the show where the lights from the stage were a bit brighter and the players had just belted out a famous number: Sherry, or was it Big Girls Don’t Cry, or maybe My Eyes Adored You. No, no, I think it was Oh What a Night (December 1963). Yeah, that was it.

And the players came to the edge of the stage and looked over the audience–waiting, pausing. For what, I wondered, then realized. They were hoping for a standing ovation.

I looked around, and one lady was standing, but I didn’t think the material was remarkable enough. I didn’t stand, and I thought it was kind of silly for them to do so under the circumstances.

The acting hadn’t been that good, and the story so far was only okay.

They did it one other time as well. Like they were asking to be paid an advance or something.

And then it occurred to me that yes, they get a salary, but I think for most artists the real ‘pay’ is the reaction of the fans.

You could see it on their faces.

But there was also one moment in the story arc where there was a bit of awkwardness. And it occurred to me that perhaps the writers hadn’t understood the character’s motivation.

The character was named Nick something or another, one of the lesser known members of the Four Seasons (Vallie’s group).

At the height of their fame, it seemed that Nick just walked away from it all.

Maybe the writers couldn’t understand it.

I could.

I have toured, and it’s really not as glamorous as they make it out to be. It’s about ten minutes in the spotlight with the crowd going wild and 23 hours and fifty minutes of trudging through dirt–figuratively speaking of course.

But then those ten minutes can be quite full of the adulation–complete with standing ovations galore.

But if you’re a lesser known member of a group, if you know that the women are not really screaming for you, why the heck wouldn’t you walk away?

Life’s too short. If you want to do other things then it makes more than sense to go and do them. But maybe the writers couldn’t get that. Maybe they were so hungry, still, for the adulation, or the illusive glory that they couldn’t comprehend why the real life Nick would have walked away from it. So that moment in the story was definitely awkward.

 And yet they handled Valli’s philandering incredibly smoothly. So smoothly in fact, that his character did not seem lessened in the eyes of the audience.

Quite an accomplishment. And yet the cynic in me thought, wow, these people are very good at glossing over their short comings. It’s all about angles.

But by the end, with the finale of You’re Just too Good to be True, and the rest, then yes, even I stood up, applauded and cheered.

And I came away thinking that even while the actors were speaking their lines, it was the words, not the music, that I had been fixated upon.

I must be a writer.