Almost Paradise

Christmas. I am still not 100%, but so far this is the best i’ve felt on waking in a while. The temptation is to, of course, overdo it some today, but I also don’t know what my energy levels are like; are they still depleted as they have been, making even the simplest of tasks exhausting? I was so drained all day yesterday that I couldn’t focus enough to even read, let alone do anything involving heavy lifting. The apartment is a disaster area, ready for a FEMA inspection. I’ve fallen so far behind on everything that I despair that I will ever be able to get caught up. But I know I will; I know I shall have to simply buckle down and focus, and with focus, all things shall come to pass.

I also did fairly well in the Christmas present department this year. Paul got me an incredibly comfortable long-sleeved LSU T-shirt (which I am wearing); a Team Italia soccer shirt; two books–one a memoir by a male ballet dancer and the other a history of the Bolshoi Ballet; tickets with great seats to see the Ballet des Monte Carlo at the Mahalia Jackson Theater in February; and a gorgeous new watch. We had watched the documentary Bolshoi Babylon some months ago, and I had mentioned my fascination with the ballet and thinking it would be a great setting for a noir novel–and that I would love to go see the ballet sometime. Being Paul, he remembered. This is why I am so shitty at gift-giving, to be honest; I am so self-absorbed so much of the time that I don’t notice things other people say that could be used as hints for gifts.

I have to say, the ballet noir is sounding better and better all the time.

Okay, I am starting to feel hollow-headed, so I am going to go lie down for a little while.

Merry Christmas, Constant Reader!

mario-lopez-hot-guys-of-christmas

Dirty Laundry

Wednesday! I have my biannual doctor visit this morning, so won’t be going into the office until later; I am doing bar testing this evening as well. I hope to get more edits put in–seriously, passing the halfway point made such a mental difference; each page I finish it like another step down the other side of the mountain. I am really looking forward to finishing; I know exactly what I have to do with this in the final draft, and am really really excited about finally finishing and getting it out there.

Huzzah! Yay, me!

So, Paul had dinner with a friend last night, and while I was waiting for him to come home (I’m not enjoying the book I’m reading and may put it aside), I decided to watch a documentary on HBO: Bolshoi Babylon.

Wow.

Over the last few years I’ve become obsessively interested in ballet; but most ballet stories are generally about women–understandably so; the men are primarily there, for the most part, to show off the women and their skills–but male ballet dancers are fascinating to me. For one thing, their bodies are amazing, and for another, what they can make their bodies do is even more amazing. It’s rare for a male ballet dancer to outshine his female counterparts; but when they do, they become big stars. (Nureyev, Baryshnikov, etc.) The world of ballet also seems very dark to me, very noir; the way the dancers torture their bodies to make beauty and art, the fragility of the egos, the constant need for approval–and of course, as dark as it is, it can get even darker.

Bolshoi Babylon is about the acid attack on ballet director Sergei Fimin several years ago; I remember when it happened. Fimin was a star of the ballet, became the artistic director, and then was viciously attacked, acid thrown in his face, and a long, painful recovery from the attack followed–he eventually got the sight back in one eye, but remained blind in the other. A male dancer in the company was behind the attack; Fimin had passed over his girlfriend for a lead, and he wanted revenge for his love. (I was very much reminded of the Tonya-Nancy figure skating drama; ballet and figure skating also have a lot in common.) But the documentary simply uses the attack as a launching point for an examination of the world of the Bolshoi; its internal and external politics, and also focuses on some of the dancers and what their lives are like.

It was riveting.

I’ve long wanted to write a noir about figure skating, and another about ballet. Watching Bolshoi Babylon only emphasized that desire; alas, I have this manuscript to complete, a Scotty to write, and I am also toying with that horror novel. But I think I shall continue my researches into both figure skating and ballet; Paul got home and watched the end of the documentary, and he agreed that it would be interesting to go to the New Orleans Ballet.

I also have been crushing on Italian ballet dancer Roberto Bolle for years now; thank you, Sarah Hilary, for bringing him to my attention!

Roberto-Bolle-Chi-2

I also got involved in an interesting discussion on a friend’s Facebook thread about author Louise Penny, whom I’ve not read, and who was just here in New Orleans to accept the Pinckney Prize, as this year’s recipient. I had to miss the event, as it was last week. But I do have a copy of her first novel, and I will try to read it before Bouchercon.

So much to read before Bouchercon! I can’t believe I have homework.