Last night I watched Casablanca for the second time in as many weeks. It reminds me of film school, inexplicably, as we never watched that film in film school. I remember watching Nosferatu, though. Anyway, I guess, when you look past the era-localized dialogue of Casablanca, you get down to the core of storytelling for film... the scene, the cast of characters, the leading character, their challenge, the road, the point of no return, the climax, the kicker. It's a classic and it's classy.
I'm working through a bunch of pieces for a section I was assigned for my school's Alumni magazine. They're coming out pretty good so far. I still have to organize an interview and might have to hunt down a few photos, but other than that, looking pretty sharp.
I feel like I haven't been writing lately, though, honestly, it seems like I've actually been doing little else. That's what happens during semesters with lit-intensive classes. I write constantly, just not as much the things I want to work on. Right now, actually, though, it has been a nice stack of essays, many of which are more related to school transfer applications. So much "self-selling," a big change from my usual self-deprecation and chronicles of human-nastiness. Hope I recover from all of this positive thinking.
In other news, I was recently given a sweater knitted by a werewolf. It is actually rather comfortable.
