The Cast Is. . .

This is the fun part of being a writer. Sitting at your desk, or in my case, sitting up in the bed, dog in my lap, my son asleep, weary and sore from too many hours at the day job, half asleep, but still compelled to WRITE. Fernando Pessoa wrote in The Book of Disquiet - “I have to write, as if I were carrying out a punishment. And the greatest punishment is to know that whatever I write will be futile; flawed and uncertain.” Love Pessoa!

It's funny when someone reads your novel-in-progress and offers this as a review/critique – “It's much better than the junk I normally read.” Okay, that was helpful. No, really, I want that on the back cover. It was enough to have hope that I will indeed find a publisher for my novel, but not enough that I think I'm the next Hemingway or Pessoa. However, she did ask an interesting question. Who would I want to star in a film adaptation of my novel?

First, the novel was intended to be a screenplay. I'm glad I wrote it as a novel. Now I have all of the elements to adapt it to a screenplay should the opportunity present itself. I've been studying
screenplays in my free time. Ha, free time, what's that again?

I digress. I told my friend that there was only one character that I wrote with an actor already in mind, Viggo Mortensen. I'm a huge fan. I love his acting and his writing. Of course, he would have to be Aleksandr, the quiet, blue-eyed Russian POW. But what of the other Russians in the book? The dastardly Vladimir and the cunning Yuri? Definitely Alan Rickman for Vladimir. I don't really care he's about 25 years older than the character. Only Alan could ooze the type of menace on the screen. Maybe not the only one, but this is my cast of characters, my blog, and I will do what I want.

Yuri. . . hmmmm. . . I thought perhaps Ben Affleck. I don't do a lot of physical descriptions. The most you know about Vladimir is that he has a dark beard and “the slanted eyes of the southern Russians, lupine and feral.” Also, he is a rather large person as only one of the Resistance fighters, Leon, is bigger than he is. He also snores, and he's bad in bed, but, hey, what does that have to do with anything? I would imagine given his size that his brother Yuri is probably also tall but not as tall as his brother. I also thought about Kris Holden-Ried for the part of Yuri. Then I decided he may make a very good Paul instead. Then I thought about Liev Schreiber for the part of Leon. Tall guys, lots of tall guys.

Here's the trouble in paradise. Alan Rickman is the shortest at 6'1. Ben is 6'2 ½, Liev is 6'3 and Kris 6'3 ¼, if Google is correct. Liev though, he fits the descriptions of Leon the best, something like a linebacker, but in literary form. Ah, who cares? That's what movie magic is for, right? Alan as Vladimir, Liev as Leon, Ben as Yuri and Kris as Paul. What a lineup! I would definitely go see that in the theaters. Too bad you all have no idea what I'm talking about because you haven't
met the characters. Trust me.

I wish I had a part for Elle Fanning. She was AMAZING in “Super 8.” Alas, she is too old to play Greta and too young for Elena. Damn.

So, what about Elena? No one really comes to mind. I am considering Rachel Weisz though for the part of Janina. I don't have any ideas about whom could play Anna either.

See how much easier it was for me to pick the male parts? I'm a terrible casting director! Or, maybe the problem is I just like men more. I also noticed that the men in my book all have facial hair at some point, and at least one of them has hair on his chest. I know this may make some women say, “Ew,” but I for one think men should be hairy is they wish instead of shaving all the hair off their bodies to fit fashion/society guidelines. Let men look like men!

After some contemplation, a six hour nap, and a dream that reminded me of a Tim Burton film, I would choose the Kates, Kate Winslet and Kate Beckinsale, as the leads for Elena and Anna respectively.

I decided to post a series of scenes that I think show a lot about Paul's personality. Paul is an ethnic German involved in the Polish Resistance and the black market. Here, he's going undercover to gather information and make contacts. During this part of the novel, he's dating Anna. . . supposedly.

****

Paul cranes his neck, sliding the tie into the edges of the collar. His hair is slicked back, save one
errant curl that twists on his forehead. He smoothes it back again, then puts the suit coat on. He rubs his freshly shaven jaw, the too small Italian leather shoes pinching his feet.

Sasha hides his smile in the crook of his elbow as the elderly tailor says,
“You look splendid, sir!”

He turns as the men snicker and cat-call.

“Hey, playboy!”

“No, you mean, pretty boy!”

Paul smirks, “Laugh now, mutts, but while you're scratching fleas, I'll be eating caviar and drinking champagne with beautiful women.”



“Nice touch,” says Paul's contact, Gregorz. Paul twists the swastika pinky ring with his thumb.

“My sister made it.”

“Very nice. Relax, mingle, keep your eyes open, your mouth shut, eat more than you drink, and try not to take the wrong woman back to your room,” Gregorz says, holding the car door open for him.

“How do I know which one is the wrong one?”

“All of them.”



Paul throws back another shot of whiskey and waves away a waiter bearing canapes. A string quartet plays waltzes and German folk songs, smoke hangs near the ceiling, the staleness mixing with perfume, laughter, and voices, so many voices. Paul sees her from the corner of his eye. He startles, thinking at first it is Janina, glossy dark curls and breasts, but it isn't. She sees his expression and takes it as an invitation.




“Amal,” Elke drapes herself over the man's shoulder then kisses him, sloppy and wet, on his cheek, “Darling, you must meet my new friend, Paul. . . umm.”

“Kohlmuller,” Paul says, extending his hand.

“Colonel Amal Klein,” Elke slurs, hanging on his arm, “Paul runs the armament factory in
Niebieski.”

Klein's eyebrows raise as he shakes Paul's hand.

“Ach, the Resistance is such a pest in those parts. Have you lost many shipments?”

“A few,” Paul says, “I find it helps to think about what I would do in their position. It pays to
stay one step ahead of them.”

Klein grunts as he peels Elke's hand from his arm.

“A pleasure, Herr Kohlmuller.”

Elke holds up her arm, “Paul's sister is a jeweler. I'm wearing one of her bracelets. Konrad got it
for me. Isn't that a coincidence, Amal?”

Lowering her arm for her, Klein nods his head.

“Have a good evening.”




Elke is piss drunk. Paul fucks her, hard, until she passes out. He withdraws and masturbates, ejaculating onto the bed clothes. Not bothering to cover her, he dresses, and carrying his shoes, goes to his own room.

In the morning, a messenger brings a note from Colonel Klein.

****

That's it for today, my little beasties. I start my weekend today. Woohoo! Only ten more days until grad school residency! But before then. . . Valentine's Day at the restaurant. Not only Valentine's Day day, but also a special Valentine's Day brunch on Sunday. One day of
Valentine's Day chaos just isn't enough for us. Tune in next time to find out how much I hate adverbs. Have a great week everyone!