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Alison Alexandra

Alison Alexandra Rubs Shoulders With The Golden Globes

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I have had a fascination with the musical instrument, the Theremin, for decades. A Theremin (named after its inventor) is an electronic musical instrument, invented in the 1920s-1930s, that is played not by touch, but by the movement of hands next to metal rods. It produces eerie sounds, something like a soprano at the top of her pitch.

For Christmas, someone I know got a Theremin as a present.  As sometimes happens in my current manuscript about Alison Alexandra, an event in my real life (regardless of how distantly related) will creep into Alison Alexandra’s life. She’s a gal open to many suggestions.

Now, had the present been a guitar or a clarinet, they would have held no interest for me. Although fine instruments both, they would have held no interest for Alison Alexandra, either. They are not exactly common, but neither are they exciting enough. Alison Alexandra has a bit of an edge to her.

But, because I already have some history with Theremins, and Alison Alexandra was embarking on a new chapter, it seemed to be a happy and musical experience.

So, I have done a more-than-usual research blitz on the instrument. Learning things I did not know. Listening to the surprising number of excerpts on the internet. But, as is often the case, also finding a number of contemporary references.

The Theremin was an instrument that fascinated a deceased author colleague of mine.

The son of a friend has actually made a Theremin.

The Theremin is used in the soundtrack of the British Television Mystery Series, Midsomer Murders.

And, most recently, a Theremin is used in the soundtrack of the movie The First Man. This movie has just won the Golden Globe for best Original Score.

Now, I’m not sure if Alison Alexandra is actually going to attempt to play the instrument,  but it certainly is going to hit some high notes in her life.

[Where to learn lots about the Theremin] https://www.carolinaeyck.com/theremin/

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Is My Past Tying Up Loose Ends?

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I was in the City Market, looking at produce. From the corner of my eye, with my back turned, something familiar twigged about a person passing. It was a woman with long, shock-white hair.
In this day-and-age it is unwise to start trailing a woman shouting “Hey, you.” Plus, this lady did not look the type to appreciate any unusual approach. As she was moving at quite a clip, I also wondered how wise it might be to give any sort of obvious chase.
However, she popped into a craft shop. With this delay, I thought I could take at least a further look. As it was, I was staring through a window just as she was staring out. Her brow did indeed furrow, and her facial expression was more of annoyance than curiosity. But, then, her face did change, and I saw recognition at about the same time I confirmed to myself who it was.
I believe it has to be twenty years since I last saw her.  As we were saying the usual “I thought you looked familiar” type of thing, a young woman appeared at her side. I – who never remembers names – recognised her daughter, and even called her by her name.
They were in town for a family funeral. In fact, the interment had been that very morning. They were heading to the airport in an hour or so. The last she knew of my whereabouts was when I lived in a different city. We only had a few minutes of chat – nothing about writing, other than that she asked if I was still writing. I admitted I was now down to five days a week, and not daily. Then they were away.
It has been a strange year for the old times popping up.
One friend (whom I haven’t seen for six years) was in town for a family reunion. Another friend, (whom I hadn’t seen for three years) drove in for an afternoon.
I went to a Memorial for a colleague with whom I had no dealings for nearly thirty years. And I went to a cousin’s Funeral Parlour visitation (whom I had not seen for eighteen years).
However, from the Funeral Parlour experience, emerged a more-than-unusual episode for my latest novel, where I am following the exploits of Alison Alexandra.
It almost seems as if my past is tying up some loose ends.

It Was NOT The Person From Porlock On The Phone

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My elevator pitch for my current work, There Was A Time, Oh Pilgrim, When The Rocks Were Not So Smooth is “In Xanadu, did Alison Alexandra / a stately pleasure dome decree”. Stolen whole cloth from Samuel Taylor Coleridge and his Kubla Khan.

So, I was startled awake this morning by a ringing phone. Just rang once. I have been attempting to write a dialogue between three characters in a pub concerning a dish of poutine. Although I did not exactly leap from my supine position to write the following, it was damn close.

I look upon the incident as a gift from the Backward Gods of writing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Excerpt from: There Was A Time, Oh Pilgrim, When The Rocks Were Not So Smooth

“I’ve not had that,” says Bridget. “What is it?”

“A heart stopper.” says Amanda.

“Pretty well,” agrees Alison Alexandra.

“They start with a big effing pile of French fries.”

“Excuse her French,” says Alison Alexandra.

“And then they pile on cheese curds and smother that with gravy.”

“Smother,” agrees Alison Alexandra.

“Then they check your pulse and let you go at it.”

“They don’t really do that,” says Alison Alexandra.

“Maybe not,” says Amanda. “But I bet they have a defibrillator handy.”

“Probably,” says Alison Alexandra.

“Well,” Bridget smiles. “It sounds as if a pitcher of draft will go real good with that.”

 

(image)https: //cdn0.vox-cdn.com/thumbor/6uyEgzZ9ByVTIyKBCsu3gSNZaKM=/4×0:996×558/1600×900/cdn0.vox-cdn.com/uploads/chorus_image/image/39119842/wendys-poutine.0.0.jpg

 

Truth And Drink With Alison Alexandra

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The woman straightens with enough speed to lose a few drops of her conversational whiskey. She looks at Alison Alexandra in surprise and appreciation. A translucent mask is peeled from her face. She is animated. Her eyes are expectant.

“You are new here.”

“You’re the observer.” Alison Alexandra smiles.

“But I never say what I really see.” The woman finally takes a real drink. “None of us do.”

“But you come up to me – with your observations.”

“In truth -”

The woman stops. She realises how rarely she tells the truth. She is startled that she is about to do so. She is apprehensive.

“In truth, it is on a dare.”

“Someone has dared you to ask me?”

“Actually, a number of people have put money in a pot to see if this will happen.”

“To approach me?”

“Yes.”

“How much am I worth?”

The woman raises her glass and laughs. “A bottle of Scotch.”

“Good Scotch?”

“Not really.” The woman is apologetic, yet she laughs. “It’s not that calibre of party.”

DE

(image)https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/92/c8/a9/92c8a9d4112b23627fd7c39a07440c35.jpg

Alison Alexandra and Harrison Ford Cast Off Lines To Get To Sea

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Alison Alexandra, the main character in my current Work in Progress, is about to set out on a sea cruise. She wishes nothing as boring as a Cruise Ship, so she is going on a freighter that has room for twelve passengers. She gets accommodations as comfortable as the ship’s officers, plus decent food and some entertainments. The drawback – which she does not consider a drawback – is that she goes where the freighter goes as it drops off and picks up cargo. Not necessarily fancy ports of call.

Alison Alexandra has just spent my week of writing watching the business on the dock as the freighter gets ready to cast off. For this scene I have stolen (and greatly altered) an incident that happened to me. I hear that’s what authors do, but it seems a rare situation for me.

I previously described what happened to me those many years ago, and do so again. Alison Alexandra is actually watching a crewman named Ellerton do what I did, when I stopped a submarine from running amok.

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Harrison Ford And Me

In 2001/02 the movie, WIDOWMAKER K-19, was made, much of it filmed in Halifax harbour and out on the nearby ocean. It deals with submarines and an in-ship disaster, staring Harrison Ford and Liam Neeson.

I was not aware of this when I visited Halifax. I went down to the waterfront and went along the boardwalk. It was very foggy on the water (which it can be without having much on land). I was exceedingly surprised to see, looming out of the fog, a submarine next to the wharf. There are submarines in Halifax, but they are berthed at the naval dockyard a couple of kilometers from where I was walking.

It took a couple of minutes to realize that it was not a naval submarine (no markings). What was happening was that the submarine was being turned by a couple of tugboats. I read later that each side of the same submarine was altered differently so, in close ups and aerial footage, it could appear to be two different submarines.

However, there quickly appeared to be a problem. From the shouts and gesticulations of a man on the wharf, I found out that one of the mooring lines had not been cast from the wharf. The submarine was being pulled away from the dock, but it was still attached. It was a gigantic and thick mooring line, and I do not know what damage would have been done to either ship or dock.

The man was yelling to another man on the deck of the sub, who had a bullhorn and in turn was bellowing to the crew of the tug boat. However, nothing was heard over the roar of the engines (tugboats have powerful engines). The man on the wharf was trying to lift the mooring line from its post before it got too taut to move. I ran over and helped him, and we managed to get it from the post just as it started to be pulled into the water.

Of course I watched the movie credits closely, but I was not mentioned.

No famous movie actors were involved in this incident.

DE

(image)https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/3/3f/Mooring.jpg/200px-Mooring.jpg

Alison Alexandra Knocks Hell Out Of Her High School Reunion

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So, Alison Alexandra is invited to go to her 20th high school reunion. Because of a few years as a fashion model, she is deemed the “most famous” of her class.

The author wonders who she is going to meet. And what is going to happen. Alison Alexandra demands more than ordinary. Through sundry meetings and back story (told in the present), these folk end up at her table.

Big Stakes Gamble – at the time of her high school tenure, he was a Motor Mechanics teacher. He is retired and now runs the only B&B in town. Alison Alexandra takes accommodation in his establishment. They decide to go to the reunion together. When they arrive, there is a name tag for her, but not for him. Alison Alexandra makes him wear her name tag. There are comedic results. {Also, in all this, the author found out name tag is two words}.

Betty Dragger – a fellow graduate of Alison Alexandra’s who was once married, but has pointedly reverted to her birth name. She carries her own bottle of olives to adorn her drinks of gin.

Ed Keen – he attended the high school only one year. But that happened to be the year his father was imported into the town to shut down the major employer. He has even fewer pleasant memories than does Alison Alexandra, who was (to quote her) “Bored shitless.”

Lee (short for Louise) Keen – wife of Ed, who has never been in the town before. She can ask questions and fill back story. She has no trouble holding her own with four people who share something she hasn’t.

The author did not know who was going to be sitting at this table.

Ya know – he had a hell of a good time.

DE

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