March 25, 2002 Yesterday I: stabbed the Duke of Clarence and then, just for good measure, drowned him in a butt of malmsey; served time in the Tower of London; got released from the Tower and swore vengeance on those who put me there; was cursed by the former Queen, Margaret, for standing around and watching while Gloucester, Clarence, and Edward IV murdered her son; gave the Great Seal of England to the Queen Mother and conducted her and the king's brother to sanctuary; informed little Edward V that his mother and brother had taken sanctuary; had my son taken hostage to ensure that I would not turn traitor to the Yorkist cause; invaded England; was visited by several ghosts; killed Richard III in battle; united the houses of York and Lancaster; and was crowned King of all England Oh, and I was also falsely accused of treason after defending my mistress on an already trumped-up charge of witchcraft, dragged out into the courtyard, and beheaded -- all because I said I wouldn't support the Duke of Gloucester's "hypothetical" (my ass) usurpation of the throne. (Jeez, Rich can be so testy.) And I did this all before dinner. Busy day, wot? See, I spent the day at Sabrina's Shakespeare workshop at NYU doing a reading of Richard III. I got to play the first murderer (hence the stabbing of the Duke of Clarence and drowning him in a butt of malmsey); Lord Stanley, the Earl of Derby (hence my son being taken hostage to ensure my loyalty to Richard); the Archbishop of York (hence giving the Queen Mother the Great Seal and conducting her and little York to sanctuary); Richmond (hence the whole invasion of England, ghostly visitation, uniting of the houses of York and Lancaster and being crowned King business); and Lord William Hastings (hence the imprisonment, the curse from Margaret, the trumped-up treason charge, and the beheading.) Man, I love Richard III. It's been my favorite Shakespeare since I studied it as an undergrad. The professor who taught that class was a member of The Richard III Society, dedicated to redeeming Richard's reputation and proving he was not a usurper, tyrant, or child-murderer. For our mid-term, we had to do a paper on whether or not Richard actually murdered the princes in the Tower. I read Alison Weir's anti-Richard The Princes in the Tower and Thomas Costain's sort-of-pro-Richard The Last Plantagenets and came up with the theory that Richard did have the princes murdered but only to protect England from the strife of having a child king, not because he was aiming for the throne himself. He assumed the throne only at the urging of the surrounding anti-Woodville nobles. I got an A minus. I was lucky. My classmates who wrote that Richard was a monster who killed the princes for personal gain fared about as well as Lords Rivers, Vaughn, and Grey, Richard's Woodville enemies who were beheaded at Pomfret Prison. Apparently, the object of that exercise was figuring out that if your professor is a card-carrying member of a pro-Richard III society that believes Richard has been villified by Tudor propaganda created by Henry VII and disseminated by Sir Thomas More and William Shakespeare, it might not be the smartest idea to base your mid-term paper on the traditional thesis that Richard of Gloucester is an evil, scum-sucking, brother-killing, friend-betraying, kangaroo-court-holding, child-murdering, wife-poisoning, jail-bait-niece-marrying, hunch-backed tyrant with a withered arm. And if you've got to travel the Richard as child murderer path, then at least come up with some sort of exculpatory reasoning for his actions. Hence, my A MINUS. Hey, maybe I can get my Shakespeare professor to remove that minus from the paper now that I've learned this valuable lesson. (Of course, the only reason I've learned this lesson now, twelve years later at the ripe old age of thirty-one, is that while working as a professor myself, I've come to realize that a whole lot of lit papers get graded on the bias of the professor. "What do you mean Macbeth's every step wasn't controlled by his domineering wife??? Haven't you been listening to anything I've said? What is this crap? Macbeth was in complete control of his life??? You believe that? Really. Please. Jesus. B-.") No, really, I'm kidding. Really. Besides, I'm getting off the subject. (Gasp! YOU, Kate, going off on a tangent? How could that possibly be?) So we did this reading of Richard III in Sabrina's workshop and I managed not to mangle ALL of my lines (just maybe 80% of them, but hell, I got a few laughs and I got to pretend I was sleeping for half of the fifth act so it was all good in the end) and I had a grand time. So this is my new dream: You know, in addition to writing a novel that will win the National Book Award and get me named as one of Oprah's Book of the Month Selections so I can be all snotty, a la Jonathan Franzen, and refuse to do her show because she's just so "provincial" and she's dumbing down the literary traditions of America. But, kids, that is my old dream. Or at least my older than this current dream dream. (I mean, it's not like I'm abandoning the whole National Book Award/snub Oprah dream; I'm just adding a new dream to keep it company.) So, yeah, my new dream is to do a production of Richard III. And, no, I don't want to direct it. And no, I don't want to play Anne Neville, or Elizabeth Woodville, or Queen Margaret like all the other actresses at the reading yesterday who were practically clawing each other's bright little eyes out to read those parts. And, no, I do not want to play Richard like Edward and Theseus who had to split the part yesterday. All I want is for someone else to direct a production of Richard III and to let me play Lord Hastings. That's not asking much, is it? They wouldn't even have to change the character to Lady Hastings (God, no. Ick. Shudder); I'd do the part in male drag. I'd even CUT MY PRECIOUS HAIR if someone would just mount a full scale production of this damned play so I could be Lord Hastings. I know, I'm not quite right, am I? It's just that I fell so madly in love with this character during this reading. I don't quite understand why, really: He's not the biggest part in the play -- obviously since it is not called The Tragedy of Lord William Hastings. Richmond's got more lines and much more to do -- he KILLS Richard and becomes King of England for Christ's sake. But there's just something about Hastings. (By the way, did I ever mention my strange fetish for obscure characters that nobody else notices?) True, for most of the first two acts all Hastings does is follow Richard around and glare at the Woodvilles and every once in a while chime in with "Me, too!" but then in Act III, there's these three scenes concerning his downfall and Richard's betrayal of him and, damn, Hastings' tragic loyalty and naviete are just so heartbreaking. Before the reading, I was pestering Sabrina about how to pronounce certain words (Gloucester, Leicester, I never know how the fuck to pronounce them) and I was looking for "Pursuivant" since I had no clue what a Pursuivant was, let alone how to say it (FYI, a pursuivant is an official messenger of the court with the authority to deliver warrants -- There, you learn something every day). Anyway, I knew the word was in the Act III Betrayal scenes and as I was looking for it, I commented, "Jesus, am I stupid in these scenes." Sabrina asked exactly how I was stupid and I explained: "I mean, everyone else in London knows that Hastings is about to get his head separated from his shoulders -- Stanley even shows up to get me to run away with him -- and still, I'm all like 'Do de do, Richard is my friend.' Right up until the moment he has them chop off my head." Well, that just cracked Sabrina up. I thought it was pretty funny myself. But while we were doing those scenes, it occured to me that Hastings isn't stupid; he's just unbelievably kind and noble. He can't imagine that Richard isn't playing him straight. He's loyal to Richard and to Edward V and he cannot fathom that Richard, as someone he respects and has fealty to, would want to do something as unethical as usurp his nephew's throne. He thinks he's doing the right thing by supporting Edward V as the rightful heir to the throne and he ends up dying for it. The moment when Richard storms into the meeting and accuses him of treason is so devasting; he never even gets a chance to defend himself. Instead, Richard leaves him dumbstruck and awaiting immediate execution. True, Hastings hates the Woodvilles and he takes pleasure in the fact that Richard has jailed and executed Rivers, Vaughn, and Grey, but, in the context of the play at least, Hastings dislikes them only because they had him thrown in jail because they felt he stood between them and Edward IV. And, I mean, there is absolutely no comparison between how Rivers, Vaughn, and Grey leave this earthly plane and Hastings' last words. Rivers, Vaughn, and Grey go to the chopping block imploring heaven to remember that Queen Margaret also cursed Hastings, Richard, and Buckingham and if her vengeance is going to be visited upon the Woodvilles, it should also be visited on those three: Then cursed she Richard, then cursed she Buckingham, Then cursed she Hastings -- O, remember, God, To hear her prayers for them, as now for us! How petty can you get? Meanwhile, at least Rivers, Vaughn, and Grey had actually done something to raise Richard's ire (they were trying to get young Edward V away from Richard and under their own control). Hastings gets falsely accused of treason just so Richard won't have to deal with any opposition from him, yet, his last words are not curses. He even says he doesn't deserve pity: Woe, woe for England! not a whit for me; For I, too fond, might have prevented this. He even repents taking pleasure in the Woodvilles' executions: I now repent I told the pursuivant, As too triumphing, how mine enemies To-day at Pomfret bloodily were butcher'd And I myself secure in grace in favor. Truly, a class act is Lord Hastings. Aside from the young princes (I mean, you really can't compete with murdered minors), I think Hastings is Richard's most innocent victim. Everyone else who ends up poisoned or beheaded does something to deserve it: Rivers, Vaughn, and Grey are really no better than Richard, trying to seize the throne by seizing control of the young king; Richard's brother Clarence coldly murders Margaret's son Edward while he is retreating from the Battle of Tewkesbury (apparently, Clarence had no concept of karma); Buckingham goes along with Richard, helping him set up the Woodvilles and Hastings -- really, how big of a surprise could it be when Richard turns on him?; even Anne Neville sort of gets what she deserves: We meet her at the beginning of the play, mourning for her murdered father-in-law (Henry VI) and husband (good ol' Margaret's Prince Edward, murdered by Clarence and Richard) and by the end of her first scene she's basically agreed to marry the man who killed them -- Honestly, how scrupulous is this woman? But poor Hastings. He isn't conniving or backstabbing. He was loyal to Edward IV and he tries to be loyal to the late King's son (Edward V) and his brother (Richard). He just wants to do the right thing and he can't understand why Richard wouldn't want to do the same. Really, in the end, Hastings dies because he is too loyal. Dominic Mancini, a contemporary Italian chronicler of the events of 1483, said of his death: "Thus fell Hastings killed not by those enemies he had always feared, but by a friend whom he had never doubted." Truly tragic. Which is why I want to play Hastings. Well, that and the fact that I can totally relate. I've been known to place too much faith and loyalty where it is least deserved. The scenes in Act III where everyone else knows Hastings is in for it while he blithely believes that Richard will remain loyal to him are often played for laughs and while I can appreciate their inherent comedy, I would love to be able to bring out the pathos in them as well. What a horrible moment it is when Richard enters the room, ready to falsely accuse his loyal friend of treason so he can have him executed, and asks: I pray you all, tell me what they deserve That do conspire my death with devilish plots Of damned witchcraft, and that have prevail'd Upon my body with their hellish charms? and Hastings replies: The tender love I bear your Grace, my lord, Makes me most forward in this noble presence To doom th'offenders: whosoe'er they be, I say, my lord, they have deserved death. I mean, my God, kids, the man just signed his own death warrant. How terrifyingly pathetic. So that's my new dream. Anyone want to produce? Direct? Play Richard? Christ, I am such a freakin' geek.

7 Deadly Sins and Other, Less Fatal Diversions Pride: Sabrina and Sammy want to give me an official title since they consider me the third leader of Rose Theatre. She also said that if we take the show we did in NYC to London, that beside her, Sammy, and the woman who played the lead, I'm the only other member of the company that they're taking over. Envy: My sister, Holly, who just left on a ten-day Caribbean cruise. Wrath: The Academy Awards irritate me to no end. Every year I watch them and every year I end up completely frustrated and yelling at my television like a lunatic. I think my basic problem is that I can only deal with so much self-congratulatory, "look-aren't-our-lives-so-fucking-fabulous" bullshit for so long. Or, possibly, it could just be the fact that the movies I want to win never win Best Picture. (Either or, really.) I swear, forget all those odd makers, if you're wondering which flick NOT to bet on, just find out what movie I think should win. Sloth: Fifteen creative writing portfolios are due back to my students by 5pm on Tuesday. How many do you think are graded? Avarice: You know, acting is like Lay's Potato Chips for me. I can never do just one reading or one play. I can go for months without it, but then I do some theater project and I just want to keep doing more and more. Gluttony: Holden and I had an "Oscar Snack Party." Don't even ask. Lust: I NEED this hundred-dollar purse. I need it so much I think I am going to have heart failure if I do not own it. One day, it will be mine. Oh, yes, it will be mine. Book: The Lake of Dead Languages by Carol Goodman. First novel for Goodman, who has a B.A. in Latin from Vassar and an M.F.A. in fiction from the New School. She's published a bunch of short stories in upper-tier literary journals. The Lake of Dead Languages is about Jane Hudson who returns to the girls' boarding school where she spent her last three years of high school to teach Latin. Her senior year was fraught with tragedy which resulted in the deaths of her three best friends (her two roommates and one of her roommates' brother). Now, twenty years later, the events of that year are being reenacted and her students are turning up dead. The novel is beautifully written; Goodman has a talent for poetic description of nature and physical surroundings. Her incorporation of Latin and the mystique that surrounds the dead language into the structure of the work is also quite intriguing -- The book is an amazing example of writing what you know and focusing on your passions. Goodman uses Latin as a central facet of her story and it adds depth and richness to her characters. Unfortunately, the plot is rather predictable. I figured it out less than halfway through and clueless me never sees these kind of things coming (What do you mean the neighbor did it? Huh? Darth Vadar is Luke's FATHER? When did that happen?). Lake of Dead Languages is one of those books that kicks off with everyone having something to hide and yet doesn't ever seem to throw you enough red herrings to keep the ultimate resolution a surprise. Ultimately, the plot also runs towards the melodramatic, which is, I suppose, a symptom of its predictability. Goodman has a few great opportunities to really turn the world on its ear and have her characters do unforgiveable, horrible things, but she always seems to err on the side of caution -- mostly, I think, because she doesn't want her characters to be *too* dispicable. In my opinion, she should have taken the plunge and gone all the way. In addition, Goodman repeats motifs and information too much. Jane will explain something in Chapter Two that is then dramatized in Chapter Ten and referred to again in Chapter Thirty but the repetition never does anything but serve as a reminder; to be effective, each instance should go further, do something different. Actually, reading this novel cleared up a few problems I've been having with repetition in fiction. Scott recently criticised me for cyclically referencing information in a short story. He kept saying that repetition is fine as long as it then goes further than the last mention. I didn't get what he was telling me until I read this book and found myself thinking, "Yeah, yeah, we know that already" and wishing Goodman would then add some new detail or twist to it. Overall, The Lake of Dead Languages is a lovely study in the poetics of description and it's a great example of writing about your passions, but even these aspects don't save a transparent plot. After all, the novel is ultimately a mystery and to be effective, a mystery should keep the reader guessing. Task at Hand: Grading portfolios. woo hoo. Quest for Publication: I got a snotty letter from one of the magazines that I withdrew a story from, admonishing me that they assume I withdrew because I had done a "simulataneous submission" (submitting a story to bunch of publications at once) and if I had read their submission guidelines, I would know that they frown upon simultaneous submissions. Well, la di da, next time I'll make sure I just send one submission to one magazine per round and wait three to six months for you to get around to rejecting me. I mean, who wouldn't mind being fucking NINETY YEARS OLD before their first story gets published??? I also received one rejection AFTER I withdrew the story. Plus, my quasi-lesbian story got rejected yet again. Total Submissions: 20 Rejections: 6 Acceptances: 1 Withdrawals: 7 Upbraidings: 1