I find myself thinking of my “old friend” Mike Bannock. Maybe I will think about that when I write future stories about Mike and his family. While Mike is not a model husband nor Heather and Timothy flawless children, they are all fervently attached to Rosie. In Further Tales of Opossum Creek (the sequel to Poor Folk) I hope to write one of the stories this weekend after I’ve finished reading Helga’s Diary. It will be called, “It Ain’t Over Till the Fat Lady Sings.”
Mike tells the reader, “I would do anything to make Rosie happy. Which is why I agreed to take her to the opera. Until then I simply detested opera. I remember Dad and I watched Wagner on PBS (we didn’t have cable) and wondering if perhaps we couldn’t have skipped the pompous ass and read a book–any book–instead of catching the musical great I later learned was Hitler’s favorite composer.” The upshot of watching Tosca is that Mike discovers that he likes “at least one opera” after all, “Because the villain—a priest of all things—was as wicked as the Wicked Witch of the West in The Wonderful Wizard of Oz. There is nothing that makes a good story like a juicy villain. Why, I have noticed in Dickens that though every person cries for Little Nell’s death, what really draws attention in the book is the perfidy of Quilp. Yes, it is suffering and sin that make for a good story. Anyway, I saw a movie about Hitler afterwards, and I swear that evil priest could compete with the German film’s portrayal of the most evil man in human history. Because of this I even promised Rosie that we could see Bela Bartok’s Bluebeard’s Castle.”
I may end up writing “It’s All Over When the Fat Lady Sings” on Monday or Tuesday and putting off reading Napoleon: A Life because of that. It will be fun just to be in the habit of writing. Tomorrow, I shall write more for The Book of the Cats of Irlak. I will not, however, read more or do any writing tonight. And I hope I haven’t given away too many spoilers in my story for it to be fun to read for anybody who has already read this Blog.