…And thinking about, well, everything, and life, and writing.
I’m thinking about writing something, maybe a coming-of-age story or a love story or a wistful story about my island where I spent time when I was young. Then I wonder how I can weave in a killer on a killing spree. There has to be blood, always. I don’t quite know what the hell is wrong with me.
Alfred Hitchcock told suspense stories, and I don’t remember much blood or gore. But every time I watch Psycho I get the creeps. It has to be the dialogue. It’s just so awkward. I think we all know someone like poor shy Norman. You just know if you say the wrong thing, you’ll not only hurt his feelings, but you might end up stabbed to death. So don’t be such a bitch to people, friends. So much has been said about this movie masterpiece already, so maybe I’ll write about all the movies inspired by Ed Gein. (Again, I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me.)
I love Psycho, it’s my favorite Hitchcock. But not my favorite Hitchcock woman – that would be Tippi Hedron. I think her look was ahead it’s time. She was sexy in kind of a racy way, like a sexy big sister to the virginal Grace Kelly. The Jill Monroe to the Chris (If you know me you’ll get the reference).
And I’m still thinking, about what to write next, where to go next, what to eat. I’m not a planner and I have not much for breakfast, and probably very little gas in the car. What I’m really itching to do is drive up to San Francisco, and stand under the Golden Gate Bridge, the same place Kim Novak stood where she plunged herself into the water in Vertigo. It’s actually one of my little spots, where I go to think about everything, and life, and writing. How can you not be inspired?
Dammit, now I’ve wasted a morning mini-post on Hitchcock women. This could be a whole “thing”. I guess I’m goin’ with Ed Gein.