Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Last week, I was bored and somebody left "Little Mermaid" in the DVD player. Which is exactly why I sat down and pressed play. I don't ordinarily sit down and turn on Disney cartoons and jive along to them (not that that I'd admit to it), but there is something special about Little Mermaid. It's one of those "Takes me back to my childhood" type of things. But that's besides the point.
The point as it occurred to me - the adult who obsesses about avoiding plotholes and 'duhs' in my mss - the whole point of the story is that Ariel exchanges her voice for legs. The good news is she can run around in the sand and discover what is fire and why it burns (yes, hot-romance authors/readers would have fun with that). The bad news is she can't talk to the prince and tell him She's the One, the One he's been looking for. The first suspicion is The Boy isn't going to be all that crazy about a girl he first meets wrapped in canvas and nothing else (yes, hot-romance authors/readers would have fun with that too), and that makes Ariel freak out until Ursula swings her octo-hips around and tells her to use her BODY LANGUAGE.
All good, right?
Well... see, my thing is Ariel had to sign the scroll. Which she did with a fish bone in her right hand, and according to the broadway musical, she even dotted the 'i' with a heart.
If she could sign her name (indeed she had a prettier and more legible signature than I have), then how come she couldn't just write The Boy a letter explaining everything?
The 'what if' could take a iconic turn. Something like the usual - 'this gal is really a clever Polish worker named Anna out to gyp the entire royal family. But she says she's really our dear sweet St. Anastasia Romanov (I could be wrong, but I think she's listed as a saint in the Orthodox church)'.
Could be fun + exploration into the frailties and triumphs of human nature.
I mean, if somebody wrote you a letter claiming to be a mermaid who grew legs just so she could be with you - you'd either think that's the weirdest pickup line ever (really!) or that the dear red-haired girl, who brushes her hair with forks and has a pet miniature crab who apparently is in a zombie state after being boiled to death (unless I'm totally wrong and they ARE bright red prior to boiling), is stark raving mad.
And let's be honest - the way The Boy was set up, he probably would have patted her on the head and thought she was insane but hilariously cute. Since he hadn't laughed in months, a girl who made him laugh was a keeper.
Writing - stalled. I've been fighting off some kind of seasonal-change issue or maybe a bug. Just means I'm good to go during the day, but basically comatose in the evenings. And because I fall asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow, I'm not even doing my usual plotting/daydreams.