Sexy voices rock my world

Andy Garcia’s voice makes my heart go pitty-pat…  There’s just something about his deep, gruff, velvet voice that is so appealing.  My children rented “Beverly Hills Chiuaua” and I just kept imagining what Garcia would look like, with Drew Barrymore, if the leads were not dogs.  Thank goodness I have a vivid imagination.

His is not the only voice that makes me quiver.  Antonio Banderas… Robert Downey Jr. … Robert Pattinson… Mandy Patinkin… Patrick Stewart…  Vin Diesel…  Nicolas Cage…  Will Smith…  Denzel Washington…  Patrick Dempsey…  Josh Lucas… of course, the Old Spice Guy.  I tend to lean toward (non-Canadian) accents when they are present.  Exotic.  And uniforms… give me a good-looking man in a uniform, and I’m his.  Toss in the accent, and I’m in a puddle on the floor.

Now, is it important to see the faces?  Well, judging from my attentiveness to BHC, no.  I could be listening to them on the radio, and be purring.

The birth of a new character – whose vision is it?

I wonder, sometimes, when watching “The Princess Bride” or “Sharkboy and Lavagirl” or “The Neverending Story” – any film that is a narrative of a book – whose vision of the characters are we seeing?  Yes, the director and casting director have made their choices, but are they representative of how the storyteller envisions the characters?  How the child listening sees them in his/her mind?  Or are they seen as their original writer intended?  I know I’m overthinking it, but still, it’s all about interpretation.  When a book is made into a movie, sometimes the fans are disappointed by that interpretation.  I like to think of a film that is based on a book, as an advertisement for that book – it’s a single person’s look at the story, and another filmmaker might do something different that could suck or be completely wonderful.  I write short plays for my students, usually to make sure everyone has a part, and I teach them how to write plays.  But I would love to try a screenplay, just once.  And the book I would do it for, is Robin McKinley’s “The Blue Sword” – the first full novel I ever read, when I was 8 or 9, and one that is empowering, has a strong female lead, takes place in an exotic yet familiar locale, could be filmed entirely in Canada, and would be a fantastic movie.  But that’s on a remote back-burner, probably for a long time.  I just dream about it.  And for now, concentrate on the stories that want to come to life, from my own imagination.


There is a beautiful storm just to the northwest right now – it’s pitch black, and the lightning flashes are illuminating the edges of the cloudbank.  My children are in bed, thank goodness – if they saw this, it might scare them.  I love it.  I would love to bring out a chair, just to sit and watch it pass, feeling the cool wash of air over my face and arms after the stickiness of the humidity.  The distant rumbles of thunder are strangely soothing.  But I worry that one of them might come down looking for me, and so I’m inside.  Also, I am exhausted, and I need to go to bed much earlier than I have been.  But still…I dream of one day having a gloriously wide wrap-around porch, from which I might sit with a cup (or a pot) of tea and enjoy the wonders of an evening summer storm.

What do you think is romantic?

How do you bring romance into your life?  What do you look for to give you those warm, fuzzy feelings… or that hot, sexy feeling?  Are you surprised when romance happens, or do you plan for it and enjoy it arriving when expected?  What’s better – surprise or planning?  Unexpected or scheduled?  Random act of romance, or knowing (and anticipating) that it was coming?  Is this why we read romance novels – to get both?