The Writer's Life 9/27 - Ends in a Vowel

An author with a surname that ends in a vowel always captures my attention. Such was the case with Cecil Castellucci, described in the blurb for Rose Sees Red as "YA Superstar." I was not surprised to discover the author is female, despite the first name. Set in 1982, the novel's protagonist is a lonely Bronx girl on the cusp of 16, an aspiring ballerina of modest ability who attends the High School of Performing Arts. Her life changes when her next door neighbor, the child of Russian parents who work at the consulate, crawls through her window one night. Also a dancer, the two immediately bond, elude the two-man detail trailing them, and embark on an all-night adventure in Manhattan, with a sleepover at a classmate's home in Staten Island. They return to the city the next day for a no-nukes rally, a real life event attended, according to an online article in the NY Times, by possibly as much as 700,000 people in and around Central Park. While reading, I wondered if the author had resurrected an old manuscript. Although the thinking is probably accurate regarding most of the attendees in liberal NYC, it seems stale in light of history. President Reagan's hard line began the Soviet Union's demise, not demonstrations. Of course, the possibility of nuclear annihilation is still with us, most likely to be delivered by Muslim fanatics, possibly North Korea. Aside from this sappy nostalgic chapter, the novel is okay. The dialogue, despite the absence of profanity, and actions of the teens is authentic. Except for the protagonist's former best friend, these are nice kids. The writing is smooth, the 197 pages reading like considerably less. The heart of the narrative is always in the right place. At one point the protagonist muses: "Aren't we all different and the same?"15 users at Amazon have rated Rose Sees Red, forging to a consensus of 4.1 on a scale of five. In my view, the novel's appeal is limited almost strictly to teens. Castellucci has an interesting personal history. She grew up in NYC, attending PA herself. She earned a degree in film production from Concordia U. in Montreal, where, post graduation, she joined an indy rock band. She had a hand in several recordings with bands Bite, Nerdy Girl, and as solo artist Cecil Seaskull. I'm not familiar with any of the music. In addition to her many novels, she has done graphic novels, an independent film, and a libretto for an opera. Now 47, she lives in L.A..

Here are famous people - names I recognize - who attended but did not not necessarily graduate from PA: Jennifer Aniston, Al Pacino, Isaac Mizrahi, Dom DeLuise, Billy Dee Williams, Ellen Barkin, Jessica Walter, Helen Slater, Suzanne Pleshette, Suzanne Vega, Janet Margolin, Marlon Wayans, Ving Rhames, Esai Morales, Gene Anthony Ray, Steven Weber, Amy Ryan, Elizabeth Peña, Nancy Allen. And here's a still from that famous scene in Fame (1980).

Another sports scandal is about to rock the NCAA, as the FBI did the policing the organization failed to do. I'm not sure the issue is worth the time and effort of law enforcement, as surely there are more pressing ones, but here we are. No one will be surprised. The corruption at the top level is obvious. Heads will roll - Rick Petino's seems to be the first. Reform will be promised, but there's so much money at stake that I don't know what may be done. There will be calls for players to be paid - as if that would end the cheating! There has always been chicanery at the college level, but today's seems monumental. I suppose it's naive, but I'd love to see academic standards followed. Is it too much to ask that the players actually be student-athletes? I suppose this would incite accusations of racism. Here's a shot of Petino, the first Division I coach to win a championship at different schools, Kentucky and Louisville:

Man, it was hot out there today. I was drained when I got home. My thanks to my only customer of the day, a woman who asked where I'd been, who bought Goddess of Vengeance by Jackie Collins, Tickled Pink by Rita Rudner, and The Black Echo by Michael Connelly. I've been under the scaffold, Lady, out of the sun, at my usual nook. Parking was unavailable in the area this morning.
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