Once, I was Scarlett Johansson

Today, I actually got down to it –– that is revising the 358 pages of my novel as per my new agent’s minor but important suggestions –– and it was intense and kinda amazing.
There was A LOT of subconscious resistance to this.  Like every character on every Bravo show, my mind keeps whispering in the background “Everything Is at Stake,” and therefore finding tons of subtle excuses not to buckle down, man up, and finish what’s required.  [That, and I’ve committed to an intense spiritual practice every day for the next 28 days before leaving for Alaska –– EVERYTHING is rising to the surface, meaning breakthrough/breakdown time is happening on all fronts.]
But today, I plunged completely in and well … it’s happening.
I have crafted out several music mixes for when I’m writing –– they must be wordless and largely classical and repetitive, without dramatic melodies that distract too much.  I’ve mapped them out in one hour segments –– the most I can work without a real break –– each framed by the Aria from the Goldberg Variations (the Dinnerstein recording, as she is my hero/new friend.)
Tonight I was trying to remember Thomas Harris’ brilliant phrase about the variations in his novel SILENCE OF THE LAMBS.  From memory I recalled it mostly but it’s “The music, beautiful beyond plight and time, filled the bright cage and the room where the warders sat.”  In looking it up, I stumbled upon three extraordinary essays from NPR by Jeremy Denk that really spoke to me right now, listening to the aria –– heard at the beginning and then repeated 32 variations later –– as I revise, revise, revise.
Here’s what he has to say –– after speaking about the use of the Variations in SILENCE OF THE LAMBS:

“If I may evoke another, quite different, famous moment in film, I’d refer to the moment when Bill Murray whispers inaudibly in Scarlett Johansson’s ear at the end of Lost in Translation.
 
What does Bill Murray learn when Lost in Translation ends?
 
Now some of you might carp that this is a cheesy moment in the film, the laziness of a scriptwriter out of words. Who knows, perhaps you are right. We are left to speculate: what has Bill Murray learned? What was so important to say? What advice is he sharing? Is he declaring his love for her, leaving his wife, or realizing maturely that this weird moment is over and unrepeatable? Whatever it is, it must be the perfect thing. I like to imagine that Bill is explaining Scarlett’s greatness to her, in a way she will cherish the rest of her life.
 
There you are, listening to the Goldbergs. The Aria comes back. You are much older now than you were when you first heard it. Perhaps you’re Bill Murray now and you were Scarlett Johansson then. Yes, that’s what the Aria does when it comes back, it whispers in your ear, the thing you needed to hear, the thing you needed to know. Though this realization is coming to you through Bach, whatever Bach brings out in you here is yours, it comes from you, belongs to you; the other function of the Goldbergs is to give you back your best self.”
 

* * * * *

Wow –– can someone please explain my greatness to me in a way that I will cherish for the rest of my life…or remind me of the thing I needed to hear, the thing I needed to know… or maybe it’s enough that the function of the Goldbergs is simply to bring me back to my best self.
“Beautiful, beyond plight and time.”
Revise…Revise…Revise.
 

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