hrmm

(written at a previous date)

    Dear Harriet Walter,

    Have just been reading the livejournal pages of people who are friends with somebody on lj who I stalk. Am now looking at my own, new little blog here and seeing it as weird.

    Not so much the content (hah) as the format, though. I write letters/posts to you mainly because my mom told me several times over the course of last year that I should totally write letters to you, when I'd be enthusing and grinning and wiggling over how awesome you were and giggle-squealing about how much I loved you and so on.

    This is just how it worked out. I'm pretty sure she meant paper-and-ink-and-expensive-postage letters or something. The woman has strange ideas.

    (She told me a few times that I should write to David Burke back when she and I were on our big Sherlock Holmes kick. Love that man. Never did anything about it.)

    I've been meaning to write more lately anyway, so it's a nice little arrangement. (I keep meaning to write fiction, but "creative nonfiction" aka blather keeps getting produced instead. Woe.)

    Anyway the question that I raised to myself today was, how long am I going to be able to slip in enough Harriet-centric or Harriet-related posts to justify the way the blog is presented?

    (I know, it's rather early days to wonder that, but this tiny little nook of the internet is the only potentially long-term thing I feel like I have any real control over and so I muse and brood and fuss over it.)

    Any by Jove, Dame Harriet, but the movies and TV shows you've been in are fearfully obscure. I've gotten my hands on the easy ones already, but soon I will have to start blind-buying things off Amazon and irritating my family by surreptitiously stuffing things into the Netflix queue because they have HW bit-parts. (And then not always watching them immediately.)

    At some point I'll have to go back over things I've already seen but saw pre-blog and write second impressions, I suppose. I'll make my sister watch Macbeth, huurhurhurculture. Although I'd want to watch it again anyway after your book, which I for some reason have not finished. (It it sitting squashed underneath I, Claudius and a collection of Lovecraft.)