Film locations for The Silver Stopper

The first draft of the script for the short film about Colette is finished! It wrote itself really; it’s been amazingly quick and easy. I’m not too sure about the title of the short film, though: I like my title The Silver Stopper for the Colette short story, but I wonder if it’s not exciting enough for a film. It needs something more thrilling, something that says: Parisian love triangle circa 1905! In the classiest way possible, of course.

The director, Toni, and I went to see the Katherine Mansfield house in Thorndon, recreated as it would have been when Katherine was growing up there in the 1890s. It’s beautiful, and would be perfect as a film location. We haven’t yet asked them if we can film in the house — I will be surprised if they say yes, to be honest (I had to hand over my bag in case it scratched the wallpaper, so I can’t imagine they’ll want actors lounging around in corsets on the white, lacy bedcovers or sitting on the embroidered chairs), but it won’t hurt to ask.

The hunt for locations begins! We need a 1900s kitchen, two bedrooms, two salons, and a hallway with stairs. This last requirement will seem odd if you live in Europe, where most hallways have stairs. But the only stairs in our home, and in most people’s homes here, are for going up or down (steep hills) to the front door. Stairs are almost exotic! We also need a horse — you’d think the horse would be the most difficult character to find, but in the weird, wonderful and surprising place that is New Zealand, we already have a few potential horsey actors.

The script is different from the story in that I’ve taken out all scenes of Parisian exteriors — it’s impossible to make Wellington look like Paris, so we’re not going to waste our time trying. There are three exterior scenes, but these are in gardens and woods, which can easily stand in for Paris. Never mind, descriptions of beautiful grey brick walls, pale blue shutters, and wrought iron balconies bursting with red geraniums, I haven’t abandoned you, I’m still keeping you in Nights in Paris!

J’ai fini le premier brouillon de mon scénario pour un film sur Colette! C’est épatant! Maintenant il faut trouver une ancienne maison pour filmer… pas façile en Nouvelle Zélande!

The art of accepting rejection graciously

Why is rejection so painful? Goodness knows I should be well versed it by now. With each competition I enter, I am so hopeful, so sure that this time I will win! I am getting closer — runner-up isn’t bad — but it’s never good enough. When it was the Sunday Star Times short story prize-giving (a big event with champagne and media, even lovely Helen C) and I won third prize, the runners-up crowded around me with congratulations. I was determined to keep smiling graciously even if it killed me, but all I wanted to do was burst into noisy, heart-broken sobs. One nice lady exclaimed, ‘Oh, you must be delighted!’ It took a super-human effort to stop myself from snorting, ‘Delighted? I’m devastated!’

There’s a scene in Fame (remember that ’80s programme?!) where the beautiful swan-like dancing teacher throws a girl out of her class for not having passion. ‘But I only want to dance in the third chorus line!’ the poor girl pleads. ‘That’s the problem,’ the teacher says, ‘just to get to the back of the stage, you have to want to be the star.’

Four rejections in one week — it was rather harsh, and I was a bit blue for that week. But never mind, it just makes me even more determined for next time. As Liza Minelli sings, so earnestly hopeful, in Cabaret, ‘Maybe this time I’ll be lucky, maybe this time I’ll win’. It’s all about the taking part — what utter nonsense. Don’t be so soft. It’s all about the winning.

Pourquoi ça fait si mal d’être rejetée? Je devrais être habituée. A chaque fois, je suis absolument certaine de gagner. Cette fois-çi, ça va marcher, ça ne peux pas rater! Quatre concours ratés en huit jours: aïe! Mais il faut toujours re-essayer: il faut gagner.