Travel Tuesday- Heading to Oz

OK, I am totally cheating, but I just have to share a fantastic experience I had recently.

About a year ago, a friend of mine encouraged (cajoled) me into finally reading Wicked, which I instantly and thoroughly loved. So when tickets for the musical went on sale at the Hippodrome in Baltimore, I pounced on it and took my sister for her birthday.

I love theater. I've actually been joking with my man a lot lately about how I am heading down a dangerous path of becoming a very broke theater snob, as my list of "to sees" starts to outnumber my free weekends and free funds. Wicked only furtherered this.

Now, for those of you who have read the book, I have to warn you that the two are night and day. They share a premise, but have about as much right to share the same name as Emma and Clueless would. And really, that is a great metaphor. Like Emma, Wicked is fantastic literature, and like Clueless, the musical version takes something of a heavy concept and makes it accessible and fun.

Fun is very much the operative word. From outstanding sets to the amazing talent of the performers and costumes that stole the show, Wicked is fun. I left the theater feeling that I really had just returned from my trip to Oz.

If it comes your way, I recommend giving it a try. You could end up with a big smile like these too goofballs (me and my sister). 

Something Wicked This Way Comes...

I am late to the party again, but for you few and faithful readers, I return to a theme I've expressed before. I LOVE it when a piece of fiction, be it a book or a movie, can make me see something in a new way, or understand something I didn't understand before. It is with this in mind that this week, nearly 15 years late, I must sing the praises of Wicked.

If you somehow have managed to have not heard of this book, it is both a retelling of the Wizard of Oz from the perspective of the Wicked Witch of the West (or Elphaba as she is called) AND a prequel to the first book in Baum's series. With steely prose, author Greg Maguire constructs for us a main character that you love to hate and cannot help but understand, and a very different picture of the beloved Dorothy as hapless and tragic.

So why am I talking about it now, when so many of you know it and have probably read it already? Because despite some things in the book that irritated me (i.e. an extremely rushed ending), it accomplished what I think should be one of the primary goals of art-- it changed my perspective. It made me rethink and evaluate. It called into play that we are only ever hearing one side of a story. Fiction should open our minds, and this book definately reminded me of that.

If you've read Max and Menna, you know how much I enjoy to tell a tale from all angles. Consequently, the theme of the reader only ever seeing one side of the story is one I play upon extensively in my next novel. Stay tuned...