Reintroduction to the wild, and some book chat

Welp, it finally happened. Last Saturday, I had my first for-real, non-parental, non-work-or-dance-class-related social event in over a year.

It was…odd.

I mean, it was really, really nice, but still. Odd. I went to Sunnyvale to visit FSIWIMMT (you may remember her from Christmas) and her parents. She flew in from Austin on day fifteen after her second vaccination. Her parents are fully vaccinated. I’m fully vaccinated. We were all in the same place. Without masks. It took a hot minute to get used to that, let me tell you.

We had a lovely dinner and a wonderful conversation, and it really drove home what I’ve been saying this whole time--that there’s a difference between necessary social interaction and voluntary social interaction. That difference is the level of fulfillment. Spending in-person time with smart, funny people who have known me my entire life is far more fulfilling than seeing my co-workers every day. If you think about it, it’s obvious, but experiencing it makes it all the more real. I didn’t get home until after midnight, and then I was riding such a high I couldn’t sleep. Of course, part of that was over-stimulation. Having been deprived of most meaningful social interaction for over a year, the sudden influx was a shock. I’m guessing it’s going to be that way for a while, honestly.

On a related topic, FSIWIMMT’s mother has recently published her first novel, The Ballad of Billy Shay. You should buy it, and read it, and leave a review. I am under no obligation to mention this--I’m doing so because I love her.

Book talk gives me a lovely segue into a really cool thing that has happened not once, but twice this week!

Antony Sher—actor, writer, artist, and all-around cool dude—has always been a favorite of mine since I first read Year of the King in college, which is basically his diary from his time rehearsing and performing Richard III with the Royal Shakespeare Company in 1984. It includes a great number of his sketches and artworks from that time as well. Over the years I have read several of his novels, and recently picked up one of his newer releases, Year of the Mad King, a book in the same format as the aforementioned Year of the King, but this time surrounding his process of rehearsing King Lear with the RSC in 2016, directed by Sher’s husband and RSC Artistic Director Gregory Doran.

I caught a glimpse of the white rabbit--which, in this case, was a reminder of all the reasons I love Shakespeare and the creative process--and down the rabbit hole I went.

Since most of Sher's books are out of print, I hit up Alibris.com (For books you thought you’d never find! ™ Why do I remember their tagline?!) and ordered the remainder of his bibliography. Used copies, all of them. They’ve been showing up sporadically, which is fun, because it’s like Christmas. Kind of. My copy of his novel Cheap Lives showed up last Saturday. I opened the package, pulled the book out, gave it a flick-through, and then I noticed it.

IT’S A SIGNED COPY.

Signed! That wasn’t in the description from the seller! I was terribly excited. The only annoying thing about it is that it says “To Julie”, and obviously my name isn’t Julie, but still. SIGNED. COPY. Also, is it weird that I kind of hope that Julie passed peacefully away in her sleep? It seems like a dick move to offload a personalized signed book while you’re still kicking around. Maybe it’s just me.

On Monday, another couple of books arrived. They were opened. Flicked through. And, lo and behold, ANOTHER SIGNED COPY! Only this time, there were two signatures. Woza Shakespeare! Titus Andromicus in South Africa, detailing the process of a production of Shakespeare’s bloodiest tragedy led by Mr. Sher and Mr. Doran--both of whose signatures are on the title page.

I just about died.

Then I had to call my mother, because there was no one I knew who would be as excited as I was about this, and as my mother she’s contractually obligated to be enthusiastic about my enthusiasm, so I forced her to listen to me fangirl over RSC royalty like a ten year old girl does over…whatever it is that ten year old girls fangirl over these days. One Direction? Is it still One Direction? I don’t know. I’m old. Get off my lawn.

It’s been a good week on the literary front in the Fazzio household. There’s one more book to come, but it’s a play text, so I don’t expect it to be signed. Still, though. Two unexpected signed copies, one with bonus Greg Doran (!), makes for a very happy Elizabeth.