Absence of Sorts

It seems I have been somewhat absent of late. Well, actually I had forgotten this blog even existed if truth be told, hence it being well over a year since my last post. Pity really, considering just how much has changed, drastically changed at that, in that time. But that, I fear is another very long story for another very long day. Suffice to say the facts simply put are as follows:

• The relationship I last spoke of, while in turns fantastic, terrible and one of the biggest learning curves I have ever encountered has ended, as all things must eventually.
• I did go on to be possibly the best productions officer Dramat has ever seen. (well, at least in the time I have been there) and more recently the ISDA officer, and am even an ISDA nominated Director. (Most definitely one of the proudest moments of my life.)
• I have been diagnosed as a Coeliac. Yeah.
  
• I completed my MA with a fabulous 2.1. Job well done I reckon.
• I am currently unemployed and still living in Cork.

So what brings me back here? Well as I have said I am currently unemployed, something I apparently do not take too kindly to as I find it incredibly difficult having nothing to do. This has lead to a huge increase in writing on my part. I have been writing by the new time: plays, stories, poems, even books, I have been scribbling away. A while back I was home alone feeling mightily sorry for myself ) as one often does when home alone with very little to distract oneself). Bridget Jone's Diary seemed the most appropriate inappropriate film to watch. As I sat there, feeling both delight and disdain for the blossoming romance evolving in front of me, I hit upon an excellent idea. It is a truth universally known that Bridget Jone's Diary is a contemporary rehashing of Jane Austen's wonderful Pride and Prejudice, and that it started life as a simple newspaper column. The same goes for Sex and the City. (the newspaper column bit, not the Pride and Prejudice bit, that would be taking a rehashing of a classic about one hundred steps too far. Although, if you replace conventional family with urban family, I suppose the base ingredients aren't too far off....but I'm straying from the point). The new newspaper column it would appear, is the blog. There are very few people in the world today who don't at the very least Tweet their existence. Getting noticed in this world of millions of blogs is never going to be easy, but where there's a will....
Which bring me to the second truth most universally acknowledged: In every girl lies one of Austen's heroines. That is to say it is most impossible to find a fan of Austen who does not identify completely with one particular heroine of Austen's. This is evident in 'The Jane Austen Book Club', while not particularly cleverly written, or appealing, the basic message I do agree with. There's a bit of Austen in all of us. It's why she's still kicking around after all. My friend Una, for example, while Emma is her favourite, were she to embody anyone, it would be Elizabeth Bennett. For my own part, while Lizzie may be my favourite and while I will always have a soft spot for Elinor, I do believe I am a modern day Catherine Morland.
I live my life in the stories of others, I really do get carried away by my imagination (much to my detriment, I assure you), I even on occasion see things that really aren't there (by which I mean see things in a way which is often the opposite to the reality) and I most definitely believe I am a heroine on the cusp of a great adventure through which I will find my knight in shining armour. That last one refuses to let up, however sensible I try to be.
So my great idea? A contemporary retelling of Northanger Abbey, told through the fascinating and increasingly popular mode of the web log, or blog as it is known.
Catherine Morland becomes Cathy Watkins, rather than leaving for Bath by way of starting her adventure, she is starting college (it is after all, among other things, a coming of age story), she is Irish, as I am, for it is what I know best, and she like me, lives constantly with her nose in a book, a film or a tv show, is easily swayed through her naivete and honesty by less than honest friends and discovers all the delights one does as one starts college. I can't say that there will be castles and cranky widowers and marriage proposals, but there will be men, drinking, parties and even a little bit of sex.
How many people read and how many people enjoy it remains to be seen, but as I said, where there's a will, there is always a way. There is nothing left for me to do now but, well, start.