Friday, January 20, 2006
Page 15
AT THE SIDEBAR (Column) Drama Queen Takes the Stage
By J’AMY PACHECO
If you’ve ever known a little girl, you’re probably familiar with the term, “Drama Queen.” Drama queens have a gift for turning the most insignificant thing into an issue or event of monumental proportion.
There is a Web site dedicated to drama queens that contains a quiz designed to help one determine if she (or he) is one. It contains questions such as this:
“You spot a bump on the back of your arm that you’ve never noticed before. Do you assume that you are dying of cancer?” An affirmative response brings the quiz-taker one step closer to being crowned a drama queen. Unless you have a worrisome bump on your arm at the moment, you probably get the picture.
I know all about drama queens. I should. I gave birth to the Queen Mother of them all.
Ordinarily, having a drama queen in residence means only that you have to be careful what you say, what facial expressions you exhibit and which words you select with which to awaken Herself.
But they can get complicated, as I’ve recently learned. My drama queen, it seems, wants to star in a major motion picture.
It started with a novel titled, “Inkheart.” I bought the book last year, primarily because it was a thick book on clearance for $2.95. I can never resist a big book on sale, so I thought I’d put it aside for Her Majesty to read when she was older.
I started the book, though, and was immediately hooked by the story of a young girl, Meggie, who discovers that her father has a gift for reading characters out of stories and into the real world. When I was about halfway through, I made the mistake of telling my daughter that the book was great.
She immediately took possession, and fell in love with the story. When the sequel, “Inkspell,” came out, she begged me to buy it hot off the presses, at full, hardbound price. I did.
A few months ago, we learned that Inkheart was to be made into a movie. I thought that was very good news, until I learned that my bookworm wanted to take her dramatics to the next level — she wants to play the part of Meggie.
Now, I’m not one for killing off a dream. In fact, I encourage my daughter, and everybody else I know who aspires to anything, to pursue their dreams.
But we’re not exactly an entertainment industry family. Tori Spelling she ain’t. Nepotism isn’t going to get her up on the silver screen.
She’s got some experience – she went to a school of the arts for four years. She sang alone on stage in a moving performance of “No Turkey for Perky” — at age five. She dressed up as a wealthy rancher and spoke in a Texas drawl to co-star as Miz Lurleen in “Bubba, the Cowboy Prince” a few years later.
But when she dialed Radio Disney to answer a math problem for a phone-in contest, she froze when it rang and hung up — even though she knew the answer. I don’t know what would happen if she found herself standing in front of a film production crew with the bazillion-dollar-a-minute clock ticking.
Complicating matters, when it comes to film production, I know nothing. I wouldn’t have a clue how to point her in the direction of an acting career.
Getting information isn’t the problem; I have little fear of picking up the phone and swapping howdies with strangers. But where to start? “Hello, Hollywood? J’Amy here. Listen, I have a question…”
My daughter has been following an online discussion between fans of the book, all of whom are apparently ‘tween girls wanting to play Meggie. She came to me a few days ago, hands in her pockets and head down. A more tragic look had never been achieved.
Turns out, someone on the discussion board said auditions would be held in Europe, and only girls trained in English drama schools would be considered. Or something like that.
My daughter was devastated. And she was really good at showing it, too.
The drama queen Web site has a lot of information for budding royalty, but nothing about how to get an audition for a major motion picture. So it looks like this is one dream that’s going to have to die a slow death on its own.
I know we’ve got a few weeks of drama in front of us. When the part is cast, we’ll probably have to endure a bit of mourning, and maybe some depression. But like everything else, it will eventually pass.
If it takes too long, well, I can always mention that little bump on the back of her arm…
Copyright 2006, Metropolitan News Company