InsaneJournal

I’m going to see the film version of Where the Wild Things Are tomorrow.  I’m really excited about it since it’s based on what probably was my most favorite picture book when I was little.  

My mother is going with me, she’s a children’s book dealer and loves Maurice Sendak (as do I).  Of course I sort of got her to accompany me on false pretenses.  I deliberately failed to mention to her that Where the Wild Things are was directed by Spike Jonze, the man who brought us Being John Malkovich.  I’m not sure how or why, but years ago mum somehow managed to get into a showing of Being John Malkovich and will occasionally make reference to “that awful film with the lesbians.”  Mum really is-- how do they say it-- a piece of work.