Bev Vincent

On Saturday, my latest Storytellers Unplugged essay went live: The Agent Panel. It’s a recap of a panel at the Houston Writers Guild conference I attended a week or so ago.

I finished and submitted the story I’ve been working on lately, and now my desk is clear. It’s back to the novel. However, I’ve decided that instead of plunging in, trying to unravel and reweave the first draft without a plan, I’m going to break it down and outline it. One of the changes my agent suggested is fairly major–an influential character will no longer die in the first chapter, so now I have to bring the character into the story, which is a fairly complicated revision. I’ve never been big on outlines–but I’ve never managed to produce a saleable novel, so maybe it’s time to try a different approach!

We had very heavy rains yesterday. I was going to do some yard work. Darn. Hate it when that happens.

A diligent editor contacted me over the weekend to say he had no record of paying me for a story. I hadn’t been expecting payment until publication, but it’s always nice when an editor stays on top of things like that. When I logged the payment, which was sent moments after I confirmed it was due, I noticed another story published last year still has payment outstanding. I’m not always very diligent about staying on top of such matters, I’m afraid. Sometimes things slip between the cracks. A polite reminder sent off to the editor in question.

My coffee table stack of recent anthologies that contain one or more of my stories is growing. Currently I have Evolve, Dead Set and When the Night Comes Down. Soon to be added to the stack: Close Encounters of the Urban Kind, which has my contest-winning tale “The Fingernail Test.”

I finished Robert B. Parker’s Split Image and read most of Charlie Huston’s Already Dead this weekend. It’s the first of his Joe Pitt novels featuring a vampire who functions as something of a private investigator in the underworld. New York has been divided into vampire gang turfs, but Pitt is a “rogue,” not aligned with any of the gangs, and he survives only because he provides valuable services. Huston’s explanation of how vampires are created and exist (zombies, too), is interesting. I see elements that also come up in Sleepless, his most recent book. Not bad, though a little overcomplicated.

On Friday night we watched Capitalism: A Love Story, Michael Moore’s latest movie. Though it contained a few interesting set pieces, I found it overall less satisfying than his earlier films. For one thing, I don’t share people’s indignation over companies taking out life insurance against their employees. Since it is legal for them to do so, I don’t know what the uproar is about. The family isn’t losing out, as far as I can see. I know it’s an emotionally charged issue, but it simply doesn’t bother me. Also, there’s a lot of gnashing of teeth over the bailout, but that’s old news and a lot of the money has been or will be paid back. It’s not a popular opinion these days, but I think the bailout served its purpose.

On Saturday, we watched Coco Avant Chanel, a biopic about the early years of Coco Chanel staring Amelie’s Audrey Tautou. It starts with Coco and her sister being dropped off at an orphanage, then jumps ahead a number of years to when she’s a young adult trying to sing in burlesque clubs. She insinuates herself into the home of a rich patron, who uses her as entertainment for his guests as she uses him as a lever to get to Paris. Along the way she falls in love with another man. From what I’ve read, it’s mostly fact based, though it glosses over a few incidents. It also doesn’t advance to the point where Chanel fell out of favor with the French because of her activities during the second world war. Tautou is quite good in this–Chanel is fairly grim for most of the film, but Tautou keeps her fascinating. The biggest problem I had with it was figuring out when things happened–how much time elapsed from one stage to the next, especially near the end.

I wasn’t as enthralled by the third episode of Doctor Who. I totally didn’t buy Winston Churchill. However, I do like Amy Pond a lot. She and the Doctor are becoming almost a team. She’s cheeky and bright and animated, and you can just see a lot going on behind those eyes of hers. Ashes to Ashes episode 3 was good. That DNC guy is a intriguing addition to the storyline, the way he keeps everything stirred up all the time. I think an entire episode went by without Alex cogitating one bit over her place out of time.

Today on Storytellers Unplugged: The Agent Panel.

Last year I read a book called This is Not a Game by Walter Jon Williams. In the opening scenes, a puppetmaster who has been running a hugely successful ARG finds herself trapped in Indonesia after the country’s currency collapses and political instability prevents her from leaving. She mobilizes the battalion of clever players who solved the puzzles in her ARG, asking them to find a solution to her current predicament. The solution involves a fishing boat that shows up in the dark of night, along with some mercenaries. This came to mind yesterday when Neil Gaiman twittered that his fiancee was stranded in Iceland because of the volcanic activity: “Er…. Is there anyone in Reykjavik with a boat who can get @amandapalmer to Glasgow for her Saturday night gig?” he wrote. Not sure if his legion of fans came to her rescue or not.

This morning I did yet another editing pass through the new short story. Editing is a fascinating process. Just when I think I’ve gotten to the point where I’m honing word choice, I see places where entire paragraphs need to be uprooted to create a better flow through the story. Maybe I need to remove the stumbling blocks of poor word choice to see where more macroscopic issues arise.

I had a phone call from the publicist for the Edgar Awards earlier today. Apparently I’m going to be interviewed on the radio station KLVT on April 26th. That station is out of Levelland, Texas, a place that is apparently famous for some UFO sightings in the late 1950s. James McMurtry wrote a song about the town, which was covered by Robert Earl Keen.

I’m about 75% of the way through Split Image by Robert B. Parker. In addition to featuring Jesse Stone, the book has a number of appearances by characters from other Parker series. Sunny Randall is Stone’s current love interest, and her sidekick, Spike, is also present. Sunny and Spike are 1-to-1 analogs of Spenser and Hawk, except Sunny is female and Spike is gay. Also appearing are Susan Silverman, who is Sunny’s psychiatrist, and Rita Fiore, the district attorney from many Spenser novels.

So, JT gambled away his immunity idol last night on Survivor. It reminds me of a poker hand where a player thinks the other player has nothing when in fact he’s holding four queens. The heroes have completely misjudged the situation in the opposing camp, although they can be forgiven for this interpretation of a serious of bad choices by the villains in getting rid of strong male players one after another. It looks like the merge is on the horizon, so it will be interesting to see whether Sandra reveals the truth to the heroes as a way of saving her skin. I really thought Parvati had swung the votes away from Courtney, but that was really the only surprise in tribal council. I like Courtney–sorry to see her go. She’s smart and witty, has an upbeat demeanor, and I think she’d make a good sidekick in a buddy movie. Russell was amused by JT’s ploy. “I don’t even have to find idols–people are actually giving them to me.” One thing to keep in mind: This series was filmed before last season aired, so the players don’t know about Russell’s penchant for finding idols without clues, unless he’s bragged about that since getting to the island.

Peter Weller was great on Fringe this week. He brought gravitas to a role that could have just been a throw-away with someone less capable. The scene between him and Walter was especially good, and his solution to Walter’s warning was one I didn’t see coming. If you don’t want to carry a lifetime of guilt for something you’ve done, arrange it so your lifetime isn’t all that long. And he was right, too, that all the people he killed weren’t permanently dead. When he said that when first apprehended, I thought he meant there was a way to recharge their batteries, which would have been bad news for the six or seven people who’d already been autopsied!

CSI was lighter this week, if you can consider a dead woman found in the aftermath of an apartment building fire “light.” The obligatory “lab rat” episode.” A couple of young wannabe crime scene investigators are shown the ropes by Hodges, who projects himself and Wendy into the roles of field operatives. Some of it was funny, though I thought the early parody of Brass went on about 2 minutes too long. They also really beat the polarity metaphor into the ground as a symbol of Hodges’ and Wendy’s obvious attraction.

Made another editing pass through the new short story this morning, and ended up right at about 2900 words at the end. Then I posted the opening paragraph on Tom Piccirilli’s Yay or Nay Thursday thread on Facebook and immediately saw how to trim a few more words. I think I’ll make one more pass through and send it in to the target market tomorrow or Saturday. Then–I swear–it’s time to get back at the novel. I plan to do a fair amount of diagramming and outlining before I commence to actual writing again, though. I need to wrangle this unwieldy behemoth into shape before I go running off in all directions again.

One of the trailers we saw before Date Night last weekend was for the new A-Team movie and, surprise of surprises, it actually looks like it might be pretty good. As much as I liked George Peppard in Banacek and other shows, I never really watched the A-Team. I’m not sure that I saw a single episode. But this looks like fun. Not as much fun as the new Iron Man film, but I could watch it in a pinch.

Two weeks from today, I’ll be in NYC for the Edgar Awards. I commented to my wife this morning that I wasn’t at all nervous before the Stoker Awards (except for about 30 seconds before our category was announced when I thought that maybe, just maybe, the unexpected would happen) but I’m starting to get nervous about the Edgars already. It’s been three whole months since the nominations were announced, during which time I mostly had myself convinced that I didn’t stand a chance. However, since it’s a juried award, I have no barometer for how things might go. With the Stokers, I knew the weight of the recommendation ratio: 8:1, which didn’t bode well. So, against my better judgment, I’ve allowed myself to think there may be a slight possibility of a win. Scant, true, but greater than 0, which was how I’d assessed my chance in Brighton!

It’s going to be a busy day. Arrive in NYC just after noon, go to the Ellery Queen cocktail party in the afternoon, then to the hotel for the nominee mixer followed by supper and the awards presentation. Up at the crack of dawn the next day to come back home. I’m hoping to squeeze in at least a short visit with my agent, too. We’ll see.

Criminal Minds was back in Texas last night. Their previous stint here was an episode set in a Houston that looks nothing like the one I’ve known for the past 20 years. West Texas is easier to pull off in a city so close to desert. It was a fairly brutal episode, with the cop of the week becoming one of many victims. The spiked head reminded me of my namesake’s fate in Michael Slade’s Death’s Door.

On Justified, Raylan is on a stakeout outside the house where a man wanted on an outstanding warrant is holed up. He and his partner are hoping to see something that will prove he’s actually in there. Raylan tells his boss that the man’s wife is stocking up on beer. “Get a warrant,” the boss says. “You can’t get a warrant based on beer consumption,” Raylan’s partner says. “How do you know?” Raylan adjusts his hat. “We tried.” I like this show a lot. Raylan is just too cool for words. I’m still waiting for something to take him down a peg or two, but through five episodes he’s da bomb. He pretends to be an itinerant landscaper to get closer to the house, ingratiating himself with the wife. After the husband is arrested, the wife says, “I knew I shouldn’t’a trusted you.” “Back yard looks good, though, doesn’t it?” he responds. Finally we get to see the oft-mentioned Arlo, Raylan’s estranged father, and the family home, complete with Raylan’s mother’s grave in the side yard and a headstone with Raylan’s date of birth on it. Creepy!

I’m dying to find out if JT is going to do the stupid thing the previews are leading us to believe on Survivor tonight.

It’s amazing how many extraneous words end up in the first draft of my stories. The one I finished yesterday came in at 3250 words, well over the upper limit for the market of 3000. Given that I wanted to weave in a few extra observations during the rewrite, I despaired of getting it down to the right length. After just one pass this morning, I came in at 2950 words, including the ones I wanted to add. For the most part, this reduction comes from a selective pruning of individual or small groups unnecessary words, although there were a few sentences that were lopped in toto. If I had a wish about my writing, it’s that I could learn to not include these words in the first place, but that doesn’t seem to be the way I work. Add and then take away. That’s how it goes. There are probably many words I could delete from this blog entry without changing the meaning. Maybe all of them.

I finished PD James’s book about detective novels and started a Robert B. Parker Jesse Stone novel called Split Image. This is the first Parker I’ve read on my Kindle and the brevity of the chapters is emphasized by the eBook’s table of contents, which is just a list of its many, many chapters with hotlinks so you can jump to one at a click. Many, many, chapters.

Last night was the first Criminal Intent in the post-Goran-and-Eames era. It wasn’t bad, as they go. Nichols is no Goran, but he’s fun to watch, especially when he’s all a-dither over a long time foe who has always managed to avoid prosecution while running an extensive criminal enterprise. I liked the Irish music over the opening scene, though it was a little loud. The singer was Alan Doyle of Newfoundland’s Great Big Sea.

I wonder if there is a television actor working today who hasn’t at some point been on an episode of one of the Law & Order franchises. When I was at the gym yesterday I saw “Eloise Hawking” from Lost. In fact, just about everyone from Lost has been on L&O. I was thinking of starting a list, but that would just be crazy.

Speaking of Lost and crazy, today’s image is my brief synopsis of last night’s episode, Everyone Loves Hugo.

Okay, who was thinking about Arzt when Ilana dropped her satchel? Don’t they ever learn? Boy, what a surprise that was–in a way. I wonder what the actress thought when she saw the script. 

ILANA:
God help us…
(Ilana is wiped off the face of the planet by an enormous explosion)

And her epitaph is delivered by Ben, who says without any hint of irony, “I guess the island was done with her.”

We now know what the buzzing voices were all about, even though for several seasons we were lead to believe they were harbingers of the Others. Michael makes his apology, and Hurley’s cool with that. “Don’t get yourself killed.” Not bad advice from someone who did. Of course, the message is drummed home by having Hurley find Dostoevsky’s Notes from the Underground in Ilana’s pack. Michael is sending notes from the underground. “Dead people are more reliable than alive people,” Hurley explains.

First Ilana, and then the Black Rock. Miles chides him for not warning his friends what he was planning to do. “I did say, ‘run,'” Hurley responds.

Hurley’s the man now. Hurley’s in charge. Even Jack is listening to Hurley, because Jacob is telling him the way things should be. Except when he isn’t, and then Hurley has to wing it. He’s grown more self assured, telling Richard he doesn’t have to prove anything to him. Then he draws the line in the sand “You can either come with me or you can keep blowing stuff up.” Only three people select Option B, and Jack confesses how hard it is for him to sit back and let other people tell him what to do. Jack has given up the mantle of leadership and I think he’s secretly relieved. He sure looks happier. I liked the way Kate smiled at him, too, when Hurley showed up, waving a torch he stole from Jeff Probst on Survivor, to confront the MiB. He’s almost as laid back as Island Desmond.

Aw, Libby and Hurley finally get to have the date Hurley was planning before Michael went off the reservation and shot her in the gut. The psych ward looked pretty much the same as before–even the same game of Connect Four. No sign of Dave, though, right? As much as this being Hurley’s story, it was also Desmond’s. In the sideways world, he’s acting like the secret matchmaker from a show like Fantasy Island, except Mr. Roark never ran anyone down. Whoa–who saw that coming? To be fair, it was a kind of karmic retribution. You throw me down the well in one world and I’ll mow you down like a dog in the street in another. I don’t think that either one of them is dead, and perhaps Sideways Locke will have, via a near death experience, some kind of epiphany that will have implications for the MiB. (To whom Hurley uttered the immortal lines, “Um, hey, I don’t know who you are, dude, but what do you want?”)

Any theories on who the kid in the jungle is? The one Fake-Locke told Desmond to ignore. He’s bigger than before, right? Older? Perhaps the vessel of Jacob developing and waiting to be refilled by whoever takes over his job?

By the end of the episode, we see yet another example of the nature of the sideways universe. Hurley thinks he has the thing that he wants (not to be cursed) but he doesn’t have what he really wants–the thing he lost on the island. Given freedom of choose, what will the individual characters ultimately choose for themselves. I believe that will be the take-home message from the show. Like Ben choosing to go with Ilana when he was presented with that option.

All it takes is a few minutes on the phone with someone from Eastern Canada to make me feel nostalgic for that part of the world. I had to call a company in Halifax today–the accent of the person on the other end of the line took me by surprise, for some reason. It was refreshing and familiar. I haven’t lived in Canada for over two decades, but I miss it. Someone I spoke to recently (an American) was surprised when I referred to Canada as a foreign country (compared to USA) but there’s no doubt in my mind that they are, in certain ways, very different.

I decided not to go to NECON this year. Sent my letter of regrets in to the organizers, cancelling my hold on a spot because the convention is sold out and there’s a waiting list so I wanted to free up the spot.

I bought a used iPod Touch on eBay last week. It’s basically an iPhone without the phone. Works on wireless when available. As much as I’d like an iPhone, and I’d probably get great use out of it, I can’t justify the expense of adding a data line. We already pay way too much for land line and cell phone service, it seems. I’d probably be tempted to use the iPhone a lot. With this gizmo, if I can’t get free wireless, it’s basically a glorified PDA. I’m okay with that, for now.

I finished the first draft of the short story in progress this morning. It came in about 200 words over the limit, so some pruning is required. After I finished and headed to the shower, I came up with a few things I want to weave in, if possible, so I’ll have to make room for them as well.

I had a strong suspicion about who the culprit was on Castle last night from the very beginning, but then I changed my mind and suspected the actress. Should have stuck with my guns.

Hugh Laurie directed last night’s episode, which should have been called “Truth or Dare” instead of “Lockdown.” The lockdown was just the excuse to force pairs of characters to come up with something to do to pass the time. The funniest pairing was Foreman and Taub, who did something of a Barney Miller by getting stoned together in the archives. Foreman’s “I can’t feel my feet” was a shout-out to Yamana’s “Anyone seen my legs,” I swear. Then they went all Fight Club and started biffing each other in the face. Remy and Wilson were pretty amusing, too. Wilson is such an easy mark–he really does need to take spine supplements, the way he lets people force him to do things. Taub got the benefit of their truth or dare at the last moment, though, when Remy paid off her dare. David Strathairn was powerful as the dying patient trapped with House.

I’m about 85% of the way through P.D. James’s book. A fast read. Some interesting trivia and details about specific British crime novelists, but not a lot of depth. We’re also working our way through Corduroy Mansions, which is basically a 44 Scotland Street novel with new characters in a new location.

I didn’t quite make it to the end of the short story in progress this weekend, but I’m almost there. About 500 words left to go, tops. Tomorrow, no doubt, unless I get bogged down revising what I’ve already written, which is always a possibility. I did get my Storytellers Unplugged essay finished, though. It’s about the agent panel I attended at the Houston Writers Guild conference on Saturday.

I wasn’t at all sorry to see the all-female team get U-Turned and ousted on The Amazing Race. They seemed surprised that Caite held a grudge over the way they mocked her from day one of the race, even as they continued to mock her some more. Kudos to the teams that managed to master that complicated drum set. I don’t think I could have done it.

Tom Piccirilli posted elsewhere that he was concerned Walt is becoming too unlikeable on Breaking Bad. He sure is in a downward spiral. Not fired, just on indefinite sabbatical. Barging into his wife’s lover’s workplace and trying to heave a potted plant that weighed as much as he did through a reinforced window…and failing at that, too. Even getting mad at Jesse for using his formula to cook a batch of meth. He wants to be out of the biz, but he doesn’t want anyone else to tarnish his image by producing inferior product. I sort of like the private detective or whatever he is–the guy who bugged Walt’s house. He’s something of a wild card. The show has the weirdest camera angles and shots of any program since Twin Peaks. I love the static wide shots that have action at the periphery.

It’s interesting how they’re bringing Sam Tyler back into Ashes to Ashes without actually having John Simm. Also fascinating how Alex is now jammed squarely between Gene Hunt (who did a very funny bit in a recreation of Billy Joel’s Uptown Girl video in a dream sequence) and the new DNC (discipline and complaints) officer, Jim Keats. Each one is whispering in her ear, planting seeds of distrust concerning the other. Where will her investigation of Sam Tyler lead, that seems to be the dramatic question for this series.

“This isn’t going to be big on dignity,” says the Doctor as he and Amy slide down a garbage chute. It’s confirmed that Amy Pond was about to be married before she jumped ship to be with the good Doctor. We know nothing about the bloke, only that Amy is having second thoughts. “I’ve been dead for centuries,” she realizes in The Beast Below. “You’re a cheery one,” the Doctor responds. Once again, the Doctor is dealing with the Queen of England, though this is no stodgy Queen Victoria. This is the ultramodern Liz 10. “I’m the bloody Queen, mate,” she proclaims. “Basically I rule.” What she rules is a world reminiscent of the one in Gridlock, with lots of levels and something nasty at the bottom.  Yay to the producers for traipsing Amy around in her nightie for a full episode, though it appears from the previews that she’s going to finally make it into the closet before next week. She asks the Doctor a telling question: Are you a parent? He manages to change the subject without replying. I wonder if we’ll get to see the Doctor’s daughter again. Hope so. Yes, the Doctor does what he always does (“stay out of trouble…badly”) but fresh eyes see a solution to the problem that eluded even him. His solution was the best of a bad situation, but for some reason the Doctor seemed blinkered to the situation. In case we missed the point, Amy pounded the parallel between the sea whale and the Doctor home a couple of times, which was a bit of overkill, I thought, but it was a fun episode. Amy is going to be one to watch, though I hope she doesn’t turn out to be a Wesley Crusher, coming to the rescue all the time.

Speaking of Will Wheaton, he’s back on The Big Bang Theory tonight. And Hugh Laurie directs tonight’s episode of House.

I spent yesterday at the Houston Writers Guild conference. After an hour-long Q&A panel with the three agents in attendance (one from Seattle, one from D.C. and one from NYC), the group broke into two tracks. I spent the day in Tom Vaughan’s session on Screenwriting and Storytelling. No, I’m not planning to switch to writing screenplays, but he had a lot of good advice about how good stories are told. About how to pose the Dramatic Question and how and when to answer it. About the importance of introducing something at the midpoint to change the tone and urgency of the story for the duration. Some of it can be applied to all storytelling, of course. Gave me ideas about how to go back to the novel I keep trying to rework and shape it better.

Last night we went to see Date Night. I can’t remember laughing so hard at a movie in a long time. I almost feel like I need to see it again because we laughed over every second line in places. The scene where the borrowed car has locked bumpers with the taxi is hilarious–the taxi driver, played by J.B. Smoove reminded me a lot of the Chris Tucker character in The Fifth Element. It was just one funny set piece after another, although it had an emotional layer that resonated–the couple on autopilot who are worried that they may be becoming, like another couple they know, just good roommates.

On Friday night, we watched up in the air, which we also liked. A sadder story, because the character answers his dramatic question (what does he really want vs. what does he think he wants?) only to discover that the person who incited this change in him isn’t available. Anna Kendrick was very good as the young, aptly named, Keener, who understands the theory of her job but has no idea of the emotional impact of what she’s doing. Vera Farmiga is interesting–she’s not beautiful, but fascinating to look at. I’m not entirely sure why the movie was nominated for an Academy Award–I didn’t think it was that good, but it was thought provoking, at least, which is better than most movies.

Flashforward this week: not bad. The double mole revelation was a bit of a surprise, although they projected it a bit in the previews by having the Dominic Monaghan character say to someone off-screen “They’d never suspect it was you.” When that scene didn’t happen with the original mole, it only made sense that there was another.

Fringe was also decent but unexceptional this week. I liked the exchange between Walter and Peter. Walter: “Could you get a sample of this puss, please, Peter?” Peter: “I always get the good jobs.”

I’m about 1/3 of the way into PD James’s book. Just about to begin the chapter on Agatha Christie, Ngaio Marsh and two other women authors of that era.

After the cold front came through the night before last, the temperature dipped into the upper forties overnight. It was cool enough that I could see my breath when I went out to get the newspaper this morning.

I managed eight laps in the pool today, which is a record. I’m not sure what I’m working up to, but I’m a big number freak. I count things or rates of things. When I used to ride my bicycle regularly, I fixated on my average speed each day, and the number of miles I racked up each week. With swimming so far it’s all about how much I can endure before I feel like I’m about to die, or my arms are about to fall off.

I haven’t made it to the end of the short story in progress yet, but I’m getting there a bit at a time. Up to a total of 1600 words this morning (max: 3000). The story just turned the corner, both literally and figuratively. I know how it’s going to end, so that helps. I just have one major scene left to write and then it will be revision time. Maybe I’ll get it done on Sunday, since tomorrow is taken up with the Houston Writers Guild conference.

The new zombie anthology Dead Set featuring my story “Zombies on a Plane” can now be ordered from Amazon. The book is a benefit for the Make-a-Wish Foundation. Here is the product blurb:

Editors Michelle McCrary and Joe McKinney have brought together twenty original tales of the end of our world from horror’s brightest talents. Within these pages you’ll find a madman longing for the good old days of Hometown America, a company that deals in the dead, a radio DJ who holds the living together with her voice, and a soldier haunted by the living and the dead alike. This is the end of the world as you’ve never seen it before. Featuring stories from Lisa Mannetti, Lee Thomas, Bev Vincent, Harry Shannon, David Dunwoody, Nate Southard, Boyd E. Harris, and a host of others, Dead Set will take you on a guided tour through the ruins. The zombie story has finally come of age.

I received my contributor copy yesterday and look forward to tearing through it in due course. I have three anthologies on the coffee table that I’ve received in the past two or three weeks that contain my work. I think that’s a personal record.

I wrote the first draft of my review of Snow Hill last night while watching CBS shows. Then I picked up PD James’s Talking about Detective Fiction on my Kindle. The book is one of my competitors for an Edgar Award. Not a long book, just over 200 pages, so I got through about 1/6 of it in one sitting. It’s essentially a history of the evolution of detective novels (especially British detective novels), from Wilkie Collins’ The Moonstone through the present.

Survivor has been one surprise after another this season. The biggest surprise has been how dysfunctional the villains have been, although I guess in retrospect they’re just showing their spots, scheming against each other instead of colluding to be strong to make it to the merge. It was funny to see them completely dismantle their camp for no good reason. I thought Sandra’s plan last night was brilliant and as soon as she laid it out I knew it stood a good chance of succeeding. Russell is the ultimate paranoid, so any hint that someone is scheming against him will trigger his eviction reflex. Even though she’s not a strong player, I sort of like Courtney. She’s a scrawny little thing, but she speaks up from time to time and it’s always entertaining when she does. Coach has to be one of the most deluded players ever, though Russell gives him a run for the money.

CSI was a little bit weird this week. Langston’s outburst seemed uncharacteristic. And this Dr. Jekyll villain–bizarre. Stranger than the miniature killer, that’s for sure. His crimes are so convoluted and intricate. Stealing a radiator cap and planting radiating material in a victim: how obscure is that? Next week looks like it will be one of those whimsical episodes that are always fun.

I don’t know what to make of this new boss on The Mentalist. She’s hard to like, but Jane manages to catch her off guard from time to time (when he commented on her shoes, for example), and she ranges between hard ass and being supportive.

Thinking about going to see Date Night this weekend if we can work it into our schedules. Looks funny. I remember seeing the trailer in the movie theater when we saw It’s Complicated.

The weather last fall and earlier this spring was ideal for the wildflowers. Cool winter, lots of rain, so they are in full bloom. It’s always nice to see. We had a suprise hail storm last night, though. They predicted rain and a cold front, and then waffled about whether we would actually see any rain. Then there was an alert on TV last night at 8:30 warning about a severe thunderstorm for our county. (I was amused to see that the alert started in the last few seconds of a scene of TV show and was cut off by a commercial so we had to wait several minutes, until the show returned from break, to find out what they wanted to warn us about.) Then the rain started, a good gully washer, and at about 8:40 I heard things pelting off the roof and windows. The hail was about the size of a playing marble and it bounced about 2′ in the air when it landed on our back deck. More than any other kind of precipitation, hail seems to be thrown from the sky rather than simply falling.

We’ve had at least three good reviews of When the Night Comes Down so far. First there was the one at Monster Librarian. Today we were written up by Famous Monsters of Filmland and Dark Discoveries. FMoF liked my story “Purgatory Noir” and the DD previewer dug “Something in Store.” The reviewer writes, “it is everything I like in a short story wrapped into one: easy to read, whimsical, fantastical, dark, erotic, and just the perfect amount of vague. Vincent definitely knows how to keep you on edge, excited, eager, and wanting more.”

I’m not a big fan of the back door pilot. This happens when a series tests out a spinoff by co-opting its regular cast and shoe-horns in the new cast/setup. They did this with two episodes of NCIS, sending some of the cast to L.A. to work with the team out there. Last night they sent the Criminal Minds crew to San Francisco to work with the cast of a proposed spinoff. These episodes have to much to do. They have to tell a story and introduce a bunch of new characters. I understand the philosophy of trying to recruit your most loyal audience members, but these episodes feel contrived. Even the regular characters seem disjointed.

Law & Order: SVU was actually pretty interesting last night. A change of pace in that Elliot and Olivia were sidelined from the case (after telling a mother her son had been murdered only to discover during their meeting that it wasn’t true) so Tutuola  and Munch got to dominate the episode. Neither one is a stellar actor, but it’s fun watching them banter. After Munch emerged from dumpster diving through a restaurant’s trash for evidence, Tutuola tells him, “Okay, your catching the bus home.” Ally Walker was the guest villainess, and she gave a strong performance as a therapist who crosses all sorts of lines. There were no public service announcement messages in the script, which is always a plus.

I finished Snow Hill by Mark Sanderson last night. It’s not as good a book as I hoped it would be, but it had its moments. The characters and dialog were a bit awkward at times. I liked the period descriptions better than the plot itself.