Bev Vincent

I put down a few hundred more words on the story in progress this morning, but I spent most of my time doing research so I could add a little bit of verisimilitude to the description of the setting. I could conceivably finish the first draft tomorrow morning if all goes well.

I was invited to attend the Houston Writers Guild conference this weekend. In return, they want me to conduct a mini-symposium for them in July. First time I’ve ever been paid to be a speaker somewhere. Not sure exactly what I’m going to talk about for 2.5 hours, but I’ll pick their brains on that subject this weekend.

NCIS is the only show I know that can turn multiple stabbing murders into a light, sexy comedy. One thing they’ve done a lot this weekend is play with the concept of friendship/partnership. Tim and Tony are friends who banter, are jealous of each other, etc. Last night’s bro-mance–I don’t know any other show that could have pulled that off the way they did. And then there was Gibbs’s relationship with Holly the (former?) madam. Sizzling!

I knew it was coming, but it was sad all the same. I’m talking about the second episode of Law & Order: Criminal Intent. I think Goran is one of the all-time great TV characters and I hate to see him go that way. At least he fared a little better than Captain Ross. Not quite sure why Eames wasn’t allowed to stay on as Captain. That would have been a good development.

Episode 4 of Justified was good. One thing I like about the show is the eclectic group of characters who talk just like they leapt from the pages of an Elmore Leonard book. The two mooks in the car (“Did he mention me?” the local guy asks after the guy from Florida talks to their boss.) The old guy who swapped cars with the accountant-cum-dentist. (“Found it in your sister’s ass.”) The dentist himself. “Looks like there’s a sniper on the Mexican side,” Raylan says. “That’s not going to help tourism,” he replies. His “repo man” / “marathon man” scene at the beginning. The dialog between Raylan and the guy he just shot. “Let’s call it a draw.” All these things set the show apart from the other one about U.S. Marshalls currently running (In Plain Sight) which tries too hard to be funny (and fails). One cliche that I wonder about, though, is the less-than-Mensa-material character who admits that she knows she’s not very smart. Do people ever really do that?

And now, Lost. Boy, is there ever a lot to process concerning last night’s episode. It’s about time, Eloise Hawking Widmore tells Desmond, and of course, it is all about that. She is the joker in the deck. Ever since her first appearance, refusing to sell Desmond an engagement ring, she seems to know everything about how all the timelines are supposed to work. Is she the one who has set these somewhat arbitrary rules, or does she just try to keep everyone else in line? I’m not sure we’ll ever get the answer to that question. “What happened, happened,” she says once again.

In the sideways timeline we have the intact Widmore clan. Charles and his wife, their son Daniel (no longer a Farraday, no longer a physicist) and Penny Milton, who is Charles’s daughter, but not Eloise’s, apparently. The sideways universe is apparently truly parallel to the island timeline. There were some who theorized that the sideways reality would be the show’s coda, how people ended up once everything was put aright. Not so–they’re starting to bleed together. There were hints of that from the get-go. The way Jack looked at Kate, as if he thought he might know her. The prevalence of something akin to deja vu. Near-death experiences apparently elevate the awareness of the other, true reality. I wonder if Sun’s concussion on the island caused her to connect more strongly with her sideways persona, who seems not to be able to speak English. Her aphasia might have been a cross-over effect. There were all sorts of nods to things from the original timeline — the glass of scotch between Widmore and Desmond. The painting of scales balancing white and black rocks in Widmore’s office. Penny running the stadium instead of Jack. The clanking MRI that sounded much like the doomsday clock in the hatch.

The sideways universe appears to be the place where people get the one thing they wanted more than anything else. Desmond craved Widmore’s approval or acceptance. However, I think the moral of the story will be that they aren’t really living happily ever after in the sideways timeline. The one thing each character thinks he or she wants isn’t the thing that he or she truly needs. I suspect it will all boil down to the loving relationships many of the characters developed after getting to the island. Sun and Jin rekindled their marriage. Desmond and Penny finally got together. Jack and Kate. Sawyer and Juliette. Hurley and Libby. Daniel and Charlotte. Charlie and Claire. Charlie, who was so angry with Jack for bringing him back to life, seems to have a death wish. Does he think/know that he can’t die (hence the way he walked across the busy street) or does he want to die?

It was fun seeing Fischer Stevens back as George Minkowski. Desmond: Is there any alcohol in this car? George: Oh yeah.

Didn’t Desmond seem unusually cavalier about being “rescued” by Sayid? Is this part of Widmore’s game plan? And damn those writers for turning yet another villain around into someone we’re now rooting for: Widmore.

And did I see Michael in the previews for next week? Will he still be bellowing Waaaaaaaaalllllttttttt?

If I write a blog entry about a blog entry that references my blog entry, will I tie the internet in knots?

I’m getting back into my routine after the trip to WHC and the long weekend. Hit the pool and managed six laps after a two week hiatus, which isn’t bad, since my all-time record is seven. I also started a new short story this morning and got nearly 1000 words written. I’ve had this on my to-do list for a while, and I had the set up running through my mind for a while, except only in that vague, undefined way in which I think “I want to write a story that features X.” Then I came up with the opening lines, which is the middle of an argument, always a good launching point for a story. And then just yesterday I understood who the characters were and what they were on their way to do when they encounter X. Except I made a last-minute modification this morning when I actually got to the keyboard. Instead of bickering spouses I realized they were bickering siblings. I’m about 1/3 of the way through the story and I think I know where it’s going.

Last night’s Castle was worth watching if only for the opportunity to see Beckett say “ruh roh” a la Scooby Doo. It was very much a Scooby Doo episode–even the characters realized that, with a hint of The Mummy and Indiana Jones tossed in for good measure, and a blood splatter test that looked like something out of Dexter. Castle is a great character–half the time he’s so over the top as to be a cartoon, and half the time he’s a real human being. It’s a fun mix.

Breaking Bad is running strong again in its third season. Walt’s gambit with Skyler was fascinating. I’m pretty sure he knew that she wouldn’t turn him in because of Walt, Jr. At last he pled his case with her instead of quibbling about what he did. Flawed logic and all, it was the most honest he’s been with himself or anyone in a long time. Of course, Skyler’s payback was something he didn’t expect, and the way she dropped the f-bomb on his was devastating. Well played. Not quite sure what’s going on with Hank, though. It seemed like he had a death wish, taking on those two guys in the bar without his gun–deliberately without his gun. Is he that scared about going back to El Paso? Loved the pizza on the roof gag from last week that continued into this week. And those two hombres with the skulls on the toes of their boots–seriously bad dudes. We didn’t even get to see what they did with the little old lady whose van they coveted, but one can only imagine it didn’t end well for her.

An interesting episode of Fringe last week. Almost a parallel to the Richard Alpert episode of Lost (which one pundit wittily dubbed “Richard, Prior”). All backstory this week. No case to solve–only an old sin to confess. The story of how Peter came to be Anti-Peter.

I missed the news that Robert Culp passed away while I was in Brighton. I always liked him, especially in the four episodes of Columbo where he was the killer of the week, but also in I, Spy and The Greatest American Hero.

I’m about 85% of the way through Snow Hill by Mark Sanderson. Set in 1930s London, it’s a surprisingly claustrophobic and unflinchingly brutal novel about a reporter who catches wind that a police officer has died, but no one will confirm this rumor, which is supposedly inspired by real events. If I didn’t know a priori that the author was gay, I might have been disturbed by some of the attitudes towards homosexuality expressed by characters in the book (including the protagonist). Undoubtedly typical of the time period but a little hard to read all the same.

I gave up on Ashes to Ashes, the UK sequel to Life on Mars, once, but I was encouraged to give it a second try and did so. After all, you can never have too much Gene Hunt. The third series just started overseas and it got off to a rousing start. I really like what they’re doing with the D&C guy (The Complaints, the UK equivalent of Internal Affairs). He is presented as a very likable and supportive guy and, as quick as the blink of an eye, he shows his true colors when talking with Gene. Nicely done. And only Gene Hunt could pull of a line like, “I will paint your balls the color of hazel nuts and inform a bag of squirrels that winter’s coming.”

Several years ago at NECON, Hank Wagner asked me if I’d be interested in writing an essay for the International Thriller Writer’s fund-raiser book, Thrillers: 100 Must Reads.  He wanted me to write about King, but I asked for the chance to tackle a different subject. We settled on Red Dragon, by Thomas Harris. The book is due out soon–you can read more about it at the official web site. I saw a galley of it at World Horror–it was presented to me for my autograph.

OK, I’m with Flashforward for at least another week. The little girl’s vision wasn’t so impressive, but this week’s  episode was decent.

I’ve been having a mostly relaxing weekend. I finished the short story I was revamping for Thrillers 3 and sent it off to the editor with a wish and a prayer. It’s not a paying market, but the first book was a NY Times bestseller, so it would be a nice one to crack. They only accept a handful of member submissions, though, so the odds are against.

Spring is almost over, it seems–very warm weekend, in the eighties. The Easter lilies haven’t quite managed to flower yet, but they’re getting close. I dug up the remains of the hibiscus plants that didn’t survive the multiple winter freezes and planted some hardier bushes in their place. It’ll probably be a few years before they become more substantial, but who’s in a rush?

The new Doctor Who launched this weekend…and what a rousing debut it was. The new guy is fascinating to watch. He’s gangly and awkward, and his eyes look like they’re sunk halfway into his skull. Watching him figure out what foods he liked was a fun and funny way to introduce the character better, and the little Amy was precious and precocious.

I also appreciated the way they faked us out a bit by releasing early publicity shots of the new companion, leading us to believe she’s a cop instead of a kiss-o-gram. I think I’m going to like her a lot. Not only is she easy on the eyes, she has a terrific accent and a perky attitude that’s going to go a long way. I liked her comeback about why she chose to dress like a cop when confronted with an intruder (It was either this or a French maid).

A favorite line: “I’m the Doctor. I’m worse than everyone’s aunt.”

A favorite exchange: Amy: “I grew up.” The Doctor: “Don’t worry–I’ll soon fix that.”

It looks like “silence will fall” will be the mantra for this series. Ominous. Cracks in the universe.

The trailer for the upcoming season looks fantastic, including some of the traditional villains, as well as a revisit from the Blink statues and a group of beautiful vampires in negligees. I’m especially psyched to see among the upcoming guest stars Toby Jones (who I got to interview on the set of The Mist) and one of my favorite British actors, Bill Nighy.

There’s always a lot of trepidation when a new Doctor comes online, but this was a fine transition. The Tardis gets a reboot, as does the theme music and the logo. But at the heart, it’s the Doctor saving the earth one more time.

Neil Gaiman wrote an episode that was supposed to be for this season but it got scheduled late and then went beyond budget, so it won’t air until early in the new Doctor’s second series.

A number of years ago, a character named Bev Vincent who was a crystal scientist from Houston, showed up as a murder victim in the Michael Slade novel Bed of Nails. I met Slade at the World Horror Convention in Seattle in 2001 and we became friends in the ensuing years. As a tribute, he killed me off in a gruesome fashion in the book. I had a good laugh at the release form for Penguin that stated I was pleased with my depiction in the novel: my decapitated head was found impaled on a fence outside Ted Bundy’s house, and my body was crucified upside down in a satanic graveyard. Pleased? I was tickled pink!

I am about to be Tuckerized again, this time in Stephen King’s new novelette, Blockade Billy, coming soon from CD Publications. A character whose name is almost exactly the same as mine (one letter is changed) makes a brief appearance on the page, in much the same way as my current GP appears in It. Pretty cool.

Law & Order: Criminal Intent returned with a bang. It looks like they are planning to clean house, with the murder of one long-time character and the impending implosion of another. I haven’t been reading up to see what their long-term plans are, but I suspect that Goran and Eames’s days are numbered. It’s just a matter of how they get written out. If you know, don’t tell me! Good to see Angel from Dexter show up and watch the characters jockey for position around him until they figure out who he is.

Speaking of cleaning house, I’m paring back on my TV series. I skipped V last night and I think it’s done for me. I’m especially annoyed at the V-bug that obscured a lot of valuable screen real estate during Lost. And unless next week’s Flashforward is awesome, it’s on the short list, too. Last week’s episode was half good and half boring. I’m waiting to hear the little girl’s story of what she saw in her vision. If it’s lame, I’m out of there. I simply don’t care about many of the characters. Can’t even remember their names.

Nice Walt meltdown on Breaking Bad. Of all the things to almost get done in for — a broken windshield. I’m very curious to find out what happened to the two killers in Walt’s bedroom. It looks like some sort of battle royale is in the offing, though.

Now, on to Lost — .

Favorite line of the episode. Ben says, “Why don’t you believe me?” and Ilana retorts, “Because you’re speaking.” Ooh, burn! Also, Sawyer’s sarcastic comeback to Flocke’s claim that he can’t just turn to smoke and fly to Hydra island: “No, because THAT would be ridiculous.” Ben’s redemption continues as is the first to appear at Sun’s side after she head-banged the banyan tree, apparent concern on his face. So both Jin and Sun end up with accidental head injuries — and we now know that Jin didn’t get his from deliberate violence, as it appeared at first. Nice deke.

How things are different in the sideways world: Jin is a bodyguard rather than a flunkie, and he got the job through some other means than marrying the boss’s daughter. Sun apparently can’t speak English, though Jin can spit out the odd word under duress. The big kicker, though, was that he was delivering his own contract money to his putative killer. Paik is evil — it makes the murder take place out of the country and puts the money in Jin’s hands. Sun is the character who sees her reflection in a mirror this week. Jin has the chance to see his reflection in the polished metal cabinet doors, but I don’t think he noticed.

Mikhail is back, and he has both eyes — at least until Jin puts a bullet in one. Alas, another bullet goes astray and Sun’s child is once again in jeopardy. It was a nice touch to have Widmore show Jin photos of his child, too, but Widmore is a master manipulator. In both realities, Jin ends up in a cramped little room without any idea of what’s going on. Is he really wanted just for his map-making skills? Apparently his maps can’t be all that good if they need him to spell things out.

Mysterious line of the night: If Flocke gets off the island, everyone associated with the island will cease to exist. Not die, but stop existing. Does this mean a new timeline would be generated? Intriguing to the max.

Sayid can’t feel anything emotional — he’s like the zombie the show’s creators were always joking about. The zombie season. And, despite the fact that we have Flocke, I miss Locke. They clearly aren’t the same. However, I was surprised that Flocke was surprised by something — the raid on the camp. He didn’t see that coming at all, and he was not pleased.

The end is coming quickly now. The battle lines are being drawn. It’s hard to believe that after six years, it’s almost over. The final episode, the final The End, is on the horizon.

I got up at 5 a.m. UK time yesterday and caught the 6 a.m. bus from Brighton to Heathrow. Foggy, rainy morning, but it was cool to see all the sheep and lambs along the side of the road en route. Got to Heathrow before 9:00, waited through a long line to check in but had no issues. Had a nice British breakfast, bought a copy of The Daily Sun, paid £2 for 20 minutes of internet service and boarded at 11:00 a.m. Routine ten-hour flight with plenteous and decent food. No complaints.

Watched The Invention of Lying (Gervais is great, and the story went in a direction I didn’t expect from the trailers) and Everybody’s Fine (not bad but fairly routine and predictable), along with the classic Steve McQueen movie Bullitt. I know this is supposed to be an influential and groundbreaking film, but I don’t think it has aged well. It looks like a made-for-TV crime of the week show and boy does it ever drag. The entire movie could be easily condensed into a one-hour TV episode. The car chase was okay but overlong, and the foot chase through the airport was tedious. Best thing about the movie: Jacqueline Bisset, who I could watch all day, but she was underutilized.

When I got home, I found my Black Quill award certificate among the mail that arrived while I was in Brighton. Something else for the vanity wall! It’s a handsome document in a very smart cardboard folder.

To stave off jetlag, I forced myself to stay up. Caught up on Survivor (I can’t believe Russell gave away his immunity idol — that was a ballsy move) and Amazing Race (how hard can it be to fill a cart with coconuts and not drop any?). Castle did a good job of wrapping up a twisty, interesting case without falling into the predictable trap of having Beckett and Castle fall into each other’s arms after he saves her life — twice. They also managed to not go all serious during those precarious situations. The show isn’t meant to simulate how real people would act under such circumstances — it’s meant to follow the rules of who Castle is, and they stuck to their guns, so to speak.

I’m still catching up on correspondence — that may take a while — and organizing my expenses from the trip, but this is a short work week so I hope to be back at my routine schedule by the weekend.

The Innsmouth Free Press has a very nice review of Evolve.

Yesterday was a busy day at World Horror. We had our Evolve book launch at 2 p.m. and it was very well attended. I don’t know how many copies we sold, but it seemed like we were busy signing copies the whole time we were there. Neil Gaiman showed up in the afternoon as an unannounced, surprise guest. He interviewed James Herbert, signed and was interviewed himself by Kim Newman. He also attended the Stoker banquet and presented one of the awards. I stood in a long line to get something signed by James Herbert, who was a real trooper, signing for upwards of two hours. Apropos of nothing, I think he’d make a great Doctor Who.

I moderated a panel at 5 p.m. Ramsey Campbell suggested at 5:01 p.m. that the two panels running in parallel switch rooms, so there was a bit of congested confusion for the next several minutes, but then things settled down and we had a good discussion of the extreme horror vs. quiet horror.

The Stoker banquet followed at a fish & chips place on the Brighton pier. The room was a little congested, but it great to see so many people there–and so many big names: James Herbert, Gaiman, Ramsey Campbell, Chelsea Quinn Yarbro, Tanith Lee, etc. A large contingent of nominees sat at one long banquet table — Joe McKinney, Scott Browne, Weston Ochs, Rocky Wood, Michael Knost, Norman Prentiss and myself. Michael and Norman were winners, so we got two of the haunted houses at our table. I’d been telling Mike Knost all weekend that I thought he’d win and I was right. If only I’d placed that huge bet!

I went to the post-Stoker party for a while, but turned in around midnight, which became 1 a.m. because of the time change. Today is a wind-down day of sorts, with the closing ceremony at 4 p.m. If the weather is nice, I might take the Brighton ghost walk at 7 p.m. Have to get up to catch a 6 a.m. bus to Heathrow tomorrow and then this entire whirlwind will be over for another year. It’s been a blast, and I’ve really enjoyed catching up with old friends and making new ones.

Two quick observations from the streets of Brighton. Yesterday morning, as I was walking back to the hotel from the Internet Cafe, I passed the Town Crier in full regalia. Cheerful guy! This morning, on my way here, I was passed by a guy riding a penny farthing bicycle. Interesting place.

Yesterday was a very full day, and it ended much later than I’m used to. Panels and readings and book launches all day long, and the mass autographing session. I have my copy of CD’s Dark Dreamers that I’ve been using as an autograph book since WHC 2001. There are six attendees who are in the book that I’ve never met before and I managed to get four of them last night: Brian Lumley, Ramsey Campbell, Tanith Lee and Kim Newman. Today I’m hoping to get James Herbert and Bob Eggleston.

After the signing, a bunch of us went out to supper at the fish & chips place across the street. Then at 10 p.m. we had the Dark Arts book launch for When the Night Comes Down, which went off very well. A bit quiet at first because of competing events, but it became the place to be once Bill Breedlove took over the DJ duties. He had a pair of iPods and access to the sound board/PA system. Around 11:30 he became DJ Bill and cranked up the 80s tunes. The party got larger and larger as other events wound down and he had them dancing until 2:30 a.m. The local organizers were astonished. This just doesn’t happen at British conventions, he was told.

Today will be busy.  I have the Evolve book launch, then a panel I’m moderating, then the Stoker banquet on the pier. There’s this big catapult looking contraption at the end among the arcade rides. We’ve been joking that the losers will be launched into the English channel like a cow over the ramparts in Monty Python and the Holy Grail. (Fetchez la vache!) Tonight we lose an hour as the UK goes on daylight savings time. Great. One less hour. I’m already running on a deficit!

This is a great convention — a real international mix, with a healthy US and Canada contingent but also attendees from Greece, France, Sweden, Finland and elsewhere. I’ve met a ton of people, some of whom I knew only through the internet. The schedule is packed with things to do and there’s also ample time to visit with people. The hotel is atmospheric, with long windy passages that seem to lead off into the dungeons, and it’s situated in a place where you can easily walk around the town and get some of the local flair. I’m very glad I came.

I’m on a £1 an hour Internet cafe computer in Brighton at the moment, recovering from day 1. Got into Heathrow yesterday morning, took the bus to Brighton and made it through the rest of the day without succumbing to jetlag. The hotel is right across from the pier. Old and packed but atmospheric, like something out of an Agatha Christie novel.

The con is sold out, 600 attendees and they could have had more. Half the people have never been to a con before, according to the organizers. We had a round-robin reading for the Evolve anthology yesterday afternoon that was very well attended. I read from my Kindle for the first time in public, which worked out well. It allowed me to be more heads up with the audience, which I was told came across well. Can’t wait to read the other contributions to this new anthology.

Had supper with Weston Ochs, Yvonne Navarro and Rocky Wood at a pub. Bangers and mash. I was famished by then. Jetlag started to kick in during the early evening, but a tag-team reading by Scott Browne and Bill Breedlove woke me up again and I managed to hang in until 11 p.m. Got a good night’s sleep and am ready to tackle the new day, though I expect this post will be littered with typos and malapropisms. Not at my alertest. Tonight is the Dark Arts launch of When the Night Comes Down from 10 to midnight, so I might need to have a nap before then. Not used to late nights and all that beer!

Timer on the PC is running down so I’m off for now for a brisk stroll through the streets of Brighton and then back to the Royal Albion for panels and chatter.

My flight to Heathrow departs at 5 p.m. today and gets in at 7 a.m. tomorrow. I’m planning to take full advantage of the 777’s excellent in-flight entertainment system, but I’m also taking my Kindle to pass the time, too. Catch enough sleep to be alert for the rest of tomorrow, too, if possible. I want to know where the darned teleporter is–boy, I’d love to just step on the pad and end up across the Atlantic a second or two later.

My biggest problem with the convention is likely to be trying to connect real people with the online correspondence I’ve had with them over the past few years. I’m generally bad with names (but name tags should help there) but if the name tag says Bill Johnson and I only know the person as WickedKarnival666 then my brain doesn’t connect the two easily.

I’m not taking a computer with me, but I have mapped out the internet cafés closest to the Royal Albion so I might get online once or twice during the weekend, schedule permitting. I think a few people (Scott Edelman, Lisa Morton) are planning to tweet the Stokers on Saturday evening (Saturday afternoon stateside).

At least I’m not going to miss any episodes of Lost while I’m away. Last night’s was pretty awesome, don’t you think?

This must be the week for gratuitous Tenerife mentions. Richard Alpert’s story begins there during the year that Canada became a country, and Walt on Breaking Bad rambled about the worst ever plane accident involving two 747s on that Canary Island. The early part of the episode reminded me of something Alexandre Dumas might have written–a poor, basically honest, hapless man becoming imprisoned after events spiral out of control–and all for not, as it turns out, because he gets back to his wife too late to do her any good. And then the priest tells him he can’t absolve him of his sins because he won’t live long enough to do the penance. Cruel world.

So, Magnus Hanso, great-grandfather of Alvar Hanso, saves his life and gives him time to do penance. Plenty of time, as it turns out–a century and a half, so far. And who is Hanso’s right-hand man? A guy named Whitfield, which I thought sounded an awful lot like Widmore the first time it was pronounced.

The episode was like an entire novel packed into 50 minutes of drama. They introduced a new character and made you care for her enough that the scene with Alpert, his ghost-wife and Hurley at the end was dramatic instead of melodramatic. Who thinks Hurley could be the new Jacob? At first I thought there would be some dramatic justice in having Ben finally get the job he’s been stumping for all his life, but Ben is now reduced to making pithy asides (“This should be interesting,” he says when Sun is getting ready to tell Jack about Locke.)

I wonder how much the Man in Black is influenced by the body he inhabits. As Locke, he seems to be fairly direct. He’s not above manipulating people, but I can’t remember Flocke ever telling a direct lie. Man in Black, though, clearly lied to Alpert–or at least we believe that he lied if we credit Jacob’s story. Jacob reminds me an awful lot of the Turtle from It–the force representing good who doesn’t wish to get involved. I liked his reaction when Alpert pointed out the potential pitfalls of such a strategy.

Nice resonance between MiB and Locke uttering the same line to Alpert: Good to see you out of those chains.

So now we know: 1) how the statue was broken 2) how the Black Rock ended up so far inland 3) where Alpert came from 4) why he doesn’t age and 5) what the island is. I saved the best for last. I wonder how Jacob does his job–how he keeps MiB on the island. Is his mere presence enough to accomplish this feat? Does it have anything to do with the island’s strange electromagnetic force? Is he the first “person” to do the job? And where do they originate from–how was MiB bottled up in the first place, and who was his crazy mother?

Jacob’s pastime seems a little cruel, though. Very Job-like. Testing people, playing with them, to prove a theory. He may be the good guy by comparison to MiB, but maybe he’s gotten bored over the years. Who would have predicted this arc to the story five years ago? Clever stuff.

Good episode of Castle this week. Dana Delaney running the show and making Beckett seven shades of jealous. One nice thing about the show is that everyone is a competent detective. Lots of great chemistry, though I still have a hard time distinguishing Beckett’s two assistants from Tweedledum and Tweedledee.

The opening few minutes of the new season of Breaking Bad were seriously weird, though, with all those people crawling around on hands and knees while everyone else essentially ignored them. The show has got to be the master of weird camera angles, offbeat compositions and overall strangeness. I don’t know what the episode’s title what, but I’d call it “Denial isn’t a river in Egypt.” Sometimes I’d love to be able to reach through the screen and give a character a good shake. Instead of parsing semantics and splitting hairs about whether or not he was a drug dealer, technically, Walt could have said, “It was the only way I could see to pay my medical bills without making us all homeless.” At least that would have been an honest opening to a dialog about whether or not he and his wife should be divorced. Re-iterated when he was talking to the guy at the fast food restaurant: I’m not a bad guy. At least his partner in crime had the moxie to admit that he was a bad guy. Speaking of bad guys, those are two seriously bad dudes heading into Texas. They didn’t even flinch when that truck blew up around them. Cold as ice.

I managed to up the ante in my swimming regimen today. The first week I did 3 laps on Tuesday and 5 laps on Thursday. Same thing last week. I was thinking it might be a pattern, but I managed 7 laps today. Remember the episode of The Big Bang Theory where Sheldon learned how to swim by watching a video on the Internet? Well, I did a little bit of internet training myself and discovered some flaws in my style. Correcting them helped greatly, I think. But at least I did my practice in the water, unlike Sheldon.

The more I work on this story that I thought needed only a little tinkering, the more I’m changing it and, I hope, improving it. I’ve knocked about 400 words off it so far, from 5200 down to 4800, but there is one section that seems needlessly complicated, so I’m going to take a crack at simplifying that tomorrow morning and then allow the story to rest while I’m off at World Horror. I’m really looking forward to the convention. I’m making my checklist of things to pack, trying to go as light as possible but taking everything I need for a good four-day trip, too.