So the weather drama is over, to be replaced with the usual mess … which is to say, it’s dark and cold and wet, but at least we can get our car out of the garage again.
Not that I’ve been going very far, very much. Not lately. I’m still eyeballs deep in Inexplicables revisions, and that means I’m mostly staying inside – even when going outside is an appealing option.
But today the husband and I got out long enough to grab lunch, get (him) a haircut, and make a Target run for household essentials. Mundane, yes. But I did get out of the house.
When I’m not frantically wrestling with this hideously broken draft,* I catch up on TV. Because I have nothing better to blog about – and because a positively weird number of people seem interested in this, I suppose I’ll natter on about it for a few minutes.
Most of my televised interests are none too high-brow; I ain’t gonna lie to you. Tonight, for example, I will sit around with a glass of wine (for I am out of rum) and watch America’s Funniest Videos. Sometimes you just have to shut off your brain and let it reboot.
Then I’ll stick around for Once Upon A Time which is, to be perfectly frank, also not very good – but it hops up and down on my deep-seated love of the froofy and gothic. It’s a little soapy, and a lot ridiculous … but I sure do love the wicked queen’s fashion sense.
And I love Rumpelstiltskin too, but only when he’s in slick, modern, evil “Mr. Gold” guise. (I like my evil in a suit, I do.) Actually, you know what? That’s not fair. I’ll file him as Chaotic Neutral for now. The question of Mr. Gold’s motives – and how much he knows about what’s going on – is mostly what keeps me tuned in.
However, I am increasingly less tuned in to the other big fairy tale launch this season – Grimm. The core problem is that all the secondary characters are a lot more interesting than the eponymous protagonist; even when they’re one-shots or hasty caricatures they’ve got more life than Grimm himself, bless his heart. Jesus, that guy. So goddamn earnest, and not even clever. Lawful Good has never looked so aggressive, yet bland.
Mind you, if this show were about Monroe, I’d have myself a new fandom. What’s not to love about a redneck zen werewolf with a clock collection? He’s darling, and the actor plays him with pitch perfection – as a fellow balancing at least three very different, mutually exclusive sets of impulses. Too bad Grimm is such a douche-canoe to him all the time, treating him like an Igor, or a second-rate Watson … because Monroe is infinitely more competent than Grimm.
Has Grimm ever torn off a dude’s arm and used it to defend himself? No, I would wager he has not. Point: Monroe.
Anyway, speaking of Watson and whatnot, yes, I’ve kept up with Sherlock. I had my reservations at first, but now I really do love it. Not in the same way I love anything mentioned above, of course; I don’t want to watch Sherlock unless I’m really ready to pay attention, and it is a pleasure to pay attention to, start to finish. Even the somewhat weaker episodes are better than the vast majority of recent interpretations.
[As my husband said (upon leaving the theater after Game of Shadows) – Hollywood spends fifty skillion dollars to make one of these questionable, tarty Holmes flicks every few years … and the BBC casually craps out gold three times a season. Hell to the yes.]
And yes, I have some thoughts about The Final Problem. I think I noticed many of the right things, but I’m not sure how to put these observations together to form a non-cheating theory just yet. (And I trust them not to cheat.) Maybe I’ll never pull together the full picture on my own, but that’s okay. Season three: Incoming.
And I am patient.
More or less.
Hmm. What else do I watch with any consistency? Castle, I suppose. That one’s always entertaining. Two thumbs up and a couple of toes. Someone get me a montage of Nathan Fillion biting the back of his hand. Make it happen. Stat.
Oh look at all those words I just typed when I should’ve been working on revisions. Eh. These things happen. Blogging looked easier than hardcore editorial work, and it’s dark, and it’s cold, and that wine is looking oh-so-tempting right about now.
I’m tired, that’s all. But I only have another week or so before I wrap up this draft, hand it off, and then start something new. Much as I love this project – and I do – I’m looking forward to the change in creative scenery. You’d think this would motivate me to log off and be productive.
And come to think of it, you’d be correct.
Wait a minute. I’ve just discovered Animals Talking in All Caps. Shit, this is shaping up to be a long night.
* I’m half kidding. But it was pretty bad when I handed it in, and long may my editor’s praises be sung – for lo, she did not send me a Bomb O’Gram in retaliation for the woefully, painfully inadequate draft I inflicted upon her. It’s fixable, and I’m fixing it. But I might not be fixing it fast enough.