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February 17th, 2010

writing sf starwars wookiee stet

YOU SHOULD BE WRITING

Well, I'm six episodes into Castle, and it's not too bad so far. If this is what the general public thinks the writer life is like (see also: NCIS) no wonder they're confused about how much we're making off ebook sales.

It's kind of the House thing--the characters (with the exception of Beckett, who is a terrible stereotype but the actress is doing her best with her, and of Alexis) are so unlikable that I don't actually have to invest in any of them. But since I'm not big on watching other people suffer, it loses the joy-of-schadenfreude aspect for me.

It does confirm my suspicion that what Firefly badly needed was a Wookiee, however, because I find I enjoy the show most during those moments when Beckett is handing Castle his head.

Castle needs to work on his ergo if he's going to have any wrists left in ten years. Also, man, I hope those are the publisher's titles, or I have lost all respect for him, even as a pulp author.

Castle's screen saver, however, has great verisimilitude.

I wish my book launches came with paparazzi.

Actually, you know, maybe I don't.

Checking my log, it's been 9 days since my last day off (and technically speaking, I wrote 500 words after midnight last night), so I think I'm going to take at least the morning off and indulge in more formulaic TV and a lot of tea. Peer pressure may engage me to write later, I imagine.

No running today. I'm tired, and there will be climbing tonight and possibly running tomorrow.
writing palencar horrid glory

(no subject)

This morning, NPR informs me that honeybees get five million miles per gallon. And Sandip Roy finds chaat in Berkeley.
daffodils

a killer caught by a lousy television show and a rotten commercial. something poetic about that.

Other nonspoilery reactions to Castle as watched.

Man, I am glad my relationship with my publishers is not that adversarial. And nine weeks overdue? Nine weeks? Man, there would be a lot of authors in gutters if that was all it took. Castle needs a better agent.

(I once sat at a table where a NYT best-selling author and a World-Fantasy-Award winning author were measuring up their longest deadline misses. The winner was at 8 years and counting. The book, by the way, has since been delivered.)

Come to think of it, where *is* his agent?

The cold open is and remains the best thing about the show.

Most interestingly, I can't decide if I'm amused that here in the future, the skilled professional is the woman and the annoying dilettante who nevertheless knows everyone and everything is the man? And the man still gets to have the show named after him?

(Which leads me to wonder: have you all noticed that this is Remington Steele*? Down to the "every murder is a book/movie plot" conceit?

Yeah, I thought you had probably caught that.)

(*Nathan Fillion, alas, is no Pierce Brosnan. But thank God for the lack of '80s hair. Still, he really needs to get untypecast, or maybe just play a different character once in a while.)
bad girls  mae west

the harder that they hit me the less i seem to bruise

There was climbing. Still stuck halfway up that white 5.10, but I got the green 5.10 on the slab wall again, proving it wasn't a fluke. Also did part of a new 5.8 (which I will come back to) and a really hard 5.8+ I've done before. And then I ran up and down a couple of the usual suspects.

My hands are totally sore and out of sorts from that white 5.10, which is brutal. But I am determined.

I appear to be getting better at this.