Dana's Notebook

Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull (contains spoilers)

2008-06-27T10:31:00.000-07:00

****Warning: spoiler alert****

Yeah, I finally saw it. And yeah, I didn’t like it.

I swear, I tried. Honest.

The reason I saw it so late was because Tess Gerritsen and I decided to wait until we could see it together. Tess is a big fan of both archaeology (and she knows waaay more about mummies than I do) and adventure movies. Anyway, we got together with the menfolk, had a good meal, some wine, and I promised myself I wouldn’t pick on the archaeology (not that there’s ever much). If it was a good adventure story, I’d be happy.

I know nothing will ever touch Raiders of the Lost Ark, but jeez. The idea of opening the movie with the last, exquisite shot of the warehouse from Raiders—tearing the veil off that perfect mystery, and worse, putting that in the TRAILER—made me sputter long before I saw the movie. But in the interest of trying to be fair, I’ll try and leaven my nit-pickery with what I did like in parens. They are nits the size of VW Beetles, though. (N.B. My views don’t necessarily reflect those of the whole party in attendance).

***Hic Spoilers***

1. Everyone in the cast seemed to be tired/bored/mugging.

(Karen Allen was the exception; I’ve missed Marian. Hands up everyone who ever tried to learn the Nepalese dialogue so they could recreate the drinking scene in Raiders. I know I’m not the only one. I liked that the older characters had some mileage on them, and I liked learning about Indy’s war record, but Mac? How disposable was he? He was pretty cardboard, and they already had the Cate Blanchett character for moral (yawn) comparison.)

2. It felt like every shot in the film was reproducing from one of George Lucas’s films (the other Indy films, American Graffiti, Star Wars, etc.). The problem with this was that it recalled all those excellent scenes (Indy, arm in arm with Marian, going down stairs; the morphing of the Paramount logo into the first shot; bad guy brains melting at the end; etc.). It made me wish I was watching those movies again.

(Umm, I’m groping for a pro here: okay, the fight scenes. Indy’s learned to throw some elbows and his ground-game's gotten better. There was some cool capoeira-looking choreography by the zombies-dudes in the cemetery. Very ambitious, for zombies.)

3. The dialogue blew chunks. It telegraphed everything (the reference to fencing in the first act…) and spelled everything out while trying to sound snappy. Nothing worse.

(The line about Comrade Spalko sinking those teeth “into the wubble-u’s” was great.)

4. Aliens? Aliens, really? And for a group mind, they weren’t a very efficient system, if missing one dang skull kept them from Phoning Home. Also: please, movie people: why, why, why is the mandible always fused to the maxilla?

(Even though I kept thinking the plastic skulls filled with Saran Wrap were really hokie, I loved the idea of the glass skeletons. Is there some glass blower on Murano who takes skeleton orders? Now, that’s home decor.)

5. The chase scenes, even with ants—and I liked the ants— went on forever (and recalled the “speeder chase” from Return of the Jedi). They weren’t fun, either. There's only so many times you can watch Mutt getting whacked in the goolies before even that pales.

(Loved the reference to V. Gordon Childe in the library. Dumb moment, but a great archaeology reference with layers relating to the movie’s political setting. And, at a stretch, the aliens.)

6. Um, absolutely no explanation of “Adventure Spoons” anywhere (see my blog entry, "No time for love, Dr. Jones"). The mystery remains.

(At least Indy and Marian got together at the end.)

This rates with three other films that I thought could have been brilliant but left me gnashing my teeth and calling for a script and a red pencil. I’m not sure this movie will even have the effect of imbuing archaeology with temporary cool, as Raiders did, a bazillionty-one years ago. But at least now I won’t be dating myself too badly if I reference Indiana Jones.

Watch here for my take on Hell Boy II. And pray for me. It's all up to you to restore my faith, Guillermo del Toro.

The Great Book Rodeo is over

2008-06-23T08:37:00.001-07:00

I am pleased to announce that the great “bookcase and painting adventure of 2008” is completed. Over the past five months, we had built-in bookcases put in my office (first pic) and the library (second pic), and the second floor finally received the coat of paint it’s wanted since we moved in 12 years ago. Planning started in February, work began in mid-May and wrapped up early June. Mr. G valiantly moved 100 boxes of books and ten boxes of office stuff from the second floor to the basement and back. About 100 books went off to the local library, with another 100 books “culled for consideration.” I can report the project was 100% accident-free (I banged up my back moving a box of books I’d shipped from the International Spy Museum, an unrelated incident).

The project went remarkably smoothly, considering that, at various times, the bedroom, bathroom, and my office (and therefore, the dining room, which was the office pro tem or “Colonial One”) were affected. Since it’s been Kate da Cat’s understanding for the past 18 years that unless Ma is at her desk by 8:00am, something’s wrong, our mutual schedule was upset for a month. But all to a good cause: I have a really nice, clean workspace (after twenty years of working in basements and corners, this means a lot), our guest room/ library is now tidy and comfortable, and the upstairs got the painting it desperately needed.

We added shelves to the office closet, where Kate has a niche for her basket, perfect for supervising and editorial control.

We need to sort out new curtains, but apart from that…we’re good. Life is back to normal and better.

One regret: although the bookshelves go to the ceiling, the house is too small for a built in rail and ladder system. While I love whizzing past bookcases on a ladder as much as the next girl (and have discreetly abused that privilege in some very posh research libraries), it wouldn’t work chez nous. However, I found a nifty little two-step ladder that fits our space (above), reaches the top shelves, and doubles as a seat. Nice form and balance.

Happiness is having your house back. Heaven is an office built to spec. Nirvana is no longer having to sing the alphabet song repeatedly while trying to sort out your fiction by author.

(N.B. My books would be between Italo Calvino and Dorothy Cannell, if I kept them in the library. Drop me a line, and I’ll tell you where your books are.)

Julia Spencer-Fleming guest blogs for the Femmes--and free books!

2008-06-09T17:35:00.001-07:00

Julia Spencer-Fleming is the guest blogger for the Femmes Fatales this week! Check out her post at www.femmesfatales.typepad.com and find out how you you could win one of five signed copies of her latest novel, I Shall Not Want. Good luck.

If he's freaked out by this...

2008-06-06T05:21:00.000-07:00

...I hope he never, ever look at my bookcases. Or those of my writer friends. He'd be in for a real shock.

"He" is one of the bloggers at the New York Times, who was a little anxious about a collection of books being auctioned off from a police evidence room. The books in question were part of the "Howdunit" series, which is pretty basic stuff for crime writers--intros to crime scene investigation, poisons, etc.

Pretty funny.

The 2008 Anthony Award Nominations

2008-06-03T05:25:00.000-07:00

The 2008 Anthony Award Nominees have been announced. Congratulations to all the nominees!

Best Novel:
James Lee Burke-Tin Roof Blowdown- Simon and Schuster
Lee Child – Bad Luck and Trouble Delacorte Press
Robert Crais- The Watchman Simon and Schuster
William Kent Krueger-Thunder Bay Atria
Laura Lippman – What the Dead Know William Morrow

Best First Novel:
Sean Chercover- Big City, Bad Blood William Morrow
Tana French- In the Woods Viking Adult
Lisa Lutz-The Spellman Files Simon and Schuster
Craig MacDonald- Head Games Bleak House Books
Marcus Sakey- The Blade Itself St. Martin Minotaur

Best Paperback Original
Megan Abbott- Queenpin Simon and Schuster
Ken Bruen and Jason Starr – Slide Hard Case Crime
David Corbett- Blood of Paradise Ballantine Books
Robert Fate- Baby Shark’s Beaumont Blues Capital Crime Press
P.J. Parrish- A Thousand Bones Pocket

Short Story
Rhys Bowen- Please Watch Your Step- (The Strand Magazine-Spring 07)
Steve Hockensmith-Dear Dr. Watson- (Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine)
Toni L. P. Kelner - How Stella Got her Grave Back - (Many Bloody Returns edited by Charlaine Harris and Toni L.P. Kelner) for Ace Hardcover
Laura Lippman- Hardly Knew Her - (Dead Man’s Hand edited by Otto Penzler) for Harcourt
Daniel Woodrell -Uncle – (A Hell of A Woman: An Anthology of Female Noir edited by Megan Abbott) for Busted Flush Press

Critical Work
Arthur Conan Doyle: A Life in Letters by Jon Lellenberg, Daniel Stashower & Charles Foley Penguin
The Essential Mystery Lists Compiled by Roger Sobin Poisoned Pen Press
The Triumph of the Thriller: How Cops, Crooks and Cannibals Captured Popular Fiction – Patrick Anderson Random House
Deviance in Contemporary Crime Fiction- Christiana Gregoriou Palgrave MacMillan

Special Services
Jon and Ruth Jordan- Crime Spree Magazine
Ali Karim- Shotz Magazine
Maddy Van Hertbruggen- 4MA
Sarah Weinman- Confessions of an Idiosyncratic Mind
Judy Bobalik- for being one of the best friends and supporters of mystery writers anywhere

Web Site
Confessions of an Idiosyncratic Mind- Sarah Weinman
Rap sheet/January Magazine –J Kingston Pierce
Murderati – A Writer’s Blog
Stop You’re Killing Me- Stan Ulrich & Lucinda Surber
Crime Fiction Dossier- David Montgomery

Soon, I will have all my books back...

2008-05-30T10:47:00.000-07:00

...but for now:

The BR Pile

Frederick Forsyth, The Day of the Jackal

A friend once called me an “eighteenth-century structure freak.” It is, regrettably, a fairly accurate description. Maybe that’s why DotJ absolutely sent me. OMG, the structure. At first, I was wondering why the in-depth background of what seemed to be tertiary characters, thinking I’d give it one more chapter before I got bogged down to the point of somnolence. And then I saw what Forsyth was doing, building the connections the way a detective does—and the way a villain plans an assassination—moving from the known to the unknown. It was one of those ideal situations where you’re marveling at the craftsmanship (not only the writing, but the tradecraft) at the same time you can’t put the book down. I picked the book up because I’m catching up on my classic thrillers and figured that if the movie is as good as it is, the novel must be even better. I was right.

Jeff Gordinier, X Saves the World: How Generation X Got the Shaft but Can Still Keep Everything from Sucking

I was a little skeptical of this at first; I’d really responded to Gordinier’s YouTube video describing the book (how typically Generation X), but as a Gen Xer myself, I bridled at the thought of being examined and pigeonholed (how typically Generation X). The book is really more of a celebration of how “Generation X is doing the quiet work of keeping the world from sucking.” Snuggled uneasily between the nostalgic-to-the-point-of-dogmatism Boomers and the group-‘n’-greed-oriented Millennials, Gordinier’s point is that a comparatively small demographic born between 1960 and 1979 has been unfairly categorized as coffee-sucking slackers while at the same time reshaping the way America (and maybe the world) lives, thinks, and does business. It’s not a full-on sociological or ethnological study, but it works as an introduction to the Gen-X mindset and as a manifesto for a generation who are anti-manifesto. It was, like its subject, iconoclastic, micro, skeptical, poetical, technical, hip, and ultimately, optimistic. I had fun reading it, felt smug about recognizing the music, media, and movie references, and found myself thinking, “yeah, man, it’s about time!”

Charlaine Harris, From Dead to Worse

One of the things I love most about Charlaine’s supernatural books is the complexity and honesty she brings to her world-building. The alien, often violent, world of vampires, shapeshifters, fae, and other supernaturals is not made easier with the transition into the legal, commercial, and emotional environments of mere mortals. Then there’s the tightrope Sookie Stackhouse has to walk between these two worlds, given her unique talents, prized by the supes, feared or misunderstood by humans. Add to those the stresses of rebuilding all these communities in the Gulf post-Katrina, and it’s no surprise that the eighth book in the series is packed with action, emotion, and, well, philosophy. How do you make decisions when the rules with which you’re used to dealing don’t exist in the cultures asking for your help? As a reader, I always appreciate that Charlaine avoids taking things to the maudlin or histrionic, and just when you think things are going to get out of hand, Sookie’s moral compass and sense of humor keep things real. That’s my definition of a real hero.

Martians and pixie dust

2008-05-28T05:54:00.000-07:00

I’m usually pretty good about not venting my spleen on inanimate objects, but I really had a fit the other day when I heard someone on the radio complaining that only 55% of NASA’s missions to Mars have been successful.

“What the hell do you want, you effing microcephaloid?” I screamed, froth spattering the innocent radio. “It’s another PLANET! You slash an agency’s budget repeatedly and they STILL come up with a plan for interplanetary exploration—one that is currently succeeding—and you have the gall to complain, you mental pygmy?”

My ire almost obscured the important fact: the Phoenix landed on Mars and started sending back pictures. You should check them out, here.

O.
M.
G.

Sign me up. I’m dazzled. If I ran the zoo, a crewed mission would already be heading to Mars.

And then I read about a procedure that may help a wounded U.S. soldier regrow his fingers. Regrow. In addition to surgery, the doctors (specialists in regenerative medicine) use a powder to trick the body into regenerating cells. Nicknamed “pixie dust,” it’s derived from pig tissue. It’s still in the experimental stage, but has amazing potential.

To paraphrase one of the doctors working on the procedure, “science fiction eventually becomes true.” This is what reassures me, when it seems like the weasels are closing in. We can do amazing things, when we put our minds to it. More science, more education, not less. When I run the zoo, my comprehensive education plan will make Jed Bartlet look like Mr. Squeers.

But in the meantime, I’ve stopped hissing and spitting at the radio and started skipping. Just a little.

Recent events

2008-05-21T08:07:00.001-07:00

Last week was pretty hectic, what with carpenters loose in the house and two events in the local mystery community. Best not to talk about the work being done on the house. Far more interesting to talk about the mystery events.

The first was the celebration of the 25th anniversary of Kate’s Mystery Books, in Cambridge, MA, owned by Kate Mattes. Many of the New England crowd turned out (Linda Barnes is talking with Kate, below, right). Those of us readers and writers in the Boston area—make that the Northeast—have all benefited one way or another from knowing Kate over the years. Actually, make that the country: Kate and her bookstore were recently honored with the prestigious Mystery Writers of America’s Raven Award (left), for service to the mystery community. I could tell you how I found Kate’s as a reader, and then how, when my first book came out, she was the first to offer me an event, how she introduced me to folks I needed to know, and pointed me toward books I needed to read. This would be the story that most any writer who came to the store could tell you. Kate will be moving the store’s location and we’re all looking forward to the next anniversary in the new digs. (Toni Kelner wrote a nice description on May 16, of Kate, her store, and the party here.)

And then on Thursday, I participated in a Sisters in Crime event at Leominster Library (in case you didn’t know, Kate Mattes was one of the founders of Sisters in Crime). There was a really nice crowd for our discussion of “The Modern Heroine,” and with me on the panel was Kate Flora, (seated right) past New England chapter President and SinC “Goddess,” and Hank Phillippi Ryan, who just won the Agatha for best first novel (middle). The program was organized by NE SinC chapter president Ruth McCarty. What I most enjoyed about the talk was that we covered everything from guns to research to our characters’ relationships to editorial issues.

No, I didn't empty them all myself

2008-05-12T12:09:00.001-07:00

I’m in exile. In the past month, I’ve packed up my entire office (with almost twelve years worth of accumulation and accretion) and the library/guest room. This is the main reason I’ve been absent from this space for so long.

I’ve been plaguing all the local liquor stores for empty boxes because it’s an excellent reuse of the cardboard boxes they get by the tens (sometimes hundreds) every day. It’s a good thing I started when I did, because college is letting out all over New England, and every kid on every nearby campus is thinking: hey, I bet the liquor store will have free boxes. Fortunately (and let’s not be coy about this), I’m on a first name basis with most of the purveyors of booze in town. And I’m older and wilier.

So now most of my books are in the basement (there may be between 120-150 boxes, all told), the old bookcases are in the garage, and my office pro-tem is in the dining room. The cat is vexed with the disruption to her routine. I managed to put my back out. Mr. G. hopes not to make the journey from second floor to basement, loaded with 30lbs of books each time, for at least two weeks, when the process will be reversed.

It’s all in a good cause, this temporary exile. New, built-in, bookcases are incoming. New paint will be applied (hey, it needed it when we moved in, and more than a decade later…). Books have been culled and laterally recycled in some suitable fashion, and more may be sent out into the world before the process is completed.

But for now, it’s organized mayhem.

After Malice

2008-05-12T11:25:00.001-07:00

It’s been a while: I apologize. It’s all too easy to think of a conference as being “just Friday to Sunday,” but there’s prep before, travel time, re-entry…and it all adds up. Plus there’s new and exciting mayhem at home (but more about that shortly).

To recap: Malice is always a hoot. There’s always so many friends to catch up (and get into trouble) with, and new folks to meet (and get into trouble with: hi, Charlatans!). Friend and Fellow Femme Fatale Charlaine Harris (left) was the Guest of honor and friend and Fellow Femme Fatale Toni Kelner (right) ably interviewed her in front of a packed house.

My panel, “You’re History,” was fun because everyone on the panel had worked as a historian, researcher, archaeologist and had used their experiences in their books. And there were great questions from the audience, which adds to any event. In the picture are: Moderator Sharan Newman, your humble blogger, Kate Gallison, and Sally Wright; (seated) Kathy Lynn Emerson and Aileen Baron.

I think my favorite panel was the one where the Guest of Honor and International Guest of Honor(Charlaine and Lindsey Davis), Lifetime Achievement honoree(Peter Lovesy), and Toastmaster (Dan Stashower) were asked by Verena Rose about their fan mail and fan responses. The fans in some of the accounts made themselves memorable by exceptionally bad or good behavior, but everyone in the audience was riveted.

And then…there was playing hooky. Yes, I know Malice is a short conference, and there is really no time to play hooky. Except…knowing this, it becomes both a challenge and a point of honor to do so. So, on various occasions when I thought no one was looking, I went to the Newseum, The International Spy Museum (because I don’t have enough books), and the National Gallery (one of my favorite museums in the world; brilliant collection in a space that manages to be both grand and human-scaled).

Every school bus in the world was on the Mall, because it was school trip or school vacation time for EVERYONE. I had to be at my most nimble to dodge them all.

No time for love, Dr. Jones

2008-04-20T05:52:00.001-07:00

And apparently Indy can’t spare the time, because he’s too busy plastering his mug all over the supermarket. Everywhere I looked this morning, there he was, on M&Ms, cereal, the toy aisle. Sigh. It makes me long for the elegantly discreet merchandizing strategies of say, Shrek, or Ghostbusters in its hey-day.

I’m an old-school Indiana Jones fan, and I’m looking forward to seeing the new movie. But before I do, someone needs to tell me: What is an “Adventure Spoon?”

Maria Lima blogs for the Femmes Fatales

2008-04-14T11:39:00.000-07:00

Agatha-nominated author Maria Lima (Matters of the Blood) is guest-blogging for the Femmes Fatales this week. Check out her essay, "Sometimes, vampires truly do suck...and not in the good way" here. And if you're attending Malice Domestic in about two week, say hey to us both!

Stranded

2008-04-09T08:22:00.000-07:00

Last week I was stranded on a desert island. I say stranded, not because we were lacking for resources (there were a few useful bars close at hand), but because the first season of "Battlestar Galactica" started and the hotel cable didn't run to SciFi. What's a geek to do? When we'd exhausted all the possibilities with the Internet (yes, I vacation with a laptop), I came up with a brilliant plan: the nearby casino had (I assumed) big screen TVs with satellite and everydamnthing. Surely the punters there wouldn't mind if we switched it over to SciFi for an hour while the show was on? Actually, three hours, as there were a few specials on before the main event. Brilliant, right?

Fortunately, the dimwitted Pollyanna in me was bludgeoned into submission by a precious remnant of low animal cunning that informed me that being clawed to death by lizard-skinned gambling elders would not be worth the impatience. I had another rum, picked up another book, and managed to wait the extra day to watch the recording at home.

It was worth it.

Vacation was a good break: restful, no sun burn (I use a level of SPF that would block a nuclear flash), loads of books, and no appointments besides dinner and a couple of trips to the gym. Coming back to 40 degrees and rain only underscored the niceness of not being cold and rained on for a week.

And on a sadder note...

I found out that Robert Fagles passed away last week. Some of you may remember that I held his translation of The Odyssey responsible for keeping me alive during a hairy moment with a train-load of football fans in England years ago (you can check that story out here). While I may have had a soft spot in my heart for Professor Fagles for that reason, I also appreciated his translations. They got people excited about reading Homer and Virgil for the pleasure of the storytelling and the language.

Ahht Cahh

2008-03-28T08:59:00.000-07:00

This is one of the many reasons I love living in a town with an art college. You encounter random art on the way to breakfast.

My other favorite was spray painted on the asphalt inside the cross-walks downtown. It was a stylized image of a llama with the instructions “Quadruped Xing only.”

Tradition

2008-03-24T05:55:00.001-07:00

Creepy and amazing

2008-03-20T11:18:00.000-07:00

That's what BigDog is. It's a gasoline powered quadruped robot funded by DARPA and developed by Boston Dynamics. These robots "have rough-terrain mobility that can take them anywhere on Earth that people and animals can go." Check out the video here.

What creeps me out is the noise the thing makes and the look of it. It's got an eerie resemblance to a spider (it's the legs), and for a while, I thought it was two humans, participating in some kind of performance art. Armor that sucker up, put a weapon on it, and I wouldn't want to see it marching up my hill.

What amazes me is its lifelike mobility. When it slips, you feel sorry for it because it moves so much like an animal--you've slipped like that before. You can practically feel it. The control it has in recovering is mind-boggling, as is the way it can mimic different types of gait. Besides watching it move on ice, the thing that I can't stop watching is the lab test where it leaps over the obstacle and gets all four "feet" past the mark. The computational power and engineering behind this is staggering.

All references to The Terminator, the works of Isaac Asimov, or the walkers in The Empire Strikes Back are appropriate.

Blog zombie

2008-03-19T07:59:00.000-07:00

It’s not often that a web comic can combine three of my recent favorite things, but I suppose that’s why xkcd is on my desktop. Usually I agree with the Elaine character (yay! A brunette!), but this time, I have to go with Zombie Feynman.

The BR Pile

Max Brooks, The Zombie Survival Guide: Complete Protection from the Living Dead

What I loved about this book is its sheer density and comprehensiveness. The logic Brooks uses to make his arguments for the effectiveness of certain weapons and strategies is so carefully considered that you can imagine years of long nights arguing in bars about zombies, zombie movies, and zombie lore. If you can’t be there, making that kind of argument with your friends, this is the next best thing. It’s the kind of humor book that gets so detailed, so serious, so engrossing, that you forget that it’s fiction: I actually found myself thinking, “okay, I’ve got a machete, but what about a range weapon?” From the historian’s point of view, it was also interesting to see his take on why the Roanoke colony was abandoned… It’s not a giggly-type humor book, it’s more of a parody and satire, much in the same vein (hur hur hur) of one of the best zombie movies ever, Shaun of the Dead.

Chris Ayres, War Reporting for Cowards

Through a series of misconceived choices, all made to avoid trouble or conflict of any sort, Chris Ayres found himself embedded with Marines in Iraq in 2003. A financial reporter for The Times (London), Ayres is uniquely unqualified to be a war reporter. He makes no bones about being a coward, he is hugely incapable of imagining life on the front lines, and he’d much rather be in Hollywood, reporting on the financial side of making movies. Ayres has a turn of phrase and a capacity for self-revelation that is at times unnerving. Sure, it’s hysterical: the man goes to Iraq with twenty pairs of Calvin Klein underpants and a bright yellow tent with a large red cross on top—practically a bull’s-eye. But there are moments of pure poignancy, when he’s talking about the fear, the madness, the boredom, and the discomfort, where you have to admit to yourself, “wow, I don’t think I’d do any better in that situation.” A really fantastic book (this one happens to be nonfiction) can make you do that.

So that's why I go to the gym...

2008-03-17T09:21:00.000-07:00

I've been playing around with scenes for a new book. I haven't had that one aha moment, the one where you know what the book is about and where it needs to go, and all the blind groping is damned depressing. But, like every other writer, I keep plugging along, hoping for that moment. It will mean a bunch of hard work, but as long as I have that all-important goal, it'll be okay.

Doesn't matter: Sunday is gym day.

On the elliptical trainer: grind, grind, grind. Stare at the large televisions showing sports I don't care about and news items that aren't news items. Snarl, snarl, snarl.

On the weight machines: ick, ick, ick. The weasel who was there before me did not wipe them down after he worked out. Find a paper towel and crank up my music. La, la, la.

On the mats: crunch, crunch, cr--huh? While my brain was unplugged, a thought has taken root. It's not the big answer I was looking for, but it is a way to do a scene I've been thinking about without it being a cliche. It tells me a little more about my characters. It gives me another edge of the story to work on. It fits.

Startled looks from the other sweaty people: I've been singing along with my iPod. Audibly. For those of you who don't already know, I should never, ever sing in public (or anywhere else).

But it's worth it: now I've got another angle.

Read these essays now!

2008-03-13T07:43:00.001-07:00

Fellow Femme Fatale Donna Andrews' March 11, 2008 post on the Sisters in Crime website deserves your attention on many levels. And so does her essay "Ask not what SinC can do for you," which is here. Go Donna!

Go to Oline Cogdill's blog, and scroll down to March 2, 2008. (You can and should read the other stuff on the way: I'll wait.) And when you're done, read a version of this talk here. Lee gave a version of this talk at the Virginia Festival of the Book a couple of years ago: he had me at "punctuated equilibrium."

BSG 2008

2008-03-10T13:17:00.000-07:00

Okay, I just found out that the premiere of the fourth and final season of "Battlestar Galactica" is April 4 at 10:00pm on SciFi. Yes, I'm behind the times, but it's self-preservation of a sort.

I can't tell if I'll make it until then to find out what the FRAK is going on.

I can't tell if I'll make it after the end of the season, knowing there'll be no more BSG.

The only thing I know is that if the ending lives up to the first 3.5 seasons, it will be astonishing.

If you don't know the new BSG, get the DVDs, study up. I don't care if you're not into science fiction, it's not about spaceships and aliens. This is some of the best writing on TV these days. Ever.

Trust me: these aren't your parents' Cylons.

Or are they?

Project Runway--are you kidding me?

2008-03-07T12:30:00.000-08:00

(***Contains Spoilers***)

All right, it's not so much to do with writing, reading, or what trouble I'm planning, but here's a rant for you. I like a couple of reality competition shows, primarily "Project Runway" and "Top Chef," mostly because you get to see the transformation of an idea into a physical thing, which I think is way cool. And it's someone else doing the work, so, yay, a mental margarita for me. If they could do it well for writing, I wish they would, but it's not much fun to look at the top of someone else's head when she's scribbling feverishly, and fabric is pretty, so for now, we'll stick with design and cuisine.

I just watched the finale episode of "Project Runway" and I'm totally buggin'. Christian? Are you kidding me?

No doubt, he has talent and he has a definitive look. *One* look, and very nearly all of the same color. I mean, hey, I'm no one to talk about someone going into the ultraviolet, dark and gothic, but jeez, C., be a darling and throw in a couple of jewel tones.

Rami's show was clunky with a palette that confused the hell out of me. Yes, I'm a sucker for someone who can drape, but what he showed at the "three-look" contest with Chris was incoherent and heavy, and his runway show was worse. I thought Chris's look, yes, even with the hair extensions, told more of a story, fit together well, and was really lovely. I think he should have gone to Fashion Week. I found myself looking at his designs and saying "me want."

And, for the record, why were the judges freaking about using hair extensions as a trim? Why is that more gross than wearing them on your head? What's the difference between that and yak hair or something else? What was the difference between that and the FEATHERS on Christian's last gown? Yrrrch. Yes, I think Chris could have pared back. Yes, I think he did it for shock value, and could easily have gotten the same look (or a more restrained one) using other materials. It blew up in his face and I think it distracted the judges.

Jillian, IMO, should have won. I liked her stuff a LOT. It was strong, it was feminine, it was historical and modern and there was a lot of innovation in it. The line was coherent and it was couture. The judges said they were surprised by her silhouettes, but then damned her with words like "wearable" and "accessible," which is pretty much a death knell. And, to me, utterly nonsensical as a put-down. I think the pret-a-porter interpretation would have been boffo.

::stomps off in a model-ly huff::

The BR Pile

2008-02-27T07:50:00.000-08:00

Patricia Briggs, Moon Called

Moon Called is the first of the books I’ve been reading to get better acquainted with the contributors to Wolfsbane and Mistletoe, and there were two things that particularly stood out for me, in addition to the clean, compelling writing: Mercy (Mercedes) is a skin-walker outsider who is caught between her allegiances to two werewolf clans. As a protagonist, she’s neither a martyr nor a sap, and while she makes good use of her powers, she’s not a superhero or a preacher. This is incredibly hard to do with a character. The other thing that I thought was a cut above was Briggs' take on werewolf reproduction and its hazards—and why the world isn’t overrun with werewolves. I’ll be reading the next books in this series for sure.

Kirsten Holmstedt, Band of Sisters: American Women at War in Iraq

I grabbed a copy of Band of Sisters on my way to the cash register. I’d heard good things about it and knew that it was about women in the military in Iraq, but I didn’t realize it wasn’t a compilation of first-person narratives. My bad, I could have figured this out by flipping through the book, but Holmstedt’s flat writing style kept getting in the way of these accounts for me. What does work and what is important about the book is the stories of the women themselves, honest and moving accounts of soldiers, sailors, Marines, pilots, nurses, and reservists in Iraq. Like their male counterparts, their reasons for going were varied and personal; unlike the men, it seemed that these service members’ quest for excellence is made harder by gender-based prejudices. Read this alongside Love My Rife More Than You, by Kayla Williams.

A correction: I listed Barbara Schading and Richard Schading, A Civilian’s Guide to the U.S. Military on the TBR pile. I'm using that for reference, not so much a read-through kinda book. What I should have listed was War Reporting for Cowards, by Chris Ayers, which I was reading at the same time. I'll let you know what I think about both.

And a word about the music I list on my landing page. I tend to consume music by individual songs, organized to suit a particular book (or activity). So whatever you’re seeing on that front page is what is keeping my typing or keeping me going at the gym, and that’s why there may be some repetition. I’ll post more about my music consumption and my WIPs later.

But this never happened at the Tate

2008-02-22T12:26:00.000-08:00

This weekend, I went into Boston with Mr. G for a much-needed break from the to-do list. One of our destinations was the recently opened ICA, Institute for Contemporary Art/Boston.

I like museums, and particularly art museums. I get recharged by them. And even if I prefer my art to predate 1900, I’ve had enough encounters with modern art to know it’s good for you. Shakes up the system, makes you look at the world anew. A tonic.

Alas, “shakes up the system” was the operative term.

There was an exhibit at the ICA called “The World as a Stage,” which was several pieces exploring how the audience and stage interact and create each other. Good stuff. But there was one installation, "Rotating Labyrinth," which was my undoing. It was concentric rings of angled mirrored posts, which reflected the outside of the ring, you (wherever you were), and the reflections of the reflections. It was a bit like being inside a zoetrope. I started cackling like mad and jogging around inside the rings, watching all of the reflections blur the “real world” and the “reflected world.” Wow! Cool!

Reflection. Recursion. Existentialism. Warped reality. Light and shadow.

Dizzy…

It all caught up with me: I might have been giggling like a demonic three-year-old, but I no longer have that childlike capacity to keep my head after prolonged twirling. I staggered out of the installation, and minutes later, was still light-headed. The problem was, most of the art, even the building itself (being located right on Boston Harbor), is geared toward light, movement, shadows, challenged perception. I imagined the security guards laughing as they watched security footage of other adult children careening around the room, banging into mirrors like sparrows into a bay window.

I lurched into another room and was confronted with what I believe was a twelve-foot tall bronze statue of spider.

An abrupt about-face didn’t help my wooziness, but it got me out of there. I hate spiders, Jock, I hate ‘em!

Thing is, if I hadn’t overdone it with the mirrors, I would have really had a great time. There was another piece, charcoal on wires, that was captivating. Ethereal. Audio visual art that was hysterical and challenging. I just have to manage how I interact with it all.

Lesson learned. It’s time to start treating art like the potent drug that it is. I know my limits.

Read Oline’s blog

2008-02-21T06:13:00.000-08:00

If you’re not already following Oline Cogdill’s excellent blog, in which she reviews many mysteries and comments on the mystery world, you should be. Oline’s got a thoughtful take on every subgenre and has been a champion in reviewing paperback originals (including mine) when other reviewers won’t. She’s also a lovely person.

So please subscribe to her blog in the Sun-Sentinel or make a point to check in regularly. Spend some time there. You’ll be glad you did.

Thanks!

Dana, Emma, Amy, Gerry, Margaret, and Spooky versus the Zombies

2008-02-13T10:22:00.001-08:00

My friend and fellow Femme Fatale Charlaine sent a copy of a quiz about surviving a zombie apocalypse to FafFF Toni and me. Being incapable of resisting anything resembling a standardized test, I took it. You can take it here.

Apparently I have a 41% chance of surviving a zombie attack. I admit it: I was miffed by this number, but that’s what you get for being honest about your abilities. And I probably would make decisions that were sentimental rather than geared to cold-blooded survival. But…still. I fancied my chances were better than 41%. I got really annoyed.

Eventually I realized I was taking a made-up test about a fictional situation altogether too seriously. Getting agitated over nothing, you might say. Sheepish me. Must cut down on that half cup of coffee I consume in a week.

But then it hit me—in this hypothetical situation, how would my fictional avatars do? I retook the test five times, trying to answer from the point of view of each of my protagonists (from books, short stories, and WIP). Here are their descriptions and the percentage chance they have against a full-on zombie assault.

Dana Cameron (mystery writer and archaeologist, Beverly, Massachusetts): 41%

Emma Fielding (archaeology professor, a small Massachusetts town): 43%.

Not surprisingly, Emma is most like me. She got a few points more because she’s probably better at stocking her emergency supplies than I am and lives in a much smaller community that I do. Zombies seem to prefer cities.

Amy Lindstrom (Washington Post reporter, outside Washington, D.C.): 32%.

Amy didn’t do as well as I thought she would, considering how smart and resourceful she is; she’s also in pretty good shape. I think what hurt her was living in a densely populated community and she would probably try to rescue more people. Altruism is not a quality respected by zombies.

Gerry Steuben (private investigator and werewolf, Salem, Massachusetts): 70%

This was an interesting one for me: is Gerry is changed or is he in human form? Who would win, a zombie or a werewolf? An astronaut or caveman? But since he’s pretty hard to kill , and is an ex-cop, he’d do okay. It’s just that damned inclination to heroics that brought his score lower.

Margaret Chandler (gentlewoman, a 1720s Massachusetts coastal town): 52%.

This took me by surprise, though it shouldn’t have. Margaret’s household would have been self-sufficient for a week or so at a time; longer, if she was at the farm. There would have been guns in the house, and she would be capable of learning to use one. There were no police or hospitals to run to. And no need to run far (in corsets?) to find her household, who would have been close by. Yay, Margaret! (Note to self: must explore concept of 18th-century zombies…)

Spooky (covert operative, outside Washington, D.C.): 90%

No surprise here: if Spooky were confronted with a zombie attack, she’d survive. More than that, she’d probably thrive, establish a post-apocalyptic settlement with herself at the helm, eventually taking over most of the mid-Atlantic region, with an eye to New York and Boston. Purely as a precautionary measure; she’s really a creature of simple needs. But I wouldn’t under any circumstances allow her to become a zombie…