Lydia Parks - Guest Post

Please welcome my guest, Lydia Parks!

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Thank you, Vickie, for inviting me to be your guest. I'm thrilled to be here, even if only virtually.

I know readers and aspiring authors like to hear how published authors got started. (I know this because I've been both! Yes, and I'm still a reader.) I'm happy to tell you my (semi-goofy) story.

I didn't start out to be a writer. Actually, I'm an engineer. One fateful night, I sat down to watch television--it was a cold winter night in Alaska, so it seemed like the thing to do--and I caught the first episode of "Forever Knight." Yow! Talk about a show before its time! I was a fan of Anne Rice's Interview with the Vampire, and this show was created just for me. It had all the sexual conflict and darkness with a cast of wonderful Canadian actors. I was hooked. Big time.

This happened in 1992 when the Internet was a new thing. My DH was one of the first people I knew who managed to hook in. As the Net grew, I discovered a group writing fanfiction for Forever Knight (stories that use the show's characters--the "episodes that were never filmed" concept). I jumped in and started writing. We all shared our stories with others online we'd never meet (or so we thought, but that comes later). When the show was cancelled after three seasons and most of the characters killed off, we all went into mourning. Then a couple dozen of us got together and wrote "Season 4." It was a blast, and I was picked to write an episode. I can't remember the name of it at the moment…maybe it'll come to me. Anyway, each "author" was assigned an editor, and mine turned out to be a real editor from New York. Once we'd finished the episode, she suggested I write a romance novel, so I did. I wish I knew who that editor was. I'd like to thank her.

There's more to the story--hours of heartache, a hundred or so "dear author" rejection letters, the long, hard road of learning to write a novel, the excitement of selling, etc.--but I won't go into all the details. I managed to sell some romance novels and a couple of mysteries, and then was asked to try my hand at erotica. "Erotica?" I thought. Hmm. Hot sex, dark alpha characters…vampires! Of course! So I started with the Nathan Cotton series (published by eXtasy Books), then sold some hot, juicy vampires to Aphrodisia (Addicted and Devour Me). I also have a vampire in a Nocturne Bite ("Shadow Lover") from Silhouette.

Maybe because of where I started, I'm a semi-purist when it comes to vampires. I'm not into the Nosferatu kind of vampires, all warty and pointy-eared, but definitely the Nick Knight version. My vampires can't go out in the sun and they aren't part-anything-else. A stake through the heart definitely does them in. And most of them can't stand garlic. They exist in the normal world, not a fantasy place filled with other super-naturals. One thing they all want is human blood, and it's always a very sexual experience for both vamps and humans when they take it. I just love the angst-ridden vampire image, even if he isn't always full of angst. It's all about the Hunger.

My latest story out from Nocturne Bites, "Marked" – which is available right now on eHarlequin.com – isn't about a vampire, but a shape-shifter. It's set in New Mexico and has a Native American flavor (thanks to a good friend who agreed to be my advisor). I really like the story. Maybe because it, too, has the hunger factor. He doesn't want to drink her blood…he just WANTS HER!

What I've realized about vampire (or shape-shifter) erotica is that it's no different than any other writing. If there's no conflict, it isn't interesting for me as either an author or a reader. I'm not saying that reading hot sex isn't fun, it's just that I can't read 200 pages of hot sex without a good story in there, too. Vampires present an automatic element of conflict; he wants her but he might kill her if he gives in to his desires. That's pretty strong conflict. However, if you can give the conflict a twist, you'll have a much stronger story. He's a vampire…if he takes her, he loses his only chance to see the sunlight again…she's actually a vampire hunter…she thinks he killed her father…get creative! What's the worst thing that could happen to him? The answer should be "her." Romance is a great basis for erotica, with or without vampires.

Oh, and I promised you the rest of the story. For my 39th birthday (I'm not telling you how long ago it was, but the photos are fading), I got to meet my favorite vampire: Geraint Wyn Davies who played Nick Knight. What a hunk, and an absolutely fabulous person! A good friend and I went to a crazy weekend event with 80 women and Ger. I must admit, I had a blast, but it was kind of a strange thing to do. Several of us got together to swap stories about what we'd told our friends and family we were spending the weekend doing: business meeting, friend's wedding, therapy. Too funny. Anyway, I met a bunch of the people I'd been sharing fanfiction with. I even got to sign a few stories--my first autographs! I'll always remember that weekend more than just a little fondly.

One thing I got from that event was an important lesson: know that the people reading what you're writing are real, they're out there somewhere, and you just might meet them! [toothy grin with fangs]

If you want to find out about any of my vamps or other creatures, please visit my website. I love to hear from readers!

Thank you again, Vickie! [hugs]

"He was brought across in 1228...preyed on humans for their blood..."

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Thanks, Lydia!

Any other fans of television vampires out there? And do they inspire you to write?

This is the first post in a little Vampire Blogging Festival I'm hosting. My upcoming guests include:

5/18 - M.K. Mancos
5/19 - Gemma Files
5/20 - Cate Hart
5/21 - Suzy McKee Charnas
6/2 - Anna Katherine
6/4 - Evie Byrne

Top 5 Violent Hot Space Opera Babes

And now for something completely different.

Sometimes, you just need to watch some women blow things up.

Today I'm going to recommend some violent and also hot space opera babes. Traditionally, these are done as top fives, so that's what I did.

1. Princess Leia, Star Wars. Like, duh. I think she was the hottest in her bounty hunter costume in Return of the Jedi. Quote: "I don't know where you get your delusions, laser brain."

2. Aeryn Sun, Farscape. Not only hot, but tough. Much more a warrior than her eventual paramour, scientist John Crichton. She even gives birth in the middle of a firefight. Quote: "Shooting makes me feel better."

3. Dayna Mellanby, Blake's 7. A brilliant creator of weaponry as well as user of same. Also, hot. Quote: "Without danger, there's no pleasure."

4. Starbuck, Battlestar Galactica. The female one. Okay, so I haven't watched the later seasons yet. But in the earlier seasons, she is amazingly hot and also a total rake. I would buy her in any historical romance. Especially hot in her military undershirt. Quote: "Me in a dress is a once in a lifetime opportunity."

5. Ellen Ripley, Aliens. The second movie is the best. Hard, gritty, nonstop, and she makes the hard decisions. Especially hot when shooting evil aliens. Quote: "I say we take off and nuke the entire site from orbit. That's the only way to be sure."

Researching the 1970s - Gwynne Garfinkle Guest Post

Please welcome my guest, Gwynne Garfinkle!

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Researching the Jo Book

I recently completed the second draft of a novel about a soap opera actress in mid-1970s New York City who's haunted by the ghost of her best friend who died protesting the Vietnam War. (The working title of the book is Some Misplaced Joan of Arc, but through the writing process I've mostly referred to it as "the Jo book.") I already knew a lot about soap operas and the '60s-'70s anti-war movement before I began writing, and I'm not sure I realized just how much research I would need to do.

I was ten years old in 1975, and in some respects I remember the time period very well. Yet it is in many ways a different world (not to mention the fact that I spent that time in Los Angeles, not New York). When I was writing a scene in which my protagonist Jo goes to see the newly released Dog Day Afternoon, I assumed she could go to her neighborhood movie house--but research revealed that the film only screened in one (now defunct) Manhattan movie theater when it first opened: Cinema 1. A friend of mine with access to newspaper archives even found me a New York Times ad for Dog Day Afternoon that included showtimes! Cinema Treasures, an online guide to classic movie theaters, provided a lot of info on Cinema 1.

A number of historical events are referenced in my novel, notably the arrest and trial of Patty Hearst. The book Patty's Got a Gun: Patricia Hearst in 1970s America and the documentary film Guerrilla - The Taking of Patty Hearst were excellent resources on the media's portrayal of the Hearst case. Again, my friend with access to newspaper archives helped me with specific news items, and I was amazed to learn that the New York Times headline for Patty Hearst's guilty verdict was: "MISS HEARST IS CONVICTED ON BANK ROBBERY CHARGES." I made frequent use of The Vanderbilt Television News Archive, which contains detailed descriptions of U.S. national network news broadcasts--including commercials--going back to 1968.
For information about the movement against the Vietnam War, as well as other political activism of the '60s-'70s, Cathy Wilkerson's Flying Close to the Sun: My Life and Times as a Weatherman and Dan Berger's Outlaws of America: The Weather Underground and the Politics of Solidarity were useful, as were the documentaries Rebels With a Cause and The Weather Underground.

As for the soap opera aspect of my novel, 1970s daytime dramas were produced in a very different way than they are today. Fortunately my friends Lara Parker (who played Angelique on Dark Shadows) and Rory Metcalf (who wrote for Ryan's Hope) answered my questions, as did Peter White, who played Linc on All My Children at just the time period of my novel. I also consulted biographies of soap opera actors and soap opera reference books, as well as Eight Years in Another World (a wonderful memoir by former Another World head writer Harding Lemay) and We Love Soaps, a great source of interviews and archival material.

A number of soap opera actresses have penned soap opera murder mysteries, from which I gleaned some behind-the-scenes information amid the dropping corpses. Books in this little subgenre include Louise Shaffer's All My Suspects and Eileen Davidson's Death in Daytime and Dial Emmy for Murder.

The other sources I used for Jo book research are too numerous to mention, but a few highlights include a 1976 NYC TV Guide, the 1975-76 Trans World Getaway Guide to NYC, the Mr. Pop Culture week by week archives, and a webpage of '70s toiletries advertisements, Stuck in the 70s. Sometimes a tiny, half-forgotten detail, like Love's Baby Soft or Gee, Your Hair Smells Terrific, can help bring a scene--and the time period of a novel--to life.


Gwynne Garfinkle lives in Los Angeles. Her fiction and poetry have appeared in Strange Horizons, Goblin Fruit, Aberrant Dreams, Space & Time, and the Clockwork Jungle Book issue of Shimmer. She is represented by Diana Fox of Fox Literary.

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Thanks, Gwynne!

Cell Phones Make Life Difficult (For Writers)

When Tanya Huff's vampire novels were made into a television series, Blood Ties, the original novels were re-released. The first time I read those books, I'd borrowed them from a friend. This time, I bought my own copies, since I was in the mood to reread them.

(This post is not about that television show, but I thought a visual of one of the show's leads might interest some of you.)

What interested me most about the reissued novels was in Tanya Huff's introduction. She noted that when the books were originally published, cell phones were not at all common. There were several plot incidents in the books that would have gone quite differently if the characters had been able to call each other!

When I think of plot and cell phones, the first show that pops into my mind is always The X-Files. Mulder and Scully were nearly glued to their phones, often exchanging huge chunks of dialogue while at widely-separated locations. In that case, cell phones became part of the world in which they operated, and integral parts of the story. Mulder and Scully with their cell phones also became part of the visual language of the show.

I think it's a little trickier to integrate cell phones with novels. For one thing, a phone conversation requires extra writing decisions, such as how much to reveal of the "other" side of the conversation, how to include sensual details in among the dialogue, etc.. But much more importantly, how many plots would evaporate if the characters could only call someone for help? Not to mention all the thousands of applications that now go along with cell phones? If the characters need to be without their cell phones for something to happen, is it now obligatory to spend words on working in a reason? (I can't help but be reminded of all the transporter issues they had to come up with in Star Trek.)

I can think of three approaches one could use. The first is to remove the cell phone at the point of action: heroine drops her cell out of the helicopter, the werewolf eats the hero's cell phone, the hero who's been using his cell as a GPS for days runs out of power at a critical moment. The second is to set up the lack of cell phone earlier in the story, which of course one can do by backtracking in one's manuscript to create foreshadowing (your key to quality literature!). For instance, the heroine despises cell phones because she doesn't like people calling her while she's browsing in libraries, or the hero's magical powers interfere with technology. The third is to have the character use the cell phone, but it isn't any help - he gets voicemail when being attacked by a zombie, or she doesn't have the phone number she needs.

No, wait, there's a fourth option: no cell phones at all. But that's a worldbuilding decision that will have a whole host of subsidiary effects.

Blackadder Goes Forth

Rather than summarize the British dark comedy series Blackadder Goes Forth for those who've never seen the series, I'll provide a link to the detailed Wikipedia page. It's set on the Western Front in 1917, and starred Rowan Atkinson. A comedy set in the trenches? Why, yes. It does work.

Fans of the American television show House, M.D. should note that its star, Hugh Laurie, played Lieutenant George in Blackadder Goes Forth.

I was already interested in World War One (probably from reading too many Peter Winsey mysteries) when this series aired, but the events explored and parodied in this show cemented my interest, and three or four years later I began to research the period seriously.

Every episode criticized the British High Command's methods of pursuing the war; other episodes addressed the limited lifespans of military airplane pilots, the desperate lengths to which soldiers would go for entertainment, and bizarre plans for escaping the trenches from which, even in the final episode, there was no real escape. Throughout, there's a strong message of peace, and despite the dark events, that's what makes me continue to enjoy it.

Melchett: Field Marshal Haig has formulated a brilliant new tactical plan to ensure final victory in the field.
Blackadder: Ah. Would this brilliant plan involve us climbing out of our trenches and walking very slowly towards the enemy?
Captain Darling: How could you possibly know that, Blackadder? It's classified information!
Blackadder: It's the same plan that we used last time and the seventeen times before that.
Melchett: Exactly! And that is what is so brilliant about it! It will catch the watchful Hun totally off guard! Doing precisely what we've done eighteen times before is exactly the last thing they'll expect us to do this time! There is, however, one small problem.
Blackadder: That everyone always gets slaughtered in the first ten seconds.
Melchett: That's right. And Field Marshal Haig is worried this may be depressing the men a tad. So he's looking for a way to cheer them up.
Blackadder: Well, his resignation and suicide seems the obvious choice.
Melchett: Hmm, interesting thought. Make a note of it, Darling.

--"Captain Cook"


[Blackadder is informed that a German spy is stealing battle plans]
General Melchett: You look surprised, Blackadder.
Captain Blackadder: I certainly am, sir. I didn't realise we had any battle plans.
General Melchett: Well, of course we have! How else do you think the battles are directed?
Captain Blackadder: Our battles are directed, sir?
General Melchett: Well, of course they are, Blackadder, directed according to the Grand Plan.
Captain Blackadder: Would that be the plan to continue with total slaughter until everyone's dead except Field Marshal Haig, Lady Haig and their tortoise, Alan?
General Melchett: Great Scott! Even you know it!

--"General Hospital"


Black Adder IV: Goes Forth

Have His Carcase - Peter Wimsey on tv

I'm guestblogging today over at Crista McHugh's blog, on "Take All Chances."

Have His Carcase stars Edward Petherbridge as Peter Wimsey. The production is notable, for me, for the excellence of the sexual tension portrayed by Petherbridge and Harriet Walter, who plays Harriet Vane. Some of it arises from the book, most importantly their big fight, which can be summed up as "saving a woman from the gallows can put a big damper of your hopes of getting matrimonially laid." That scene in this adaptation is splendidly acted, especially by Petherbridge, who ranges from hurt to rage to a dreadful, sad weariness in less than five minutes. For that scene alone, this DVD is worth it.

There is demonstration of how Peter feels about Harriet which is mostly skimmed over or ignored in the novel; in the television adaptation, you see him touch her, more than once, but always in circumscribed ways. They dance in the novel, but the actors show desperation in the way Harriet pulls away from Peter before the dance is concluded. A lighthearted discussion of marriage proposals becomes less lighthearted, and Peter's joking hand on Harriet's knee attains new significance. In the final scene, Peter takes Harriet's hand and kisses her wrist, between glove and sleeve, a deeply sensual gesture that shows us all we need to know.

I think about how that kind of body language could be applied to prose; do those scenes affect me so deeply because I already had a visceral knowledge of the novels, or would they stand on their own? And would they be so meaningful if they'd been written out? Are there some things that really only work in the visual medium?

There are the usual minor changes to the novel. The only one that really disappointed me was riding the horse down the beach--Bunter replaces Peter, which may have been a matter of the actors' riding ability, or simply that the available stuntman had dark hair. So far as guest casting goes, Jeremy Sinden as Henry Weldon is wonderfully odious!

Book: Have His Carcase

DVD: Have His Carcase

Tomorrow's the launch of The Moonlight Mistress!

Strong Poison - Peter Wimsey on tv

The Edward Petherbridge adaptations of the Peter Wimsey novels follow the books less closely than the Ian Carmichael adaptations; there are still huge chunks of verbatim dialogue, but these later ones move scenes around a bit more freely, not really to the detriment of the story as seen on screen.

As far as casting goes, Harriet Walter makes a wonderful Harriet, even without a deep, husky voice and with bad makeup, neither of which is her fault. Ditto Edward Petherbridge, who is too old for the role but otherwise perfection in one of Wimsey's tailored suits. I could take or leave the actor who played Parker; he was good, but I didn't feel the warmth between Parker and Wimsey that I would've liked. Bunter, however, I adore. I can easily seeing Bunter being as young and cute as Richard Morant; otherwise, how did he charm all those housemaids throughout the books? The character must be close to 40 by Strong Poison (in Busman's Honeymoon, Peter mentions Bunter's "20 years service") but that didn't bother me as much as Peter looking ten years older than his supposed age. Perhaps because it's easy to imagine nothing ever changing Bunter.

A friend and I disagreed a bit on Petherbridge--she felt he doesn't do the "silly ass" act well enough, but I think that act is much less present in the Harriet books anyway. And with the more serious scenes, he's simply outstanding.

I think the adaptation of Strong Poison is worth watching for its own sake. It's a very static book--lots of courtroom scenes and sitting around--so some cutting for television was necessary, and really, they cut very little; the main thing I missed was Peter going to Charles Parker to ask him why he hadn't yet proposed to Mary. Freddy Arbuthnot's engagement was likewise cut. The bohemian party is considerably smaller and less raucous; they made up for this by having one of the women characters be extremely butch (as she is not in the novel, unless it's so subtle I never caught it; she might be gay, but I don't think she wore men's suits). Scenes are slightly rearranged so that we are reminded throughout of Harriet in prison. There's a slight but effective change in the ending: instead of Harriet looking for Peter to thank him and finding he's driven off, he waits for her in the corridor outside the courtroom; she sees him, but turns and walks away without speaking. Same result, more dramatic visual.

Bill the lockpick made it in, and Miss Murchison, who blossoms before our eyes, and Miss Climpson's seance. The actor who played Boyes in flashback had a really sexy voice.

All of the flaws were redeemed by the dialogues between Peter and Harriet in the prison. The camera work is very clever; at a couple of really intense moments, we see Harriet's face as she reacts to something Peter has said, but only the back of his head, so his expression is hidden. Carefully chosen moments, I would bet money. I could feel the energy between them.

Book: Strong Poison

Gaudy Night - Peter Wimsey on tv

The most recent Wimsey series, so far as I know (shown in America on PBS' "Mystery"), starred Edward Petherbridge and Harriet Walter. It includes Strong Poison, Have His Carcase, and Gaudy Night. I'll start with the last one because it's my least favorite.

I first saw the Gaudy Night adaptation when it aired in the United States for the first time. I remember being bitterly disappointed, because the bits that did make it into the screenplay were performed so exquisitely by the actors. But the bits that didn't nearly make me scream, and do make me pull the book off the shelf to read them before I can rest. (No, I don't have to search for those scenes within the novel...I just go from one to the next, neat as clockwork...sigh.) I will never understand why anyone could think Gaudy Night could be adapted in three episodes, when it is the richest novel of the whole series.

The screenplay uses whole chunks of verbatim dialogue from the novel, yet missing are most of my favorite things. The romance was sacrificed in favor of the mystery; there was method in their madness; but the little bits of romance they left in were just that much more lonely.

The dog collar was taken out, and the ivory chessmen. Viscount St. George and Reggie Pomfret make no appearance. Harriet spends no time working on Miss Lydgate's book, so far as I could tell. Jukes is gone completely, though Peter and Padgett's war stories are replaced by a tiny scene between Padgett and Bunter. The dog collar was taken out, and the ivory chessmen. The dog collar was taken out, and the ivory chessmen. The dog collar was taken out, and the ivory chessmen. [ahem]

There is no Peter sleeping in the punt!!! [ahem, again] That, I could see them cutting, because all of the interesting stuff there is inside Harriet's head. That whole scene in the punt, in which Harriet realizes and accepts for good and all that she is physically attracted in Peter, is made for print, not for screen. In the novel, it's leisurely and completely satisfying; we are allowed to linger on things like the hair at the nape of his neck and his ear, which in a camera's eye would have been strange and off-putting close-ups. To give the director credit, the camera lingers on Peter reviewing Harriet's evidence book, and then her watching him, and then Peter looking up and their eyes meeting for a moment of realization. It's gone in seconds. The actors manage to convey the meaning, I think. But it's not the same.

Thinking more on it, I think there's no way to make a perfect movie of Gaudy Night. It's just too beautiful as a novel. There's too much there, internally and otherwise. So I'm waiting for the virtual reality sensaround version.

Murder Must Advertise - Peter Wimsey on tv

Dorothy Sayers' Murder Must Advertise was adapted for television in 1973 with Ian Carmichael as Peter Wimsey. Other notables guesting were Peter Bowles as Major Milligan, Fiona Walker as Miss Meteyard, John Hallam as Ingleby, Christopher Timothy as Willis, and Paul Darrow as Tallboy. Mark Eden and Rachel Herbert are wonderful as Charles and Mary Parker (i.e., Peter's sister, nicknamed Polly). I liked the affection in the scenes between Peter, his sister, and his brother-in-law.

I pulled out my copy of the book while watching parts three and four, and was able to follow right along. A lot of the dialogue was reproduced verbatim, though occasionally lines were assigned to different speakers. For example, in the book Peter has a long speech, and in the tv version Peter begins his speech, then Charles takes a couple of lines of it, then back to Peter, which is more fair to the actors, and more interesting to watch. All in all, I like the adaptation very much, despite my belief that Carmichael is too old for the role, and not the right physique (they put a belt on the Harlequin costume, and a cape, to make it a bit more concealing). Age aside, he's wonderful with the "silly ass" who morphs into the detective, who's not so silly at all.

I love the whole plotline of the detective playing one role as an "ordinary" person working in an advertising agency, plus another role as a mysterious swain to a possible villain, plus having to find time for himself and his own life, and seeing how all these overlap.

Some minor characters were trimmed or their roles doubled by others, but not to the story's detriment. Charles and Peter took the place of two policemen at one point, and Peter is the one who sees someone fall under a train (and the additional person who fell under the train doesn't appear at all). Peterkin, alas, does not appear, I think because the BBC avoided using child actors whenever possible, but his voice is heard offscreen, so the "Tears, idle tears" line is pretty much intact. The only thing lost is one small, adorable scene with Peter and Peterkin and his "naeroplane."

Two other cuts were the Whifflets campaign, which is reduced to one mention in passing (as if it happened, but offscreen) and the cricket match. I can see how the Beeb didn't want to shell out for a location shoot with a full cricket match and a lot of extras. Instead, Charles arrests "Mr. Bredon" at Pym's.

I truly, truly loved the scene in which Peter tells Mr. Tallboy to walk home and not look behind him. In the book, he has a line after Tallboy leaves, about "the place of execution." In the adaptation, it's visceral. The door closes; Peter turns slightly away from the camera, then clutches convulsively at the mantel. He turns his back to the camera and crumples. Wow.

When Charles arrives to tell him all the doperunners have been caught, Peter drops his glass of (alcohol, presumably) and it shatters. Charles is talking about how they got them all. Peter walks quickly over to the drinks tray, quickly pours himself a drink, downs it quickly. His end line about "don't feel much like celebrating" is the same as in the book. Wow again.

Book: Murder Must Advertise

An Unpleasantness at the Bellona Club - Peter Wimsey on tv

This adaptation of Dorothy Sayers' Peter Wimsey mystery An Unpleasantness at the Bellona Club features Derek Newark, whom I rather liked, as Bunter. He and Ian Carmichael as Peter have a wonderful scene as they prepare to begin questioning the denizens of the Bellona Club about the General's death; Newark manages to look quite offended when Ian Carmichael tells him he's too tidy to be disguised as a journalist, a comment that's borne out later on when we meet journalist Salcombe Hardy.

Marjorie Phelps, one of my favorite characters from the series, is present in this adaptation to great effect, played by Phyllida Law! (She's the mother of actresses Emma and Sophie Thompson.) Anna Cropper gave a nuanced performance as Ann Dorland. I love seeing the portrayal of women in non-traditional roles.

I haven't much else to say about this one. As usual with the Carmichael adaptations, it sticks fairly close to the actual novel. The main difference is that the tv version is more direct in pointing up the World War I experiences of George Fentiman and of Peter, and actually shows George wandering around in a "shell-shocked" fit. Also, a poppy in the lapel for Remembrance Day becomes an important plot point. When I first saw this on television, I was young enough to have very little knowledge of the First World War; I think seeing reading these books and viewing this series were among the things that piqued my interest in the period. It's one thing to read about George's problems with his stomach, another to understand that his physical troubles were caused by exposure to poison gas and realize the true horror of his situation.

Book: An Unpleasantness at the Bellona Club

The Nine Tailors - Peter Wimsey on tv

While I'm out of town for Thanksgiving, I thought I'd post my comments on various television adaptations of Dorothy Sayers' Peter Wimsey novels. It's as good a way as any to occupy myself while I wait for release day for The Moonlight Mistress!

Those novels are a major part of my fictional consciousness. I read them for the first time in the early 1980s, then again in the late 1980s with a much deeper appreciation. I still re-read them, particularly certain ones, every few years, just as I re-read Jane Austen's works and C.S. Forester's Hornblower books (and as I expect to do with Patrick O'Brian's Aubrey-Maturin books, once I've run out of new ones).

I have a collection of the Sayers adaptations on DVD, and periodically go back and watch, even though in all cases I prefer the books. What's relevant to my usual blog topics is I've learned some interesting lessons about different ways to present the same or similar material in a story depending on format, and different ways to think about narrative itself.

If you haven't read these classic mysteries, there are some spoilers in these posts.

The Nine Tailors is the oddest of the adaptations starring Ian Carmichael as Peter, because it strays farthest from the text. There's a lot of movement in the novel's dialogue, mostly breaking up long speeches among several characters in a scene, in ways that I don't think I'd notice were I less familiar with the books, or in some cases holding the book in my hand as I watch. There are also various small omissions and shifts to accomodate the medium and the budget. One event I really missed is Peter having to climb onto the roof of the church, but I could see how that would have been a challenge for the budget.

There's one big difference between this adaptation and the others. The Nine Tailors adaptation has some completely original material. An important element of the novel is the theft of the Wilbraham emeralds during World War One, which here is dramatized, taking about 25% of the total length. Carmichael, though a bit too old to be convincing as a callow young Peter, nevertheless carries it off with changes in his manner and speech, and the judicious addition of a moustache. The viewer is then dragged to the trenches with Peter and Bunter; Peter's traumatic experience is dramatized, as well as Bunter's subsequent arrival to be Peter's valet. At the same time, we see what happened to the villain Deacon, and how.

It's scripted; none of this business is shown in the novels at all; yet I confess I liked it. Better than I liked the rest of this adaptation, which I found rather dry. (Yes, I know there's a flood. Ahem.) The acting was all excellent, but for some reason, this particular adpatation didn't grab me like some of the others. Maybe I was just in a mood when I watched it. Maybe it's because I find large sections of the novel itself to be rather dull; by that point in the sequence, I want more of Harriet Vane and her glacial romance with Peter, and here I feel her lack acutely. Her absence in the novel is a presence, I think.

I did not feel the lack for all of the change-ringing neepery that fills the novel. It's interesting enough, but definitely would not translate well to the screen.

Fans of Blake's 7 will easily recognize the late David Jackson (Olag Gan) playing Jim Thody, the sailor brother of Will Thody. They may or may not spot Peter Tuddenham (voice of the computers Zen, Orac, and Slave) in Mr. Godfrey, who rings Batty Thomas; he's using one of his innumberable accents, but traces of his future characters can be heard by the keen of ear.

I'm really glad I bought this DVD when I did; it's difficult to find now.

Here's a link to the book: The Nine Tailors

Me and The Doctor

This post originally appeared at Amanda McIntyre's House of Muse Blog, 10/1/09.

My name is Victoria and I am a Dr. Who fan.

If you've never seen the show, it began on the BBC in 1963 and continued until 1989, with a series of different actors in the lead role. The show was revived on BBC One in 2005.

No, I'm not British. I never watched the show as a child, so I don't have the excuse of having grown up with it. I saw my first episode as a young teenager, at a science fiction convention, and promptly fell in love, even though I barely had any idea of what was going on in the story. It didn't matter, because that story was about an outsider. Outsider stories always get to me.

I'm an outsider. Really, we all are, in one way or another. But I was especially an outsider as a kid, because I liked to be alone and to make up stories. I could entertain myself for hours by telling myself stories. To other kids, that made me a little weird. So watching a show about the ultimate outsider, a character who's exiled from his entire planet, resonated powerfully with me. Even more so because the Doctor – you might refer to him as "Dr. Who," but he's never called that, it's not his name – the Doctor is an outsider who wins. Better still, he shares his winning with other outsiders, usually human companions who stand in for the audience and refract a sense of wonder.

I was obsessed with Dr. Who all throughout high school and college, and for some time after. I memorized swathes of data about all the episodes I'd seen and many I hadn't because they weren't available. I read about the show and went to absurd lengths to see new episodes, in the days when my family did not own a vcr. Basic elements of the series live in my bones and blood, part of my intellectual makeup, and can't help but influence what I write.

It wasn't just the Doctor I loved, it was his companions, the whole long string of them: how they found the Doctor, why they went with them, what they left behind, how they departed and why. A lot of what I know about characterization I learned from Dr. Who, especially how to create tension from a disparate cast of characters. And thematically, the show influenced me even more, or perhaps it only revealed to me one the major themes of my writing: outsiders making families with each other. Outsiders winning.

Love of LIFE, not just a tv detective show

I'm in mourning for Life, a television detective show starring Damian Lewis and Sarah Shahi. It went two seasons and has been cancelled.

I heard a lot about it from friends before I actually saw it; I wanted to see it myself as soon as I learned it 1) starred British actor Damian Lewis and had 2) Damian Lewis playing a cop (Charlie Crews) who'd spent twelve years in prison for murders he didn't commit. Not only an actor I liked, but a storyline with profound, undeserved angst. How delicious.

I got all that and more; Sarah Shahi as the angsty, ex-addict partner (Dani Reese) who constantly plays straight woman to Crews' wacky Zen-ish koans and love for fruit, and Alan Arkin as Crews' prison buddy (Ted Earley) who was convicted of insider trading and now handles Crews' enormous financial settlement for his false accusation. Arkin's portrayal is so engaging that I am not disturbed by his former crimes, which in real life would make me exceedingly angry. Shahi wowed me with her portrayal throughout.

Dani Reese is one of the best female characters I've seen on television in a long time. She is shown as flawed and vital, with a life that continues far beyond her role as Crews' partner. She's not only an excellent foil, but would have been an excellent protagonist in her own right.

In both seasons, the police captain is also interesting. In first season, the captain is a woman (played by Robin Weigert) who is the former partner of Reese's father, which leads to all sorts of complications, especially since her father might be implicated in Crews being framed. In the second season, the captain (Donal Logue) is a fish out of water character, transferred from New York City to Los Angeles, whose working methods conflict with those of Crews and Reese; and there are personality conflicts as well.

As for Ted, he's not just comic relief, but a character in his own right. Did he learn anything from prison? How has he changed since his wheeling and dealing days? How is he going about becoming a better man? How is that manifested through his friendship with Charlie? Is that friendship entirely a healthy one? (I still have no clue how someone in prison for insider training would end up in the same maximum security facility as an accused multiple-murderer, but I am overlooking that, the same tv-goggles way I overlook how Dr. Gregory House is still employed as a doctor.)

And all the while, there are threads of conspiracy that Crews is attempting to untangle without losing himself entirely to violence.

I love this show for the characterization and the acting, which is all wonderful. I'm still a bit dazzled by the way Lewis can demonstrate a man holding on to himself by his fingernails at the same time as he's spouting philosophy and picking up women on buses. It's clear that his sometimes fortune-cookie-like moments are really intended to distract himself from an emotional maelstrom. When he does achieve moments of Zen, it never lasts. It's a constant fight. The show provided me with all sorts of inspiration for new stories. And that, too, makes it a joy to watch.


Life: Season One

Life: Season Two.