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TV
Oh, Downton Abbey, you are not going to leave a single lick of melo un-drama'd, are you? Not even one. I'm okay with that now that one particular storyline has been run into the ground. Bates and Matthew need to have a [spoiler]-off for the title of Most Needs A G&S Operetta Written About His Stiff Upper Lip And Excessive High-handed Moral Nobility. Up next, I presume we're going to have the influenza pandemic?
Oh, Merlin, thank you for dispensing with the Projectiles Mean I Care trope that succeeded the Humorous Coda Is Pastede On Yaye trope.
Oh, QI, you... were really off your game this past week. Though watching a bunch of people attempt ventriloquism was pretty amusing.
READING
I just finished the worst novel-length prose object I have ever fully read. It's the sort of thing that one might want to have on hand as proof that publishers do actually perform a valuable service of protecting readers from assault but its/it's mistakes, missing commas, gratuitous italics ("I'll go down the hall to borrow some coffee from missing persons"), and bizarre variations in capitalization (a local convenience store chain is rendered as Wawa on page 23 and WaWa on page 25.)
The prose object in question is titled Murder at the Mikvah and anyone who drives a lot in the Philadelphia area may have seen billboards for it along I-95. That's because the author's dad owns a billboard business and puts up his daughter's book ad whenever one is open. It's published by iUniverse, an outfit that clearly just fed the author's Word doc into a machine and pressed "Print & Bind."
The plot is distinguished by a lot of infodumps about Jewish religious practice, lashings of obvious misdirection and foreshadowing, and some heavy-handed psychology. I rather enjoyed the "Hey, Jews! Become more observant!" didacticism as a refreshing change from remembered "Hey, everybody! Recite this prayer and be Saved!" didacticism.
Next up: a mystery novel that will probably be bad but shouldn't have nearly as many typos: Jill Paton Walsh's The Attenbury Emeralds: her first attempt to write Lord Peter without even a few struts of DLS' prose to hold the thing up. A Presumption of Death was pretty dire so my hopes aren't high, but it was in at the library, so I shall attempt it. Further bulletins as events warrant.
Oh, Downton Abbey, you are not going to leave a single lick of melo un-drama'd, are you? Not even one. I'm okay with that now that one particular storyline has been run into the ground. Bates and Matthew need to have a [spoiler]-off for the title of Most Needs A G&S Operetta Written About His Stiff Upper Lip And Excessive High-handed Moral Nobility. Up next, I presume we're going to have the influenza pandemic?
Oh, Merlin, thank you for dispensing with the Projectiles Mean I Care trope that succeeded the Humorous Coda Is Pastede On Yaye trope.
Oh, QI, you... were really off your game this past week. Though watching a bunch of people attempt ventriloquism was pretty amusing.
READING
I just finished the worst novel-length prose object I have ever fully read. It's the sort of thing that one might want to have on hand as proof that publishers do actually perform a valuable service of protecting readers from assault but its/it's mistakes, missing commas, gratuitous italics ("I'll go down the hall to borrow some coffee from missing persons"), and bizarre variations in capitalization (a local convenience store chain is rendered as Wawa on page 23 and WaWa on page 25.)
The prose object in question is titled Murder at the Mikvah and anyone who drives a lot in the Philadelphia area may have seen billboards for it along I-95. That's because the author's dad owns a billboard business and puts up his daughter's book ad whenever one is open. It's published by iUniverse, an outfit that clearly just fed the author's Word doc into a machine and pressed "Print & Bind."
The plot is distinguished by a lot of infodumps about Jewish religious practice, lashings of obvious misdirection and foreshadowing, and some heavy-handed psychology. I rather enjoyed the "Hey, Jews! Become more observant!" didacticism as a refreshing change from remembered "Hey, everybody! Recite this prayer and be Saved!" didacticism.
Next up: a mystery novel that will probably be bad but shouldn't have nearly as many typos: Jill Paton Walsh's The Attenbury Emeralds: her first attempt to write Lord Peter without even a few struts of DLS' prose to hold the thing up. A Presumption of Death was pretty dire so my hopes aren't high, but it was in at the library, so I shall attempt it. Further bulletins as events warrant.