Which is how I came to be wondering who this Jim fellow was and why he was being held so warmly, and how long Gene had been two timing Sam with this Jim chap anyway (I'd meant to type 'him', but missed). At least it wasn't Jip, because that would do my head in (Can you imagine it? Best not to).
I've cheered up a bit today, mainly because I was typing this morning (well, I'd lost over ten hours this week to tech probs, so I felt I should at least try and take back one hour). At least typing stuff up helps me try and make Sam less of a big girl's blouse than he appears as originally in the fic, though it's a hard sell. He's a bit of a soppy bastard, our Sam. Most of the stuff I write in the notebook though is dialogue heavy, as I'm mainly just jotting it down to try and catch the words as they fall, especially from Gene. He has a very distinctive sense of humour, and I have to be very precise and try not to use any anachronisms. Well, at least I try (and if I stuff up, well, it's all in Sam's head anyway, of course, and he's such an unreliable narrator, don't you know).
Poor Gene. Sam does not make his life easy (or mine).
Btw, I forgot to mention the minor Doctor Who connections to the screencaps I threw up over the weekend. Roses' mum was in the Rumpole episode with Simmo, and Roses' dad was of course in Soldier Soldier with Phil. Who shall ever rid me of this plague of Tylers...
I only just thought of it as I'm peeping at DW while waiting for some frankly enormous pdfs to upload. And I'm still smarting over the fact that I am now older than Doctor Who. Ouch. Stop laughing, it's not funny. Whimper.
Yesterday was screamingly awful. Yesterday was the sort of day that would send Jack Bauer scuttling back under the doona covers. Well, alright, not quite, but there I was, fluridden, alone, a little unhappy on the anniversary of a very unhappy death (tv characters can have great honking daddy issues but I am most assuredly not allowed to) and my lord and master wants this stuff up in 15 mins or less and whoops, my entire drive vanishes into a puff of nothingness. Okey dokey then. Took the oxymoronical "helpdesk" over two hours to find the backup and restore, and nobody is owning up to pressing the D key (because they know they'll be sans genitals if they do).
Neither my happiest hour nor finest moment as I did not handle the stress well. At least MircoManager came into her own. Normally the worst kind of nagging and nitpicking American sitcom mum, once she realised I was on the verge of tears, she got all mumsy with me, and I needed that, so that was good. I needed to be steered outdoors for lunch, as there was nowt I could do but fret anyway.
Went up to the MOS to see the early paintings by a convict. They're not the most breathtaking works, but they're decent enough, and as a historical snapshot of the budding colonies in the 1820s, priceless. The sketch of the farm where my old school now stands amused me most, followed by the prints of my hometown. At least the double spired church is still standing, for now, and still so very recogniseable. Everything else has been ploughed under the shopping mall. Used to be a cute town, is now just mall. All the lovely Victorian and Art Deco buildings were razed last year. Don't get me started.
It all put me half a day behind though, so I didn't get home until late. Had milk and a sandwich and watched the end of Phildelphia Story (thankfully not as yet remade with Jennifer Lopez and Will Smith), all of which turned out to be the cure for what ailed me (though I think the weep at the dark and mostly deserted bus stop helped too, and it was the distant keening wail of a lone piper somewhere that set me right off). Ended up writing scads of fic that changed the tone of the fic again, and was still up when the rain squalls started thrashing up against the walls. Bit of a bumpy night.
I finally managed to see The Reckoning on Tuesday night. It was one of those films that appealed to me, but I just never caught it, either due to geography or timing or both, but it was on Showtime on Tuesday night, and fie on those reviews. I loved it. Yes, okay, the plot was a little obvious, a little more clumsy and heavy handed than The Crucible, as the morality play was supposed to speak to the modern audience as much as the villagers, but it was a solid enough story, with flawed heroes and vile villains. It was beautifully, so very beautifully filmed. That's the main reason I've decided to try and source a copy on dvd. It's just lovely to watch. The DOP really went to town, and there are some gorgeous shots.
It also features a marvellous performance by Paul Bettany, and the scenes where he stands off against Matthew McFadyen and Vincent Cassel, well, whoo boy. That's my money slapped down on the counter right there. Hot stuff indeed. Definitely recommended if you like man candy, medieval dramas with suitably grubby peasants or beautiful photography.
Speaking of non candy, I did spot Simon Pegg as a particularly loony peasant in a brief, scenery chomping scene. Oh dear.
So that was fun. I liked it. It made me happy and I wrote a few pages, too.
"Sam, sociology paper later. Right now we have a nutter with a knife in a class full of kiddies. I don't care if he's feeling rejected and downtrodden. I want him disarmed and banged up. Now. You say you've done this sort of thing before so I'm relying on you not to fuck it up. Just focus, and give me ideas I can use."
"Like the best sort of ammunition to bring him down?" Sam threw back, angrily.
"There you go," Gene flashed him a shit eating grin. "On the case already."
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