In this issue: books of the months, into the blogosphere, TV and movies, and writing or waffling.
Books of the months
Since I skipped August, I get to post two favorite books this month, which is good since I’ve been reading quite a bit. I’m enjoying a lot of Ann Patchett before I read her latest, so the first is hers.
Bel Canto is from 2001 and it won the PEN/Faulkner Award for Fiction. Here’s my brief review from LibraryThing:
I also read a novel by another favorite, Julian Barnes, who has announced that the recently published Departure(s) will be his last book. There is courage in announcing one’s final book, and although he has talked about running out of ideas, I think it is possible to simply be done without running out of anything in particular.
In keeping with his announcement, I read Nothing to be Frightened Of: A Memoir from 2008. Partly a memoir, partly an extended argument with his brother over the meanings of death, it is beautifully written and a delight to read. It felt good to get to know Barnes better as he lives well past the decisions made here about how to think about dying.
Into the blogosphere
These days, my writing in the online world is typically divided into two layers. One is my author website, wherein I have my books detailed for any readers who might be interested. I also post copies of my newsletters there as pages.
The other layer, dearer to my heart, is my Lisahistory blog, where my posts may be about writing or they may not. Many are about history and historical research. Some may be political, and for many years most were very much caught up in the world of educational technology and pedagogy.
Accordingly, I have two lists of subscribers. If you are reading this in your email, you are on my MailerLite readers list, where I can carry 250 subscribers without paying. You got on it, perhaps, by downloading one of my free short stories, or joining a promotion at BookFunnel.
My Lisahistory blog has a separate subscription simply to be notified of new posts. My friends are here, and colleagues, people I’ve worked with for years, sometimes decades. But newbies are always welcome. The post announcements are sent out by Jetpack, a plugin for WordPress (my blogging platform). Interestingly, I now can also have only 250 people there without paying.
Recent posts on my blog:
- Impressions across the U.S. in which I detail some things I found unusual on a cross-country trip last month
- Why Supreme Court bashing misses the point is a rare political post about the court
- Decluttering, demarketing, designing, in which I resign from most of my book marketing
Some people prefer to know me as a blogger, others as an author, others as a person. My life is private and my work is public, which is how I like it.
TV and movies
The report this time about entertainment is not, I’m afraid, terribly joyful, with one exception.
Starting with the worst, I report on two tales I could not finish:
Nautilus (TV episodic, 2024)
It may have been the dialogue.
In fact, yes, it was the dialogue, lines that clearly belong in 2025 YouTube videos rather than in a 19th century Jules Verne setting. I think I made it a little over half an hour, when the explosions and adventure elements made it look like an Indiana Jones knockoff run by teenagers.
Hands of a Murderer (TV movie, 1990 – yes, I know we used to say that “TV movie” as a contradiction in terms)
It’s true that I’ll watch anything Sherlock Holmesian, and I’ll share some favorites. Basil Rathbone and Nigel Bruce (before WWII), Jeremy Brett and Edward Hardwicke, Benedict Cumberbatch — all are obvious choices.
Some less obvious would be Frank Langella in the stage production Sherlock Holmes: The Strange Case of Alice Faulkner (1981 – filmed for TV so yes, a TV movie, here happily linked to YouTube). Also Robert Downey Jr. (yes, but the production values were terrific), Ian Richardson, and Nicholas Rowe in Young Sherlock Holmes (1985).
But nothing prepared me for the depths of badness in Hands of a Murderer. After all, it stars Edward Woodward and John Hillerman. But I should have been warned when I discovered that Moriarty was played by Anthony Andrews, whose work I loved in Danger UXB (1979) and The Scarlet Pimpernel (1982) but really wasn’t up to such an evil character. Andrews can do many things, but he can’t seethe, and Moriarty must seethe, however subtly.
I really did try to get over the first five minutes, which Hillerman announces is the year 1900, then shows a public hanging. There were no public hangings in 1900; they’d been banned many years before this. But I did try, until the combination of poor writing, poor directing, and poor acting made it impossible.
The good news was Slow Horses. I haven’t had access to Apple TV, annoying because that means I sometimes can’t get my Dodger games till the next day. Then I bought a new Neo because my screen is dying on my MacBook, so I got three free months of Apple TV.
I shouldn’t like Slow Horses. There’s far too much lurid violence for me. Few would dare recommend that I watch it, and it’s true, I had to close my eyes for those nasty bits.
But the premise is brilliant: agents from MI5 who’ve made horrid mistakes continue their careers, such as they are, at the downtrodden Slough House. Led by a high-ranking mistake-maker, played brilliantly by Gary Oldman, Slough House operatives continue to try to make a difference in the spy world, often landing in hot water. It’s addictive.
Writing or waffling
I have done very little writing, but much thinking and talking about writing.
I led a workshop for writers entitled “Being There: Creating Immersive Environments through Research” at the Vista Library this month, which was a lot of fun. Met good people and got to talk some history and some literary adventures.
This Saturday you can find me at Write On, Oceanside! selling books in my booth, eating a sub sandwich, and chatting.
My next Rosie MacMahon cozy has stalled, probably because I did an outline and know exactly where it’s going. Pantsers should never do that — we write by the seat of our pants and if things get organized the life goes out of the story. Instead, I’ve been considering reviving some non-fiction, perhaps creatively, about H.G. Wells, and doing some research into Victorian pharmaceuticals. I refuse to believe that I am waffling about what to do.
OK, I’m waffling.
NB: There is no garden news this month, because the animals I love so much (possums, raccoons, squirrels) ate everything before the coyotes stopped by to eat some of them, so I’m growing flowers for winter instead.
Till next time, keep grousing!
