You had plenty money 1922

just under 90%. Oh yes. I rule. Final act, closing in... Though, er, I'm still poking my brain to write the damn shipwreck bits.

Woke up this morning with a slight writer-wibble. I'm trying to figure out if my original characters are really samey and have the same dialogue patterns (for those who've read my originals, please be honest). I've been told I'm fairly decent at writing in-character dialogue for certain of my chosen fandom characters, but this could of course be entirely down to self-selection.

and sometime soon, I'll shut up about nano and go back to my usual angsting about fic that takes two years for me to actually produce. Mind you, in looking back through old nano data, found two bunnies that look rather interesting - the QAF valet fic and the 'Ianto Jones is seconded to Torchwood 3 a good while before Canary Wharf.' (him being reckoned a stooge of Yvonne Hartman, of course, and thus untrustworthy. The bunny is now far more interesting since we've since found out precisely how Ianto originally got his place at TW3 and got intro'd to his sister.)

OMG. Narnia fans? LOOK AT TODAY's XKCD. Try not to die laughing.

Didn't do too well last night. I was supposed to be starting the sex scene (word-count guzzler! idiocy!) but kept prevaricating and bulking out other bits instead. 1,000 words short of target, and just before falling asleep last night, started having the 'argh, I don't have enough plot to do the full 50k' wibbles. Morning, I gave the bunnies a thwack and pointed out that I'm nearly a fifth through and am nowhere near finished with act 1 of 4, possibly 5, and that's not including the shipwreck framing device.

Possibly didn't help that I kept being seduced by Harry Potter future aus. The satisfying kind about relationships and jobs and trying to cope with life and general fallout, that completely ignore the idiotic coda JKR wrote where everyone perpetuates the status quo. My only problem was the occasional mention of foodstuffs/things that you simply cannot get or aren't made in the UK. 'No-one would make that! Seriously, what the hell is that? ...You didn't just have an English character refer to zucchini. Cooked breakfast on a workday - don't make me laugh*.' A Britcheck, for the love of the FSM and Snape's L'Oreal contract. Is it so difficult?

*Cooked breakfast : not a usual feature of the average british kitchen on a weekday. Cereal or toast. Cooked breakfast is perfectly allowed on weekends, on holidar or if you're a builder/cab driver. We excel at cooked breakfast as a nation, it's just that the majority of the time if someone's eating it for breakfast they didn't get it cooked at home, they bought it.

Reading Elizabeth Gaskell's North and South. Partly in a challenge to self to see if I can make it through a classic C19th novel that I love and adore the adaptation of. (Dickens, I can't get past the first page without chucking it across the room in exasperation with his sodding bogged-down prose. Austen, I never seem to get past the first page without someone grabbing me, so have no idea.) It's definitely readable, though slow going.

However, the writers have definitely changed it quite a bit. Same basic plot so far, but most of the religious stuff (discussion and religiousness of various characters) is cut out. Beginning scenes in Helston that show what day-to-day life was like're completely scrapped due to being pretty much extraneous. In general it's far more streamlined. Lot less self-doubt/inner turmoil on behalf of Margaret, and it's made clearer much earlier that Mrs. Hale is really sick rather than just mildly depressed, and it's a pre-existing condition. Mr. Thornton? Far, far less physical. (that intro in the factory scene doesn't exist, and nor do any of the other inside the factory scenes, and you get very little general impression of Milton itself) Really somewhat peeved that the Higgins family (Bessy and Nicholas) are nowhere near as interesting in the book, and that Margaret's relationship with them and the workers is far more peripheral. Bessy's got bugger all character aside from being ill and dying and looking forward to the kingdom of heaven. Nicholas you only see in glimpses for the most part as a permanently angry overworked union man, but you don't get any sense of the union itself, and Margaret knows bugger all about the strike even coming. Waiting to see if Nicholas' character changes much now that Bessy's dead and the strike's all but over. Boucher's weakness is really peripheral. Interestingly, the female Thorntons and Dixon are identical to the book. Guess they're easier to translate to this day and age.

Somewhat of a weird experience. Most of the adaptations where I've read the book, I read the book *way* before the adaptation. (Jungle Book, Discworld, Skellig, LOTR, Harry Potter, Fight Club) Had the characters pretty firmly fixed in my head and was less irritated when they got changed/cut because the book was still there, and would be quite pleased if they went to the effort of expanding or making something make more sense (see Narnia films). Now I've got a case of '...this is somewhat disappointing'.

But anyway, TRAILER OF SQUEEEEEEEEEEEE : "Paul Bettany Kills God As Charles Darwin: New "Creation" Movie." http://yttwt.com/kug9v (added bonus of Jeremy Northam as a clergyman. Heather may need time in her bunk.)

The medals table keeps freaking me out. (aside from GB being third. Third. How the fuck is this possible? Sitting down sports and long-distance swimming, we salute thee) '...Kazakhstan are *where*?' and then you click and it turns out they specialise in certain things so even if they don't necessarily get golds, they always place. Kazakhstan specialises in weightlifting and Greco-Roman wrestling. Cuba specialises in Judo. Who knew? (Indonesia : Badminton badminton badminton. There's a surprise.)

The lacy white sundress has had the broderie anglaise edging put on. Before, it was a nice sundress. Now, it's 'hi, I'm trying to be cute and wholesome!' in a rather sickening way. Bleearrrrrgh. My mother thinks this is *funny*.

Experimenting with sun + lemon juice to lighten my hair at lunchtimes, seeing as we didn't have enough decent periods of sun at weekends this summer. And lemon juice works like cheap-ish hairspray - brush it enough, hair stays nicely in place due to the sugars with decent appearance, only disadvantage being slightly sticky. The fact that it smells nice is a bonus.

Clearly had a misspent childhood. Cannot write fights involving guns to save my life, it seems. Hand-to-hand or swords and knives and blunt objects, no problem. Action, Valiant, Battle, Eagle and Commando comics, you have failed me. FAILED. I spent a good portion of my childhood filching these off my brother and I still have problems writing a fight scene in Korea involving guns. Possibly the fact that all the literature (also filched off my brother) involving fight scenes I was reading during said formative years was Roman and British and Viking and early medieval/dark ages may have had something to do with this. Comics, you weren't wordy enough during your fight scenes. On the other hand, I could probably write an aerial dogfight since those had to have a lot of narration of the action. mingmerciless, I can see you sniggering back there. Stop it.

:sigh: trying to figure out if I can write the relevant snippets of the fight and just those, and make it work...

Keep looking at this fic and going 'how the fuck did I end up writing about Korea?' In other news, I want a sodding narnia lj newsletter, like a bunch of the other fandoms have, which gives you all the icon and fic and meta posts in one lovely list of links regularly. So you can see anything interesting but don't have to join all the communities that melt your brain. With this in mind, I really need to cut down my torchwood fic comms - the sheer amount of cross-posting and clogging up of flist is scary. (yeah, probably guilty...)

...augh. Was poking through the New Years' Resolutions on yuletide, saw the Billy Elliot story by sathinks and went 'oooo'. Read. it's not bad, it's just... So many details wrong. Maybe not that many and most wouldn't notice them, but just... they kept bopping me over the head. Like Michael not being used to crowds. Er, Newcastle? Durham? Not to mention the comment about the Tube - okay, the Metro doesn't get as crowded, but he would've been on it at least a few times if he lives *anywhere* in Northumberland, even if his village is closer to Durham rather'n Newcastle. a few phrases're wrong - some for the era, like 'partner' instead of 'girlfriend', some briticisms like 'apartment' vs. 'flat' that weren't all caught.

My other major facepalm is the whole bit about Swan Lake. Matthew Bourne's Swan Lake isn't Royal Ballet and never was. It debuted at Sadlers' Wells, which is *so* not Royal Ballet - they're based at the Royal Opera House, for starters. The whole point of it is that it was an entirely new take on it, it wasn't a cornerstone then - the classical Swan Lake is, and like most Matthew Bourne stuff, only holds a vague resemblance to the traditional story. Plus. The role is *not* called the Swan King. It's just 'The Swan / The Stranger'. Please stop. Stop now.

...Yes, I'lll go off and stop headdesking soon, honest.

:facepalm:

Sometimes? You should never tell people what you're writing. I posted on little_details asking about paperwork, border controls, the train times for the route... and so far there's been several comments. Only *two* of which have actually been about the query (it's also occasionally custom to specify which characters you're writing about if it's fanfic, since it does tend to help and stop the '...let me guess, Stargate, right?' comments). The rest of them have been 'oh my god you're writing Jack Harkness and Methos retrieving something Indiana Jones dropped out of a plane during WW2? That concept is made of so much WIN it's not true!'. Which, er, is very nice, but I posted there because I want some answers, not for moral support. Oh well. At least the two commenters (and celievamp) were useful. Got a book rec about the London-Lisbon journey detailed in Agent Zigzag.

Latest stuff to google : passports/permits in WW2, go through flickr for photos of Tiaret and Ghadamis and the surrounding countryside plus geography, look for stuff about Algiers' port and the train station, the *current* train route (with possible lonely planet-type reports) and times from Algiers -> Tunis (it's still only once a day, and considering British Rail times have changed very little since 1900 - especially the long distance - I can probably fudge it as similar), and hunt down the exact details about the war-era UK Secret Service.

For the last week I have been terribly smug about the fact that the rest of the department have been dying and dosed up to the gills on cough medicine and lemsip, and I'm the only healthy one. Famous last words; I came out with the cough this morning (the mild version) and scared the shit out of them. And it's clearly the 'impending cold' one, judging by the feel of the lungs. Bollocks.

Just watched The Merchant of Venice, Al Pacino 2004 version. Oh my god *stabbity*. Seriously, by the end I just want to stab pretty much every character except Shylock. And Antonio gets a bit of his just reward by the end, so not so much stabbity and actually, y'know, is not a self-involved selfish fuckwit like the rest of the cast.

Long-term readers of this lj will already know my feelings towards Jessica, Shylock's daughter who runs off with her dad's money. However, after seeing the play for a second time and concentrating a bit more on the words, (though they probably edited her part down a bit for film so she comes across as more sympathetic), I now want to stab the rest of the cast. Many times. The largest knives being reserved for Portia. The lads are... well, Bassanio's a using fuckwit who gets by on being pretty and living off whoever he's sleeping with's money, that's established in the first scene when he asks Antonio for money. (also known as 'Hi, I've got you wrapped round my little finger to the extent that I feel completely comfortable asking my lover for the money to marry someone who I completely admit I'm only marrying because she's gorgeous and loaded'). His mate's just laddish and full of himself. And *isn't* marrying for money.

Portia though... oh dear lord. First act : 'Hi, I'm clever, funny, and I know I'm gorgeous. Aren't I great?' Second act : Not content with having got Antonio off the hook from the pound of flesh, she proceeds to twist the knife. Again and again and again. Just to show how clever she is and how much she's read the law, and she does this with complete glee because she's pleased with how clever she's being. 'Right, now that we've established that you can't cut Antonio because you can't shed his blood, you can't have the money you're owed either instead. Oh, and half your goods go to Antonio because you're reneging on the deal. And the other half goes to the court. And did we mention your lands? And Antonio, you can add another sting... Ooo, you have to embrace Christianity and leave your community and all that. Sucks to be you.' Pause. 'And while I'm at it, hubby, in payment for saving your boyfriend, I want that ring I made you promise never to take off. Just to see if I can. And then when I get home, I'm going to ask to see the ring and then call you faithless and inconstant for giving up the ring which I blackmailed you into giving up.' :winning smile: 'Aren't I *great*?'

STABBITY.

Though, um, I seriously don't get the people who call this play anti-semitic. Er, no. The entire play is about how the rest of the cast and society are anti-semitic and the only person who's in the right is the Jew, and considering the 'pound of flesh' is a joke at first, then after his daughter fucks him over he gets a wee bit focussed on revenge. But note that legally he is still in the right. And still a better person than the rest of the main cast. The point being that anti-semitism is wrong, no matter how pretty and rich you are.

In other news, great acting, gorgeous film, wonderfully set mood and tone-wise. And the way there's no concept of private space at any time. Props to the director and cast for making all the speeches sound like conversation or quite natural rants. Even if Al Pacino's voice has always annoyed me.

poisoninjest, feel free to wade in at any time...

:deep breath: Now I'm going to watch Battlestar Galactica, where everyone at least knows they're fucked up.

Amazon just sent me an 'as you have shown interest in books by this author' email for this, which is about Shakespeare on film in the early 21st century. Book of essays, as far as I can tell. I previously bought the 'Shakespeare, Film and Fin de Siecle' essays book when desperately grabbing for anything on Shakespeare and film when writing dissertation for degree. In *2000*. Hello, Amazon, six years down the line mean owt to you? I seriously think I read/bought everything on Shakespeare and film available in book form at the time. (our library wasn't all that great at the searching for articles thing, since it was an art school, not a lit one) Me and dad scoured all of Hay on Wye and Amazon for anything you could get with a tenuous link. Most of my citations were still online essays and articles, though. (if you want to see my essay - which is so cut down due to word limit it skims everything and does nothing in depth - go to my site or Google Scholar and type in Henry V and film. Should've just focussed on one film rather than two.) I even own a copy of Michael MacLiammoir's Put Money in thy Purse on the money pit and clusterfuck that was Orson Welles' Othello. Don't think I did more than open the first few pages, though, as it didn't cover Olivier or Branagh.

Mind you, most of the books of essays? Reinforced my general opinion that books of essays in the artworld on theory or any suchlike are completely up their own arse. Seriously, you could hear the noises of disgust a mile away. And yes, I was stupid enough to describe one of the course books as 'complete bollocks' in front of my art theory tutor when asked for my opinion. (lovely man, great teacher, most of us would've done anything for him when he hesitantly broached the subject. See the Midsummer's Day six photography students tramped across Bodmin Moor in the driving wind and rain to photograph some drama students because he asked.) Being the incisive man he was, he then set me the task of writing a paper explaining myself on one of the essays in the book. So I proceeded to deconstruct one of the essays, tackle all the points and waffly language, and prove that it was complete bollocks. Handed it over and pointed out the two-word answer was still better.

I'll say this for them, their memory whatsit is *thorough*.

:sigh: read Maurice by E.M. Forster on recommendation from the tolkien_slash list as being a good novel for portraying gay relationships between two men. Apart from the fact that it's a fairly fast read, I was utterly misled. It's boring as hell, barely states anything, let alone the damn relationship with Alec the groundskeeper that Maurice actually leaves his whole normal life and society for. It doesn't even do a fade-to-black that most novels do, where you at least get the impression that something's going to happen. All right, so I'm probably a bigger better faster more product of this generation, but dammit, fucking Jane Austen states it less obliquely than this!

Besides, Maurice is a twit, Clive is a twit, and Alec barely makes an appearance. The only inkling you've got that they've done anything more than talking is when Maurice suddenly says 'yes, I've done everything with Alec, including giving him all my body, and I was sleeping with him the whole time I was staying at you place.' Christ, you could've at least alluded to it at the time... Fucking Jeeves and Wooster novels have more subtext than this, and you only have to see that if you choose to! Oh, and you know something? The Clive relationship/moping about Clive takes up at least a third of the book. Alec? Six bloody pages. I hope when they filmed it they got something out of it. I'm never reading E. M. Forster again, I can tell you that. I'd even read Hardy, at least that has some story.