tempestsarekind: (bored history boys)
Quite some time ago, I read this blog post about dreamcasting Good Omens, if a TV version of it should ever actually come to pass:

http://www.tor.com/blogs/2012/05/the-two-southern-nancys-casting-crowley-and-aziraphale-for-good-omens

At the time I had two reactions: 1) amusement that every pick for Aziraphale had been on Doctor Who; and 2) a sudden need for a TV show in which Russell Tovey plays an angel.

I just finished rereading Good Omens, and this post came to mind. I agree that he's probably too young for Aziraphale, but...can't you picture him as an angel, anyway? An earthbound angel, sarcastic and tightly wound and touchingly, tremblingly brave; exasperated and in love with humanity in equal measure? Yes, okay, I know - a lot of that is just George from Being Human with wings, but that is partly my point: he'd be so good at it.

(I never did watch his last season of Being Human. I got enough of a sense from the internet, without reading any real spoilers, that it was not something I wanted to see, given that I had signed on to the show for "snarky supernatural flatmates" and not "an all-the-bad-things buffet.")
tempestsarekind: (come along ponds)
1. I finished watching Orphan Black. So...clones, eh? Tatiana Maslany is just as good as everyone says she is at making you believe she's actually a bunch of different people, Cosima is probably my favorite, and I can't believe the second season doesn't start airing until April.

2. I had a weird dream about a father and son traveling through time. At one point they were on a boat, and the dad discovered the uniform of his favorite soccer player (it was a child's uniform, because the boy who would grow up to be the soccer player was still a child), and he tried to buy the uniform for 100 pounds. But the family wouldn't sell it for less than 200, because they didn't know why this man would want some grubby old boy's uniform, but it was clear that he did. When I woke up, I thought, "It's good that it didn't pan out; the currency would have been wrong, anyway."

3. I did *not* jump in and offer my opinion when a bookseller at the store was trying to convince a customer to read Good Omens. More specifically, I did not blurt out, "I just started rereading that two days ago!" Which was true, but not something that needed to be shared with random strangers. I also did not buy a copy of Amanda Vickery's Behind Closed Doors: At Home at Georgian England, just because it was remaindered and batting its, er, pages at me alluringly, because I have to read some of the history books I already own and stop buying more, and do not have room for the books I have. (I'm much more vulnerable to buying history books, because I know it takes me so long to get through them; I can get fiction from the library and actually finish it before it has to go back, but I often read a few chapters of a history book and then fail to come back to it for a while, when I get sidetracked by a need for narrative that history books don't usually fill.)
tempestsarekind: (death and dream)
I went to the bookstore today, for no real reason, and there were lots of copies of The Ocean at the End of the Lane on display - more than the last time; I think the book must have moved up a few spots on some bestseller list or other. Anyway, what this meant was that there were all these people asking about the book who clearly had no idea who Neil Gaiman was; I kept overhearing them as I was browsing. I was more entertained than I probably ought to have been by listening to one of the booksellers trying to explain Neil Gaiman to people. (Though out of the many ways I might have tried to describe American Gods, I don't think I would have started with "it's kind of about America's religious history...")
tempestsarekind: (ten is a bookworm)
So Neil Gaiman is on the cover of the July/August issue of Poets and Writers Magazine. I find this irrationally annoying, because normally P&W is emphatically uninterested in genre fiction. (Well, I suppose most of the writing magazines are, but The Writer and Writer's Digest will occasionally have a tone-deaf "everyone is writing about vampires/zombies/ghosts/etc right now; here's how you can do it too!" piece, and they list genre publishers.) Though maybe this is the start of a widening of focus? (I find the whole culture represented by P&W to be very frustrating - the culture of MFAs and short story magazines and the overwhelming majority of writing contests and fellowships - because genre basically doesn't exist. Not that it matters to me on a real, practical level, I suppose - I'm not writing anything, or looking for markets to publish the stuff I'm not writing - but I am a reader who gets annoyed by feeling like she's expected to apologize for her reading habits because genre books aren't "real," "important," "literary" books, and I've taken creative writing classes where the teachers straight-up refused to acknowledge the fantasy elements in my stories*, and if I *did* want to "get serious" about writing, most of the "serious" outlets and sources of support don't extend to genre fiction. If you already *are* Neil Gaiman, then fine, P&W apparently has time for you - but if you're a beginning writer who would like to have the same options for learning and help as someone who writes fiction about domestic infidelity or suburban tragedy, then you're kind of out of luck.)

I also did not manage to get a ticket to Gaiman's upcoming reading/signing here, alas, but I felt better about this when the staff member told me that people had been lined up outside the bookstore the night before; if they wanted tickets that badly, they deserve them! (And after all, I just wanted to go to listen in, not to get anything signed - getting books signed makes me feel like I can't read that copy anymore, anyway - or talk to him or ask any specific question. So I will live.) But I did pick up my copy of The Ocean at the End of the Lane, so there is that.


*Okay, technically that only happened once, but the other classes were not hospitable to fantasy, either.
tempestsarekind: (eleven wears a fez now)
Sorry, guys; all I have in the way of reaction posts today is, "Matt Smith, you unbelievably ridiculous thing. What even are you, because seriously."

Yup. That's it.
tempestsarekind: (TARDIS plus angels)
unexpected tears in my eyes while looking at a gif set from "The Doctor's Wife," oops

Also, I really want this sticker:
http://www.redbubble.com/people/nyuszi/works/8969935-a-mad-man-in-possession-of-a-blue-box?p=sticker

Obviously it is made just for me.
tempestsarekind: (viola reading)
In case you haven't come across this yet:
http://www.palgrave-journals.com/pmed/journal/v3/n1/plantanimalbook/index.html
(Click on "an Animal in Quires" in the reproduction.)

I'm still working my way through it--to be honest, figuring out how to make my way through it--but wow.

(Full disclosure: I totally first learned what a vegetable lamb was from the "Sunday Mourning" issue of Sandman. Who says comics aren't educational?)
tempestsarekind: (eleven and amy)
I'd forgotten that I put together a "year in review" post about things I loved in 2011, and then never posted it because the list seemed so short, and I wanted to see if anything else came to mind. It wasn't a fantastic year for falling in love with new things, I guess. I read 38 books, which I know is barely a sneeze to some of you speed-readers out there, but is a decent sum for me. And I quite enjoyed quite a few of them. 2011 was the year that I finally read A Room With a View (which I liked, but perhaps not as much as Howards End) and We Have Always Lived in the Castle; and I read the odd little book The Brontes Go to Woolworths, and I liked Connie Willis' Blackout and All Clear, and Cat Valente's Fairyland. But I didn't read or watch anything much new that I felt the need to buttonhole people about, and that's generally my standard for a good media year. I didn't have a due South this year, or a Tamsin. Still, what there is, come see. (I have been spending *way* too much time with As You Like It lately, seriously.)

Year in review 2011

--THE PONDS. I've found myself saying lately that "all of my feelings are Pond feelings," and it's perfectly true. Doctor Who is beloved to me generally, of course, but this year has especially belonged to Amy and Rory. I love that their relationship has developed in s6, that Amy is more comfortable showing tenderness to Rory, that they are a love story in every universe. And I love that their relationship with the Doctor has grown and changed, too, that their bonds have deepened and been tested, and that they remain a strange, wonderful family. (*Christmas special flail*)

--honorable mention to Matt Smith, of course, whose face still exists and therefore has delighted me all season. Special kudos for his double act in "The Almost People," which I'm pretty sure I referred to at the time as giddy-making. And oh, that scene with Alfie (aka Stormageddon) in "Closing Time"...I don't want always to have Beat Up on Ten Corner, and that isn't really even how I mean it. But Eleven faces his death with the ability to focus on the good, to remember what he's loved as well as - or more than - what he's lost, and I'm so grateful for that. It's become a commonplace to talk about the way that Matt can suddenly turn so old in scenes like that one, but I think it's partly to do with the way he manages to make one believe that he's actually capable of reflecting on hundreds of years of experiences - sometimes to be made weary by them, but more often to be grateful, even if that gratitude comes with a tearful edge.

--another honorable mention for "The Doctor's Wife." Because Neil Gaiman wrote a love letter to the TARDIS, and it was beautiful. Hello, TARDIS. It was so very nice to meet you.

--And just one more for "Good Night," one of the minisodes on the S6 DVDs (aka the one where Amy and Eleven go get timey-wimey ice cream). This encapsulated so much of what I love about the Moffat era so far: its insistence on the benevolence of time, even in the face of its tragedies, but a benevolence that stems from the way that people orient themselves toward others, and choose to care for each other, as much as from time itself. (I still love the fact that ultimately they don't go back in time to save Vincent van Gogh, but to befriend him. Even though they can't change his fate, they can change his life.) The Doctor can't fix Amy's life; he can't make time travel make any sense. But he can give her the gift of perspective, a little touch of reparation for a childhood sorrow that becomes an answer for her current dilemma. In the face of the inexplicable and the unfathomable, this Doctor puts his faith in the grace of the moment. "Cheer up. Have an ice cream."

--going to London this summer with my friend. Also, theater-stalking several favorite actors: David Tennant, Samuel Barnett and Jamie Parker, and Arthur Darvill.

--(this gets its own line) the Summer of Jamie. This began in London, watching him and Sam in R&G Are Dead, which was like magic (oh, my boys). Then his brilliant turn as Hal in 1 and 2H4, which made me feel so much for Hal for maybe the first time: he was so immediate and in the moment, really piecing together his princehood through the course of the plays. And it's no exaggeration to say that the knowledge that he's playing Henry in H5 has brightened my life so much over the last few months: I so want to know where that journey will have taken him.

--very honorable mention for Roger Allam, who made me enjoy Falstaff. I did not know such a thing was possible.

--Passenger by Lisa Hannigan. I discovered this CD during the lees of the year, and it's quirky and enveloping. (I also bought a copy for my high-school Spanish teacher, as a Christmas present.)

--The Hour. Despite a sad paucity of Jamie Parker, this series was engrossing, and I rather fell in love with the rich textures of cloth it put up on the screen. (so much tweed. <3) /shallow There's also the relationship between Bel and Freddie, which I loved: I don't even necessarily need them to get together romantically (though because I have seen television before, I'm pretty sure they will), so long as they remain so important to each other. They're comfortable together, in a way they can't be with anyone else - particularly Bel, who spends so much time protecting herself emotionally, for all that she's reckless sexually when it comes to Hector, wanting to play by the same rules as men, who can have affairs and not be thought the worse for it. With Freddie, she gets to be both playful and childlike, and motherly and nurturing - because it's also always clear that Freddie couldn't make it without her; he's completely fearless, and he also doesn't have enough sense to come in out of the rain: he's got no instinct for self-preservation, literal or social. They've grown up together: she's proud of how she's molded him, and exasperated by his stubborn obliviousness; he knows her intimate habits, and can be scathing and unfair when he thinks she's playing it safe. It's interesting to watch them both try to grow past that old relationship they share, and yet to continue to need to come back to it. And it occurs to me, incidentally, that the way I respond to their relationship, especially when compared to my response to Bel/Hector, is completely telling about my priorities: the relationship that's supposed to be hot-and-heavy, all passion first and foremost, never interests me like the ones where two people find a resting place or haven in each other.

--Luther s2. I didn't love it quite as much as s1 (needs more Alice!), but I would watch the "Luther does domestic and awkwardly protective" show all day, every day. He's so bad at caring for himself that it's startling to see that he knows the offhand, ordinary routine of caring for someone else - not just protecting someone else, because that's part of his job, but the daily activities of cooking breakfast and nagging someone to go to the job center. It makes me wonder about or imagine the possibility of some occluded history of kindness in his life: who took care of him, when he was young and needed it? Did anyone?

also

Jun. 9th, 2011 02:02 pm
tempestsarekind: (TARDIS plus angels)
I am hoping for some epic geekery:


Remarkably, I might be appearing on the Late Show With Craig Ferguson that same day [June 28]. I am very nervous about this. I've not been on a chat show since I did the Colbert Report two years ago, where we wound up talking about Lord of the Rings. It's a pity that there isn't something like a recently revived beloved-in-childhood British SF TV show that both Craig and I had in common...

http://journal.neilgaiman.com/2011/06/useful-things-mostly.html

Hee.

also

Jun. 9th, 2011 02:02 pm
tempestsarekind: (TARDIS plus angels)
I am hoping for some epic geekery:


Remarkably, I might be appearing on the Late Show With Craig Ferguson that same day [June 28]. I am very nervous about this. I've not been on a chat show since I did the Colbert Report two years ago, where we wound up talking about Lord of the Rings. It's a pity that there isn't something like a recently revived beloved-in-childhood British SF TV show that both Craig and I had in common...

http://journal.neilgaiman.com/2011/06/useful-things-mostly.html

Hee.
tempestsarekind: (amelia pond (ready for adventure))
Also, I'm a little bit in love with Suranne Jones now.

I don't know if there will be any meta about this one: I loved it, but it already kind of is meta, isn't it?
tempestsarekind: (amelia pond (ready for adventure))
Also, I'm a little bit in love with Suranne Jones now.

I don't know if there will be any meta about this one: I loved it, but it already kind of is meta, isn't it?

hee.

Jan. 2nd, 2011 11:14 pm
tempestsarekind: (elizabeth bennet is amused)
From Neil Gaiman's journal:

And also, please wish me luck with this short story I'm writing. I'm up to page 19 and nothing's happened yet. Right now, they're eating porridge. In my head, by this point in the story everyone was going to be terrified, and strange oogly things would be happening to all the villagers. Porridge!
http://journal.neilgaiman.com/2010/12/another-year.html

The fact that this sounds like practically every story I've ever tried to write ("Why are they eating again? Why is this entire chapter about apples? Why has nothing happened?") both amuses and heartens me.

hee.

Jan. 2nd, 2011 11:14 pm
tempestsarekind: (elizabeth bennet is amused)
From Neil Gaiman's journal:

And also, please wish me luck with this short story I'm writing. I'm up to page 19 and nothing's happened yet. Right now, they're eating porridge. In my head, by this point in the story everyone was going to be terrified, and strange oogly things would be happening to all the villagers. Porridge!
http://journal.neilgaiman.com/2010/12/another-year.html

The fact that this sounds like practically every story I've ever tried to write ("Why are they eating again? Why is this entire chapter about apples? Why has nothing happened?") both amuses and heartens me.

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