I received the 1080-page book last night. I opened the front door to speak with someone collecting signatures for a petition–a very perky young lady named Scarlett–and there it was, leaning up against the doorframe like a stack of bricks. The book is Under the Dome by Stephen King, and I have until the end of the weekend to 1) read it and 2) write 1000 words about it. I think I’ll be able to manage. Between 7:00 pm yesterday and 7:00 am today I managed 250 pages. I would say that this is King’s most expansive novel since Desperation. With the exception of the Dark Tower books, his Scribner novels have been fairly narrow in terms of the number of primary characters. This one is multi-viewpoint and it feels like we’re getting out of the house and into a wide open field with it. So far, so good.
I remember saying to myself that the two-part NCIS epsiode set mostly in LA last season felt like a pilot. Well, guess what? It was. NCIS Los Angeles will debut this fall. I’m not entirely sure of the wisdom of running the two shows back-to-back. CSI has managed to spread its three versions across the week. I’ll probably give the new kid a try, but if it’s too hip and slick, I’ll drop it in a NY/LA minute.
I finished episode three of season two of Ashes to Ashes last night (before the brick landed on the doorstop). Poor old Gene, threatened with transfer. To Plymouth, of all places. Is that necessarily bad? At least it sets the time clock, that critical element of suspense, ticking. If Gene doesn’t get to the bottom of all of this corruption before the time runs out, dot dot dot
