Made another editing pass through the new short story this morning, and ended up right at about 2900 words at the end. Then I posted the opening paragraph on Tom Piccirilli’s Yay or Nay Thursday thread on Facebook and immediately saw how to trim a few more words. I think I’ll make one more pass through and send it in to the target market tomorrow or Saturday. Then–I swear–it’s time to get back at the novel. I plan to do a fair amount of diagramming and outlining before I commence to actual writing again, though. I need to wrangle this unwieldy behemoth into shape before I go running off in all directions again.
One of the trailers we saw before Date Night last weekend was for the new A-Team movie and, surprise of surprises, it actually looks like it might be pretty good. As much as I liked George Peppard in Banacek and other shows, I never really watched the A-Team. I’m not sure that I saw a single episode. But this looks like fun. Not as much fun as the new Iron Man film, but I could watch it in a pinch.
Two weeks from today, I’ll be in NYC for the Edgar Awards. I commented to my wife this morning that I wasn’t at all nervous before the Stoker Awards (except for about 30 seconds before our category was announced when I thought that maybe, just maybe, the unexpected would happen) but I’m starting to get nervous about the Edgars already. It’s been three whole months since the nominations were announced, during which time I mostly had myself convinced that I didn’t stand a chance. However, since it’s a juried award, I have no barometer for how things might go. With the Stokers, I knew the weight of the recommendation ratio: 8:1, which didn’t bode well. So, against my better judgment, I’ve allowed myself to think there may be a slight possibility of a win. Scant, true, but greater than 0, which was how I’d assessed my chance in Brighton!
It’s going to be a busy day. Arrive in NYC just after noon, go to the Ellery Queen cocktail party in the afternoon, then to the hotel for the nominee mixer followed by supper and the awards presentation. Up at the crack of dawn the next day to come back home. I’m hoping to squeeze in at least a short visit with my agent, too. We’ll see.
Criminal Minds was back in Texas last night. Their previous stint here was an episode set in a Houston that looks nothing like the one I’ve known for the past 20 years. West Texas is easier to pull off in a city so close to desert. It was a fairly brutal episode, with the cop of the week becoming one of many victims. The spiked head reminded me of my namesake’s fate in Michael Slade’s Death’s Door.
On Justified, Raylan is on a stakeout outside the house where a man wanted on an outstanding warrant is holed up. He and his partner are hoping to see something that will prove he’s actually in there. Raylan tells his boss that the man’s wife is stocking up on beer. “Get a warrant,” the boss says. “You can’t get a warrant based on beer consumption,” Raylan’s partner says. “How do you know?” Raylan adjusts his hat. “We tried.” I like this show a lot. Raylan is just too cool for words. I’m still waiting for something to take him down a peg or two, but through five episodes he’s da bomb. He pretends to be an itinerant landscaper to get closer to the house, ingratiating himself with the wife. After the husband is arrested, the wife says, “I knew I shouldn’t’a trusted you.” “Back yard looks good, though, doesn’t it?” he responds. Finally we get to see the oft-mentioned Arlo, Raylan’s estranged father, and the family home, complete with Raylan’s mother’s grave in the side yard and a headstone with Raylan’s date of birth on it. Creepy!
I’m dying to find out if JT is going to do the stupid thing the previews are leading us to believe on Survivor tonight.
