I was propositioned this weekend for a possible gig unlike anything I’ve done before. Still waiting on some of the details, so I can’t say anything at this point.
I’m about 600 words into a new short story, and I wrote reviews of The All-Girl Filling Station’s Last Reunion by Fannie Flagg and Hammett Unwritten by Owen Fitzstephen. The latter is a rather clever fictionalization of why Hammett stopped writing after The Thin Man, using the “fact” that The Maltese Falcon was based on one of Hammett’s real cases when he was with the Pinkertons. I thought at first the book was just a gimmick but I ended up really liking it. I especially enjoyed it when the “real life” version of Casper Gutman, the “Fat Man,” enters the story. I could hear Sydney Greenstreet uttering the dialog.
I finally found a way to upgrade my old perl-based message board (YaBB) into something my web hosting service didn’t have problems with (it’s called Vanilla). The problem with YaBB (other than the fact that it periodically stopped working for no obvious reason) is that it has a flat file structure, unlike most others which are database driven, which means converting is a royal pain. I tried various things on my own without success. Then I found a service (gConverter) that would do it for me. They don’t automate the process (if it even could be automated) but work very closely with the raw data to make sure the final product is a full port of the original content. I was very pleased with the results. The new board is here. I haven’t settled on a final theme yet, so I’m using the default at the moment. More concerned about adding all the plugins necessary to keep the spammers at bay. My word, but they’re a pesky and persistent lot.
I’ve watched two hockey games this year, the winter classic and the match between Boston and Chicago yesterday afternoon. Both ended in ties and in shoot-outs that were decided by the last shot. I’ve gotten out of the habit of watching hockey. My wife tells me I should get the CBC’s “Hockey Night in Canada” theme song for my ring tone. Hmmm. Maybe I should. I also watched the two NFL playoff games. It must be frustrating to be a quarterback stuck on the sidelines while the other team runs roughshod over you. Quarterbacks often bear the brunt of the blame for a loss, but if you can’t get onto the field, what can you do? I didn’t have a vested interest in either contest, but I was vaguely rooting for the Patriots and San Francisco. Good thing I’m not a betting man.
I’m about 500 pages into The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt. Compelling story. I have no idea where it’s going, even though the prologue puts the protagonist in Amsterdam, hiding out in a hotel while bad stuff (apparently) goes on back in the States.
I finished watching the Campion series from 1990, starring Peter Davison as an amateur sleuth. The series is derived from the Margery Allingham novels, and the stories are set in the 1920s and 1930s. He’s an amateur sleuth, Campion is an alias, and you never really find much about his past. He has a manservant named Lugg who is a former burglar who looks like he’s about to burst out of his livery. I liked The Last Detective better. This is a little like Downton Abbey meets Sherlock Holmes. There are only eight stories (2 one-hour episodes each) in total. Occasionally it feels like Doctor Who, with a new female companion each episode.
