On this date in 1895, French film pioneers Auguste and Louis Lumière showed the first commercial movie at a Paris cafe.
Hard to believe 2009 is almost over. And all the news shows are doing segments about the past decade. Never mind that technically the decade didn’t start until 2001, thus doesn’t end until the end of 2010. The media is full of people who apparently can’t do math or read. Do they not do any kind of fact-checking these days?
Anyway. Onward. The only new thing on tonight is a new MythBusters. Woohoo! Love that show!
And I’ll be doing my best to settle back into a writing groove. Gotta kill some zombies!
Lady Angelica Quentin clears her throat. “My dear Miss Lennox, zombies are already dead.”
I frown at her. “Yes, thanks. I know that. I was using artistic license.”
“Sorry. Just making sure.” She settles down next to my desk. “Now, when are you going to, as they say nowadays, ‘hook me up’ with darling Sebastian?”
“Keep this up and maybe I won’t,” I reply.
She laughs, knowing full well I’ll do no such thing, and disappears back from whence she came.
“Bossy characters,” I mutter under my breath.
I just heard this song called Christmas Cookies by the Oak Ridge Boys. Very catchy little tune. I’d never heard it before.
For your amusement… our small town local newspaper had a little article/announcement this week about a party being held next week, if I recall correctly. The thing is, it was announced as a SURPRISE party and had the woman’s name, naturally, and picture!!! If she reads our paper, I bet she WAS surprised. LOL!
Yes, I always suspected I was a long-lost Empress.
A horoscope for today:
An exaggerated attachment to your personal space is not helping matters. Focus on making someone other than yourself happy. Ask a friend to visit your home in order to have him or her offer advice about organizing things.
That last part is something I really need. Though I’m not inviting anybody over tonight. It’s the two hour season finale of Doctor Who. That’s more important than getting organized. Even though I know I’m going be sobbing by the end. *sigh*
Everything else I watch on Fridays is either being pre-empted or is a rerun. So. I finished up reading my Private Eye book last night. I’m thinking it’s time to dig out How to Write Killer Fiction by Carolyn Wheat or The Weekend Novelist Writes a Mystery by Robert J. Ray & Jack Remick.
While watching the show on the History Channel last night about the Spear of Christ (which isn’t really accurate since it wasn’t His spear….) I got to thinking about my Relic Hunter Chick—
Excuse me? You know I hate being called that!
Don’t you hunt for relics, Claire?
Well… technically, I suppose. But I don’t do it to line my own pockets. Oh, I know I’m well paid, but I’m paid to return things to their proper owners. Not sell them to the highest bidder. You know that, too. You’re doing this just to piss me off, aren’t you?
Not true! “Relic Hunter” is just a lot easier to type than “Archaeologist”.
Hmm. I see your point. Okay. Carry on. Tony’s got some crazy scheme he wants me to look into anyway.
Thank you. Give Tony my love.
Anyway, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, the show last night gave me an idea for Claire & Tony. Of course, I guess I need to finish their first adventure together before I start thinking about another one….
“I think she’s forgotten about us,” Zack Morgan drawled. He leaned back in his chair and propped his boot-shod feet on the already battered desktop. He tossed back a shot of whiskey, then drew the six-shooter from its holster. “Maybe I could get her attention with this.”
Jessie frowned. “I know she’s joked about wishing somebody would shoot her and put her out of her misery, but I don’t think she really meant it.”
“Darlin’, I wasn’t going to shoot her. Just fire into the air to get her attention.”
“Oh. Well. In that case, fire away.” She reached for the bottle of whiskey. “And give that over. That rotgut will kill you one of these days.”
“I’ve had worse since my days in that Yankee prison camp.”
Jessie gave an unladylike snort. “I don’t doubt that. Personally, I’d almost kill for a Coke.” A speculative look came into her eyes. “Hmm. I wonder if I could materialize one?”
“You’re the wizard, darlin’. But if you can manage it, I think you should try lighting a fire under our biographer. She needs it worse than you need a Coke.”
“I heard that,” a voice said from On High. “Sorry it’s taking me so long to get back in the groove.” Tori gave them a smirk. “Look on the bright side. At least I haven’t abandoned you for other characters.”
“There is that,” Zack conceded. But he added rather plaintively, “However, I would like to escape the past, if you could set your mind to getting me—” He glanced at Jessie. “—us out of this mess.”
“Who knows? Tonight could be your lucky night.”
He muttered under his breath.
“What was that? I didn’t quite catch that.”
“He said he’d heard that before,” Jessie said, rolling her eyes.
They had a point, Tori admitted to herself. She’d said much the same thing many times before. Maybe it was time to actually deliver.
“Well, sitting here chewing the fat—and what a repulsive turn of phrase that is—with the two of you won’t get the job done. So let me get situated and I’ll hop to it.”
If she reads our paper, I bet she WAS surprised. LOL!
