I Was Halfway Crucified

Watched the rest of Two Towers; things aren't as dire as they looked. The big battle scene remains wonderful, and some of the additions actually added some nice texture. But overall the movie feels flabby and poorly conceived this time around. Maybe the commentaries will explain everything.

Quite a ways into the Secret Thing at this point--maybe even a quarter of the way there? Close to a third? But it's getting to be like pulling teeth. Everything's getting to be like pulling teeth these days; I even had to fumfker around for ten minutes before I could bring myself to write this entry. This is distressing.

Talked to my buddy John about this the other day--John, who is working on Secret Thing #2 with me (and probably doesn't know what he's in for). I think the problem for most writers is that they can't find their level. They think they're better than they are, and they end up writing stories whose eyes are bigger than their stomachs. I think I could write decent trashy sci-fi, but every time I start typing I start cramming in modern society, God and Man, the improbability of grace...etc. etc. until it squeezes out the spaceships and Destruct-O-Bots and everything else I keep insisting you need to put into sci-fi stories.

A toughie. Plus Evelyn is going to give me nightmares. He has a talent for that: He writes wonderfully comic sendups of upper-class life that end with chillingly cruel ironic twists. I haven't been able to get the ending of "Black Mischief" out of my head, and it's been months. Just finished "A Handful of Dust," and it's even worse. At least he cheered up, a bit, with "Brideshead" et al. But that doesn't do me much good seven decades later on a Thursday night.

More at some point.

@ 11:36:00 PM,

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