What I'm Listening to: The Word is Murder by Anthony Horowitz

I just finished the audiobook version of Anthony Horowitz's The Word is Murder, read by Rory Kinnear. The narrator does a great job. He's a solid voice, especially for that of Hawthorne.

I enjoyed the story. I was hesitant because last year I had noped out of The Magpie Murders by the same author after about 1 minute of listening.

I did have to grit my teeth and bear with the author's megalomania (he's the main character of the story). It is a phenomena I see a lot in famous clever people (Stephen Fry and Mark Gatiss come to mind), they are clever, very clever, and do brilliant things, but damn if they don't want you to know their Cleverness at every step. I mean, I know he did Foyle's War and I loved the first three seasons of it. I've never heard of Alex Rider, though.

The plot hook, however, a woman plans her own funeral and then is murdered 6 hours later, is so hook-y that I just had to know who did it. And it is brilliant. All the clues are there. Red herrings. The lot.

But the other thing is after reading a lot of fic, I have a different perspective. It's fic. Brilliant, long, self-insert, cleverly-craft fic, but at the end of the day, it's just fic (I thought that about "A Study in Emerald", too; if that wins a Hugo then AO3 definitely deserves a Hugo) and there are plenty of lovely people on the internet who crank that stuff out for free every day. And they don't have agents or meetings with Steven Spielberg that they feel the compelling urge to name-drop over and over and over. It's like if there was a guy with a great story and an equally great ego that needs public stroking by strangers.

Still, it's a great story told in a great voice.

Advent Drabble: Jeeves & Wooster: Christmas Baby

I still don't know if it was intentional or not, but the prompt picture for the adventdrabbles Day 22 was a blonde, topless, anime girl with large breasts and the word prompt was 'Christmas baby.'

“Sir!” Jeeves set his improving book aside and got to his feet.

“At ease, soldier. My return’s much earlier than anticipated. The Drones’ Yuletide pantomime took on an entirely different tone when Barmy Phipps showed up with the Christmas baby. Young, blonde, waifish, and half nude.”

“Most surprising, sir.”

“Yes, apparently, the instructions to ‘bring a doll’ weren’t specific enough. Anyway, in short order, I was yearning for the crackling fire of home and…”

“A good book, sir?”

“You read the book. I’ll fix us a couple of brandy and sodas.”

“As you wish, sir. Happy Christmas.”

“Happy Christmas, Jeeves.”

Jólabókaflóðið

I observe the brilliant Icelandic tradition of eating chocolate and reading books in bed in the evening on Christmas Eve, Jólabókaflóðið. And extra festive provisions this year have been made possible through the kindness of online friends.

Advent Drabble: Jeeves & Wooster: Letter Opening: Gen

Prompt: Santa opening/reading letters.

“…you know who also has to deal with letter-opening, Jeeves?”

“No, sir.”

“Santa Claus. Not our Father Christmas or Saint Nicholas, you know, the Time Square fellow in the red suit. He opens heaps of letters from blighted offspring around the globe.”

“True, sir. You’ve not yet opened Mrs. Gregson’s missive.”

“Aunt Agatha wants the pride of the Wooster in a pair of sponge bag trousers for Christmas. No, let it simmer a while longer. Better yet, why don’t you Sherlock Holmes it?”

“Sir?”

“Skewer it to the mantelpiece!”

Jeeves frowned. “Might I just lay something heavy on it, sir?”