Sunday, September 27, 2015

Sunday Snippet: Dodging Bullets


Sit back and get a little comfy. I'm going to blather on about my disappointment in the new season of Doctor Who, which feels almost sacrilegious, but necessary. Maybe if I purge myself, I'll enjoy the show more.

So… as mentioned before, I'm not a huge fan of Capaldi as the Doctor. This has nothing to do with his acting. I enjoy his work. But… here's the thing… I just can't get past the fact he's been two other characters besides the Doctor in the Whoverse—Caecilius in The Fires of Pompeii and John Frobisher in Torchwood: Children of Earth. But wait! What about Eve Myles? She played a character in Doctor Who before being in Torchwood. Why doesn't that bother me?

One simple reason. The character she played in The Unquiet Dead, Gwyneth, by rights, could have been an ancestor of Torchwood's Gwen, so… my brain has no problem wrapping around the idea. But Capaldi's characters? Not so much. Wanna know why?

Because THE DOCTOR doesn't have ancestors on earth. Even if I bought the idea Caecilius could be John Frobisher's ancestor, I can't buy the idea they're somehow related to the Doctor. EVER. It's just a big, fat NOPE.

Do I take this Whoverse stuff way too seriously? Oh, hell yes, I do. LOL But… I miss the continuity of the earlier Davies seasons. The sweeping emotional arcs we got in even a single episode. And Moffat is more than capable of writing that way. I mean Blink is one of the most emotional roller coaster episodes I've EVER watched on TV, so he's got the chops to connect with me on that emotional level… when he's not trying to be too quirky or clever or whatever the hell he's trying to be with the gimmicky shtick he's been throwing out lately, especially with the two opening episodes of this season. They were disjointed and messy and I'm honestly not sure what I was watching, but it's not the Doctor Who I love.

And no worries if anyone vehemently disagrees with me. I'm totally okay with the rest of the planet loving the Doctor as much as they always have. I'm just not quite there yet—maybe I never will be—but I'm hoping Moffat rises to the challenge of keeping me as a viewer.

Whew. I feel WAY better now. Thanks for letting me vent. LOL I think I'll rant a little more on my sister blog, or you know, copy this and post it there, too. :D

I could go on about having new episodes of Lost Girl to watch, but I'll save it for a later post.

Moving on… Tonight's post is from Dodging Bullets, a novella where my main characters have a long history together.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Sable and Gage live on the same street and survive their childhood by having each other's backs. When they grow up, they're still looking out for each other, but instead of ducking verbal barbs and flying objects, they're dodging bullets instead.

And a snippety peek…

Gage slammed out of the house and slumped into the chair on his front porch. His mom and dad were going at it again.
Betty screeched. "You're always going over there. She's got a grandparent who's perfectly capable of handling her."
Prescott spoke with a calm voice. "That girl has a name. Sable. And her grandmother asked me to take Sable to lunch occasionally. She just lost both of her parents, as you're well aware since you worked the scene. What harm can it do? Fourteen is hard enough without being orphaned the way she was."
Betty made a rude noise. "Maybe if her mother hadn't been strung out and driving close to ninety miles per hour, little Miss Sable wouldn't be an orphan."
Gage clenched his fists. His mom always said bitchy things about Sable and her mother. And, geez, when she got started on Sable's dad, she went off the deep end. Gage might only be fifteen, but he knew enough to get something had gone down between Betty and Ivan. He didn't know what, exactly, but something serious.
His dad defended his actions again. "Look, Betty, it's not a problem for me to spend a little time with Sable. She's a sweet kid who suffered a hard loss. And, hell, she lives across the street, is friends with the boys, and doesn't need anything from me but time."
Betty made another snide remark. "Well, of course, not. Ivan left her a fat life insurance policy. That girl will never know an honest day's work. She'll end up like Bianca, always chasing her next bottle or high—"
The thump of feet on the steps drew Gage's attention. Shit. Sable paused midway, her hand gripping the railing, her eyes filled with shock and sadness. Sable put the carryout bag she had in her free hand on the porch and tripped down the stairs, taking off down the block. Gage cursed his mother's nastiness, grabbed the bag, and shoved it inside the house, letting the door slam shut. He took off after Sable, following his gut instinct and heading to The Aardvark. Sable always went there when she didn't have anywhere else to go.
And right now, his house had so much toxic bullshit, he didn't want to be there.
He made the short walk to the store. When he entered, Bernie jerked his head toward the back room. Gage ducked around the counter and into the closed off space to find Sable hunched over the work table sorting t-shirts while sniffling.
He laid a hand on her shoulder and she tensed. "I'm sorry, Sable. My mom's a bitch sometimes."
She relaxed and choked out a laugh. Gage settled on the stool next to hers and grabbed a pile of the shirts. He started stacking his on the piles she'd already created. Sable continued to work on her grouping and the silence stretched out between them, but not in a bad way. Sable would talk when she wanted, not before.
When Sable does talk, Gage finally learns why his mom has so many issues with Sable's dad.

That's it for this week. Happy reading!


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