Saturday, April 30, 2011

After The Wedding: The Ghost Of The Mad Duchess In Westminster Abbey Versus The Exorcists

And so it's done. The Royal Wedding went off without a hitch. No tripping down the aisle, no exes coming out of nowhere speaking up in objection, no paparazzi managing to sneak in the back door, and no sign of Sarah Ferguson crashing the party with a few Somali pirate warlords in attendance. Just one very typical thing: a wee bit of a problem getting that ring on the finger. It happens.

Rumor had it that Westminster Abbey had been the scene of an exorcism a couple of days before the wedding. I can now tell you that's the absolute truth. Anglican clergy did battle with the ghost of the mad Duchess of Windsor, to prevent her from making a scene. It seems Wallis Simpson still bears a grudge about her Eddie having to abdicate the throne back in the day.

Of course, after the wedding service was done and the guests had left the abbey, the clergyman in this clip went and did something unexpected. And very, very funny.

So, Prince William (or Wills, as some call him) is off the market. The world's most eligible bachelor falls to a new bearer. No, it's not Jack Black. He'd have to murder millions of other single men to get that title. Memo to Jack: maybe try cutting out the stoner slacker schtick. It's really annoying.

No, the title now belongs to Prince Harry, who seems to like looking over his shoulder at weddings and seeing the bride come down the aisle. What did he say to his brother? Some might say that he remarked, "Wait til you see that dress." Others might argue that he said, "Go for it, Wills." And I might suggest that he said, "Can I raise an objection just as a gag later on?"


Thursday, April 28, 2011

The Wedding Extravaganza Of The Epoch

And so the big day is finally upon us. As of this writing, in a little under twelve hours, Prince William will be marrying Kate Middleton, and the eyes of the world will be upon them.

Twelve hours of single life left for the both of them. A long, sleepless night, no doubt. Too late to back out of it now. Too late to just impulsively decide to elope.

Seeing as how William will one day be King of my home country (unless Harper manages to pull off his top secret plan to have himself crowned Emperor of North America, and no, that's not a joke), I thought I'd poke a little fun at the monarchy on the eve of the wedding. Oh, and by the way, I like the monarchy.

Of course the glaring eyes of the media will be there. In an ideal world, the Queen could have the dreck of the tabloid and entertainment reporters locked away in the Tower of London. They're a lower form of life then we regular homo sapiens, after all.

I'd even be willing to lend Inspector Lars Ulrich to the effort to take out the reporters. He hates them, you know, and he's not going to let a little thing like being a fictional character get in the way of kicking butt and taking names....

Without further ado, I give you... the Royal Family.



Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Secrets Revealed

Kidron Valley, Israel

Tomb of Abshalom, Kidron Valley


After a spell where I wasn't writing much in my solo work in progress (long story that I'll explain some other time), I've found my muse again, and have gotten back into the writing. From here on in, it's a matter of writing towards the end game, so to speak. What I've called the Very Bad Thing (no, I'm not telling) has happened, and the fallout has led to shots already being fired between opposing armies.

Where I've recently left off before the weekend was a scene that spanned three pages, at the end and beginning of two chapters, and it was a difficult scene to write. My main characters, along with a group of police officers, meet with a man in a hospital during a building crisis, a man who has information. He's also dying of cancer, and has a few weeks at most to live.

When I introduced the character early on, I knew I'd be bringing him back for just this purpose. He's held onto a secret for a long time, for what he honestly felt were the right reasons. Now, in the aftermath of a terrorist attack, he realizes that secret might well have something to do with how it was accomplished, and he wants to unburden himself to the authorities, to make it right. Call it what you will; a guilty conscience put to rest, though the man himself is guilty of nothing.

I knew as I started writing the sequence just what kind of information had to be conveyed in the scene. What made it difficult to write was another matter entirely. The patient is in pain, wanting to keep a clear mind so that he can tell the authorities what he knows. And so he's refraining from sedatives and painkillers, despite the pain it causes, until he can reveal his secret.

I wanted to write him and convey that pain. That meant clearly showing a man fighting against the disease in his body, trying to rally the failing strength to speak. And writing this character meant doing something that was difficult on a personal level. As I wrote the scene, I was reminded of my late brother, who passed away several years ago of cancer. It's actually the second time in the book I had that experience; an earlier character reminded me very much of him.

Now the scene is written, and my group of spies are armed with a very big piece of the puzzle they've been putting together. Where they go from here is a matter yet to come. I'm enjoying writing it though...