My darling boyfriend has a Netflix account. I decided I wanted to see the commentaries on the Firefly
episodes, so I had him order the DVDs. Keep in mind, I've been trying to get the guy to watch Firefly
for months - he was stalled around "The Train Job." I had to go visit my parents over the weekend, and he was bumming around the house, when my first two disks came. Bored, he sat down to watch, and went all the way through. And instead of waiting for the other disks to get here so he could watch those, he chose to go out and buy the set.
So now we have a Firefly
DVD set. Niftyness.
In other news, taking advantage of the Midwest's abundance of Half-Price Books stores, I purchased six sci-fi & fantasy novels for less than $17. Like manna, I tell you. I'm now in the middle of Tam Lin
, and am starting to aquire Pamela Dean's voice in my head and on paper. The situation is not as bad as speaking in Baroness Orzcy's over-romanticized and repetitive language, a situation that described the weekend, as I went through something approaching half of the Scarlet Pimpernel series. The books do have substance, but it's buried so far underneath everything else, and her descriptions of Marguerite make me want to smack her with my feminist clue-by-four. Ah, well. It's all in the name of research.
I think after I've exhausted myself with sci-fi/fantasy, I'll move onto Jacobeans and Revenge Tragedies, if only so that I can fully understand what lareinenoire
is talking about half of the time.
Novel progress is sadly nonexistent. Maybe after the coming weekend, when I shall ostensibly be a year older and maybe even somewhat wiser. Unlikely, but worth a shot. Same can be said for my planned essays - the Atlantis one is stuck right before "Poisoning the Well" due to time commitments, and the Batman one is stuck in research phase, as I'm trying to finish up the Pimpernel series, collect a set of graphic novels that could be considered Batman "canon" (and man, I really need to figure out this whole Crisis on Infinite Earths
thing, it's become clear enough that I can't ignore it outright). Comte de Monte-Cristo
is waiting for its reread, as that's less likely to be headache and more pleasure.
I'm also very, very amused that according to the DC Universe timeline, Bruce Wayne is currently 35 years old (as is Clark Kent). Dick and Babs have gotta be in thier twenties, she's had time to be a librarian, get shot, and get a law degree from Harvard. For that matter, where does Jason Todd fit in this very accelerated space?
I think I might have to break down and get a paid account for this journal. Too many fandoms for just three icons.