Belated Sherlock Post

sixish was kind enough to show me Sherlock series 1 quite some time ago. I subsequently bought it and rewatched it, but life proved too busy for me to sit down and post on it. So here's some catch up.

I really like the show; I'm looking forward to series 2. I am not a huge Holmes fan in general and have been annoyed in recent years at the constant reinvention (usually in direction of gayer and sexier) that Holmes has been getting. It just seemed like enough was enough. So I was dubious about this show. But it's a good reboot. Moving story into the 21st century gave it the new life it needed to justify the rehash, yet it retains the core of what made Holmes famous: the brilliance and quirk and the friendship, of course, and I'm proud of it for pitching toward asexual. Great casting, great acting.

I do have some complaints though, and I'm going to harp on two--

( Both Issues Relating to Women--with Spoilers )

The Dying Cycle, Ch. 1, Original Work

This is an original science-fantasy novel, set in the same universe as my novel, Perdita, and my in-process film, The Hour before Morning. I do hope someone will take a chance and read a bit despite its not being fic.

Summary/Teaser: Erik had no memory of his life before awaking five years ago in a dream called America. Now a man from another planet, who claims to be from his past, is telling him it isn't a dream at all. (M/M here and there.) Also on AO3

Many thanks to louderandlouder for massive, massive beta work. Thanks, too, to sixish for giving me a fresh reader's insights, and thanks to my in-person writer's group for more fresh (and men's!) insights.

There is/will be quoting of copyrighted texts in this work. This chapter references Dune, Babylon 5, and the 1985 Star Trek novel, The Final Frontier. I disclaim ownership, give credit, and do not profit.


The Dying Cycle

Chapter 1: The Man from Another Dream

Again, he awoke or became aware of himself awake. Again, he'd lost his name. He'd had many once, when there had been ones to name him, but long ago he'd shed those names behind the misty veil.

The same scentless wind blew off the ocean; the same gray clouds swept high. Long ago, the air had been filled with creatures, black wings and claws and bulk; he couldn't remember their shape. Long ago, he had subdued them, or they had slipped into hibernation. Behind him, he knew, lay skeletons, and so he faced the wind. Behind him, a ghost passed, like a moth's white flapping just beyond his feet.

Talya? His depths disgorged the name and an after-glimpse of black-reed hair and bloodless skin.

A hand almost touched his shoulder, then was gone, and Matt said (again), "I hope you realize it's your fault that I've lost her."

I'm so tired of this, he thought.

Then he woke to the other dream.

( Read more... )