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Wide Boy Eddie and the wall of doom

So Wide Boy Eddie, who I think I like very much despite all his typical diamond geezer patter, arrives to put in the bathroom yesterday morning. I was in a fairly foul mood at having to get up at 8am when I'd been up until 3am the night before (although to be fair this is because I was reading rather disreputable fanfic, the love of which dare not speak its name *g*)

Does anyone else get to this point where they're not doing anything but they just don't want to go to sleep? Or is this just me? I meant to log off two hours ago, said goodnight to C and everything. But I don't want to go to sleep.

In other news, I cannot stop listening to Black Lab's "Keep Myself Awake".

The Anvil Of Dramatic Irony plummets towards my head.

Anyway, the fragrant and lovely Eddie calls me down from my deeply intelligent morning activity -- lying in bed half-asleep, actively encouraging a dream in which my hallway is twice the size it really is and Laurence Llewelyn Bowen is painting my floor in pink swirls -- and points to the wall.

"Seedat," he says, in the tone which all householders come to dread.

The wall, from which he has removed the uber-ugly avocado-coloured tiles is a horrid grey, ill colour. He pokes at it. A lump of what is meant to be cement crumbles off. It's like marshmallow. There's an eggy fug of drains and damp in the air. There's a worm INSIDE the wall.

It dawns on me that I am beyond buggered.

Long story short: I have to pay to get the wall replastered and the FUBARed plasterboard wall must be boarded over with plywood and painted with resin. The person who owned this house before me was a jackass. I have to give Wide Boy Eddie 415 quid in cash tomorrow. Ouch.

* * *

Someone made the most kind, lovely offer to help me out yesterday. Shame I can't take them up on it. Some people really are wonderful.

* * *

I am reading a really good thriller -- "Forty Words for Sorrow", Giles Blunt. Set in Quebec, about a smalltown killer, possibly bent hero with a wife in the madhouse, smart, sparky heroine. I'm about 120 pages in and I like the atmosphere and the characters.

If this book pulls a "Wire in the Blood" switcheroo, I shall be miffed. I loved 'Wire in the Blood"s twist because it was so audacious that it took my breath away but I don't want to see it again.

It also probably broke a million rules on POV but -- confession time -- I think all that fic insistence on rigid POV delineation as anything other than a very rough rule of thumb is specious bullshit, to which people cling in order to point at other people and feel superior. A million and one excellent books shift POV within sections, chapters, and even paragraphs. I'm not advocating ping-pong POV, but all this stuff where people point it out when it switches and get all sniffy is just bollocks.

Before you got into fic discussion did you notice persistent POV switches in books you read? Honestly, I'm interested. I didn't notice it hitherto, but I do now -- although it really doesn't bother me. I'm more annoyed that I notice it. I was wondering if this was something that was taught in schools as a "bad thing".

* * *
I think maybe I was talking arse about Bad Blood yesterday.

Eh. This often happens.

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Comments

cofax7
Jan. 15th, 2002 06:50 pm (UTC)
Humans are superior!
Heh.

You and I have hammered at this more than once. I don't think we're ever going to agree completely. Cause I *like* rules -- the give me structure.

Switching pov is fine -- but I generally do like to know whose brain I'm inhabiting. I don't think that that's too much to ask. There are people who can swap pov mid-paragraph (LeGuin, fr'instance) and I won't even notice. But I think you need to have a hell of a lot of control to pull that off, and you should be relatively consistent with it -- doing it as a stunt draws attention to it.

Now you make me want to pull out LeGuin's book and reread what she said about pov. Because I am probably talking out my arse.

... and today's snippet, I realize, could be read as either omniscient or a very loose 3rd-person. Huh.