The Swipe Volume 3 Chapter 11
As we slide into May, all the hard work C and I have put in at Copse End over the last six months is starting to pay off. Most of the new beds are in, dug and planted. There is one big path up the whole length of the garden now from the back door to Gwen’s Den, dozens of stepping stones in a long undulating line. House Beast Millie approves, marching up and down her territory like the boss she is, big fluffy tail held high.
It’s growing season. Lots of the plants we started from seed in the new year are ready to harden off before their final destination. My trug of salad leaves and radishes is romping away, and the chard, fennel and spinach up top looks very promising. The apple and cherry trees are in bloom, all candy pink and floss-white.
Speaking of which, the annual confetti-fest from next door has arrived. A huge old apple tree looms over the top of the garden and creates giant puffballs of blossom. The windy weather shakes it all onto our patio. It looks like the aftermath of a particularly camp wedding.
Wherever you are, whenever you are, however you are, welcome to The Swipe.
Rob is reading…
A lot of Fantastic Four comics, particularly from the early 2000s—an era which I suspect will inform the direction in which Marvel’s First Family will be led as they enter the DCU. Some real bargains on Kindle for the Ultimate Fantastic Four run, if you’re interested.
Rob is watching…
Andor. Star Wars for grown-ups. Brilliantly nuanced and subtle performances from a cast rising to make the most of a chewy, complex script. Sure, it looks great, but that’s a given at this point for SWTV. Compared to the dry, wooden am-dram of The Acolyle or the 80s kids-movie pastiche of Skeleton Crew, this is leagues ahead. If you like spy stuff with deeply ambiguous characters, dive in.
Rob is listening…
We’re coming into that time of year. If I was serious about it, I’d have been posting Eurovision vids since January, but there’s no reason not to pop a few of the proper tunes up before the big Saturday, whether they make it to the final or not. Luxembourg’s entry is full of pep and vim, has a third act costume change and a real earworm of a tune. What more could you want?
Rob is eating…
Roast chicken. Spatchcocked, dry-brined in a seasoning mix which is past its best but still flavoursome, roasted for an hour or so on the kamado until golden and juicy. Served for a late Easter lunch with roasties, cabbage, leeks, carrots and gravy from the tray juices. That’s meal one.
The following day, stock from the carcass and reserved backbone formed the base of a chicken noodle soup which was warmly comforting.
Meal three was a creamy chicken Alfredo pasta, the stock and some sour cream combining for a luxurious mid-week dinner. The last of the meat went into sandwiches with a squirt of mayo and some lettuce on Thursday.
There’s still stock left over.
Rob’s Low-Key Obsession Of The Week…
Chairs In Space. Long-serving members of The Readership will remember my obsession with the decor details of filmed science-fiction. Mid-century design still informs a lot of set dressing. It just looks so damn future.
And don’t get me started on the re-issued Bodum tea cups as used by Jean-Luc Picard when he fancied a tea, Earl Grey, hot. I seriously had to restrain myself.
Everything about this reveal of a beautifully rebound edition of The Subtle Knife is utterly adorable. I’ll say no more. Just go and enjoy.
I honestly believe Sammy Davis Jr. was the greatest member of The Rat Pack. He had all the disadvantages of a black, one-eyed entertainer in the fifties. He took the bullying from Sinatra and his goodfellas with grace. Because he knew, as they did deep down, he was better than them—even with the metaphorical equivalent of one hand tied behind his back.
The co-creator of Tank Girl writes winningly on how he got his mojo back. Whatever it takes, however you do it, there is no substitute for words on a page. There’s a reason they call it writing.
There are side hustles and then there is a career built out of getting paid to wait in line. The UK is often portrayed as a nation of queues, but I think the Americans have us beat. Four hour lines for a doughnut? Thank you, no.
With that in mind, apparently people don’t choose their dining venue because of the food any more. It’s all about the decor, the ambience, the vibe. And the ‘Gramability of the setup, of course. I mean, if you can’t see it on your feed, were you ever really there in the first place?
Look, it’s easy to snark on people who will point at a single frame defect in a movie and declare it to be a huge mistake. But there’s something charming in the sheer bloodymindedness taken in this piece to track down the Force Ghost who pops up momentarily in one shot of Revenge Of The Sith. Sounds like more fun than the film itself.
More writing nerdery, I’m afraid, but this is useful stuff for genre writers who maybe spend too much time on the wrong sort of world-building. Get your character right and a lot of the heavy lifting is already done. Sometimes I’ve had a plot take a wild left turn because my hero or heroine simply wouldn’t work with the story I had laid out for them and went off-piste. The moment you realise you’re not quite in charge of events in your own book anymore is the electric jolt we all go looking for as writers.
Believable Characters In Unbelievable Circumstances
Ian Dunt lays out the pros and cons to becoming a ‘better person’ and dumping the vices of the past in favour of today’s virtues. Which is fine, as long as you accept those vices are part of the person you are now. We learn and grow through all our glorious mistakes.
A Love Song To The Filth We Left Behind
One last thing.
As fan-shot concert grabs go, this one ain’t bad. AC/DC in Dallas, 2025. If you want blood… you got it.
See you in seven, fellow travellers.
