Way Down Yonder
This will be a brief update, and something of a teaser for next week.
As I write this on Sunday evening, May 17, Barb and I are about to visit the set of the Cinemax production of QUARRY, tomorrow. We’ll be visiting the set again on Tuesday. I hope to have some photos, but HBO is pretty careful on that front, so we’ll see. But I will report next time.
Interest in the TV series is being stoked by the efforts of Hard Case Crime, who are bringing out new editions (late this year) of the first five QUARRY novels, versions that will now be definitive, correcting problems that have existed since the very first ‘80s printings. When the books had to be offered by the sales force before photographs from the show were available for cover art, I suggested to editor Charles Ardai that we approach the great Bob McGinnis to provide paintings. See those paintings, and read more, right here.
As many of you know, we have lost another great, and another star of Hard Case Crime’s wonderful retro look: Glen Orbik. I never met Glen, but we communicated about various ideas for what became his magnificent cover of SEDUCTION OF THE INNOCENT. Read about more about this awful loss here.
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I am happy to report that I have completed the second book in the Caleb York saga, THE BIG SHOWDOWN, and was able to do revisions and corrections before leaving for New Orleans. I hate going on a trip, even a brief one, with only a chapter or two left to write on a novel. Really, I dislike traveling at all during the writing of a novel.
Barb and I arrived in New Orleans last night (Saturday), and have had a wonderful time here thus far, with the exception of a bizarre experience at a movie theater near the French Quarter. It’s a very upscale set-up with the dubious idea of serving meals and all sorts of cocktails and fancy this and that during the film. It’s a terrible notion even worse in execution – people are ordering food, and wait staff are taking orders in front of the screen, and instead of elegance, a kind of “everybody’s at home eating TV dinners” vibe is created, meaning even dumber, more intrusive reactions from the audience. It was very expensive, but we walked out anyway after about forty-five minutes, because the theater stank. Literally stank. A woman sitting next to me was eating pork sliders, even as she childishly reacted to every button the movie was pushing (“No!” “Oh no!”). The smell wafting off of her was only slightly worse than the ridiculously bad movie, FAR FROM THE MADDING CROWD. I’d never seen the original movie, much less read the Thomas Hardy novel (I’m more an Andy Hardy man), but Barb had seen the Julie Christie version, on HBO, though had come in a few minutes late and didn’t know the title. When she realized this sub-Harlequin novel romance was what we were subjecting ourselves to (not to mention the hummus and chips that were being eaten next to her), she began sadistically reporting to me every five minutes what ludicrous plot twist was coming next (“He’s going to get left at the altar,” “The sheep are going to get sick”). Incidentally, for all of you who like hummus, please understand that hummus was only invented to make tofu seem reasonable.
Next: set report!
M.A.C.
