I just finished an excellent book at lunch today, The Death You Deserve. Despite my rec, there's probably only a handful of you reading this who'd jones on it like I did. It's hard to describe. Dark without being dark, sort of the way Buffy is. Thick with brutality, but none of it gratuitous--in fact, the brutality is the very point of the story--and it's not rendered *funny* exactly, but painted with morbid black humor, a kind of dry edge. The main characters aren't by any means perfect parallels to Xander and Spike, but there are some resonances. You've got this snarky writer who gets himself into an ugly pickle and is rescued by an old friend, who is now a hired killer. They share a common bond, their interest in ghost stories, which are a running theme throughout the book. All the ghost-lit references add a lot, including a ten-best ghost stories list, and a lot of quotes from classic horror novels. Also, it's set in Britain.
Here's one of the quotes, set as a chapter header, from Mary Shelley's Frankenstein: "It is true, we shall be monsters, cut off from all the world; but on that account, we shall be more attached to one another." That doesn't reflect the style of the prose, which is contemporary, but it's a cool quote. There's also a passage where the two characters discuss the horror genre ("Suggested terrors work best"). And I wanted to quote several lengthier bits from the book that capture the strangeness of the relationship, but I'll just settle for this short quote because it would kill me to type it all:
It wasn't that Rawhead felt love for Billy, or even affection. Such emotions were quite beyond him. Imprisonment, betrayal and death had murdered his heart. What Billy awoke in him was a desire to protect. The thought of Billy Dye in danger made Rawhide tense, set his teeth on edge, charged him with an unfamiliar sense of urgency. Billy was part of him.That makes me think of how Spike might feel about Buffy, Dawn, or--in my AU worldview--Xander. If I'm being a realist, that is, and not a romantic.
I wish I'd bought potato chips at the supermarket.
I reached a nadir in vehicular functionality tonight. Driving a car that can only go about a mile before stalling, with no insurance, with expired tags and expired AAA coverage, a month past my oil-change date, on a partial flat.
I have the updated tags. But they're buried in old mail somewhere. It's all kind of moot, though. When emissions testing comes around in April, my car won't even be able to make it to the nearest emissions testing station. I'm going to have to figure out something before then.
But my friend A. just got a new car! And I'm excited for her. *g* She also gave me Godiva chocolates today, so she gets smooches.
I can't decide if I want to try to write tonight or go back through old LJ posts and index them in memories. Or just sit here and fuck around. At some point though, I need to eat chicken.