Saturday, 3 December 2011

Stylish knitwear & storytelling

Not one but two examples of stylish knitwear
I've never been embarrassed to jump late onto a bandwagon (query, what on earth is a bandwagon? *note to self, google*) so for the last three weeks, whilst those smugly ahead of the curve have been debating the differences in knitwear, plot and subtitles (less swearing apparently) between the Killing 1 and 2 (Forbrydelsen for the real trendsetters just so we all know we are talking about the original Danish version and not the American remake), longsuffering-OH and I have been glued to the sofa watching Series 1.
We are addicted. Two episodes a night addicted. Only now we've caught up and last night had to make do with Grey's Anatomy instead, yes it rains in Seattle but otherwise it was the cappuccino froth to the bitterly refreshing expresso of Copenhagen's finest export.

Of course I usually write at night and can usually manage to write in front of the TV, raising my eyes from the screen occasionally to ask what's going on. Apparently this isn't at all annoying. I did try to write in front of a subtitled Italian crime drama once but, as it turns out, one term of basic conversational Italian ten years ago didn't equip me to follow the twists and turns of a Sicilian based drama. I still don't know who was killed or why. My Killing addiction has meant that my writing has pretty much ground to a halt over the last few weeks.

Troells Hartmann - look at the cheekbones!
Luckily I have managed to justify this brief hiatus to myself. I haven't been vegging out in front of the TV AT ALL, although it may look that way, nope, I have been researching. Although pretty much as far from romance writing as you can get - a teensy crush on Season One's Troells Hartmann added a certain extra entertainment value, why isn't he in Season 2, why??? - The Killing has been one of the best examples of plotting, character development, showing-not-telling I have ever seen, in book or TV form. No wonder nearly everyone who sees it has been rivetted and The Guardian has devoted acres of newsprint to everything from those famous jumpers to the quality of the subtitles. As a detective story, as a personal-growth story, as a study of a grieving family, as a political thriller, as a look at lives torn apart it works on every level. The end of each episode is particularly brilliant, each strand approaching some new danger, knowledge, crisis simultaneously leaving the viewer desperate for the next instalment.

My chosen genre may be very different but I still want my readers to have that same need to keep on reading, to find out what happens next. To supply that page turning quality. To make characters feel so real that a reader cares what happens to them. I have a long way to go, all I can do is watch and learn. Which is why tonight you'll find me, back on the sofa, watching S2. Tak!


2 comments:

Julia Broadbooks said...

So, can I tell my husband now that asking what is going on in the middle of his movie really isn't annoying?

Rose Red said...

Of course it's not annoying! It's multitasking...