Day 19: Worrying about Harry

Last week, I worried about Harry. Now it’s Harry and the whole of London.

Based on reason, experience, and the fact that MI5 is neither science- nor speculative fiction, I presume London and the majority of its inhabitants will survive.

Harry I’m not sure about.

That is darned good writing.

~~~~~~~~~~

I wrote the Harry passage last night. I intended to post it last night. But I didn’t.

I would offer a legitimate reason for breaking my promise to post every day in November, but–

The truth is, I got bogged down.

After writing about Harry, I inserted an attractive divider (see ~~~ above) and addressed a second topic. I intended a series of brief observations connected only by their brilliance.

I never got to topic #3. In just minutes I saw that even brilliant observations can reek.

So I cut the part about Harry, saved it for another post, and continued writing about topic #2.

I wrote, deleted, wrote, deleted, wrote…

After a while, it seemed a good time to look for a photograph.

I used to post text only. But those posts reminded me of the websites about writing that cropped up back in the 90s: words, words, words, no graphics, just words all over the page. It was obvious they’d been designed by people who hadn’t become accustomed to reading graphics.

In other words, people like me. But now, a surfer of some sophistication, I like to throw in an image here and there.

So, interrupting the sequence of write-deletes, I went in pursuit of the perfect picture.

So many choices, none of them acceptable.

By the time the search ended, the clock had struck midnight. November 19 was gone.

After eighteen consecutive days of posting, I had slipped.

Worse yet, it wasn’t the first time. Day 18 was posted after midnight on Day 19. Day 17 was posted on Day 18. Day 16 was posted on Day 17.

I won’t belabor the point.

My only consolation is that, although I have not posted every single day, by the end of November 20, I will have put up twenty posts.

If I hurry.

~~~~~~~~~~

P.S. London is fine. Harry, however, is in a pickle.

~~~~~~~~~~

Image of Freemasons’ Hall, London courtesy of damo1977 via Flickr, under Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic license.

Freemasons’ Hall stands in for Thames House, home of MI5, in the TV series MI5 (Spooks).




Day 12: Ten more minutes

Harry Pearce is in trouble.

Big trouble.

And I’m sitting here, heart rate elevated, breath coming fast, as worried as if Harry were real.

Several months ago I discovered MI5. It’s running on the local PBS station. Programs from an early series air on Thursday nights at 9:00. Programs from a more recent series air on Friday nights at 10:00 and rerun Sundays at midnight.

I’m hooked. I watch them all.

The scripts are well-written, suspenseful, fast. They assume a modicum of intelligence on the part of the viewer.

And they’re unpredictable.

The writers kill their stars.

I’ve seen several go. One was dispatched just now.

I knew it was going to happen. A couple of months ago I read some plot summaries online.

I almost never read ahead, but in this case I’m glad I did. I was able to prepare myself. Knowing made things easier.

The thing is, I didn’t read far enough. I didn’t know Harry would be threatened.

If the writers did away with all the others, there’s no reason they should flinch at disposing of Harry.

So I don’t know what will happen.

And I care what happens.

Ten more minutes…