Favorite Fictional Character ‐-- Stephen Neale

 

The first Ray Milland movie I ever saw was The Uninvited (1944), and it remains my favorite ghost story of all time—thanks in no small part to Milland’s mix of suave charm and awkward vulnerability. I love that film and his performance so much that I even featured his character, Roderick “Rick” Fitzgerald, in a previous Favorite Fictional Character post.

It was a good friend of mine, Yvette of In So Many Words, who first suggested I try Ministry of Fear (also 1944). As usual, she was right—I absolutely loved it. (And Yvette, if you’re reading this, I miss your classic mystery reviews. I hope you’ll come back to blogging, too.)

In Ministry of Fear, Milland plays Stephen Neale, a man just released from an asylum after serving two years for the mercy killing of his wife. Over the next hour and twenty-some minutes, poor Neale—through no fault of his own—finds himself tangled in a Nazi spy ring and attending one of the most hauntingly beautiful séance scenes ever filmed.

What amazes me is how Milland pulls it off. Like Rick, Neale carries himself with a sophisticated, debonair air, but underneath I see a fumbling, slightly insecure man doing his best to keep his head above water. He’s burdened with guilt over his wife’s death, and instead of easing back into life after confinement, he’s thrust into danger that would have had me giving up on the train. Honestly, I’d have tossed that cake right back at them the moment the fortune-teller demanded it. (If I intrigued you with that reference, I hope you watch the movie.)

Neale is a man whose instinct is always to do the right thing, even when it puts his life or freedom at risk. He’s quick on his feet, both physically and mentally. He’s protective of those he cares about and willing to sacrifice himself for a woman in distress, a cause he believes in, or a country he feels loyalty to. From the first time I met him on screen, I admired him—and maybe even started to fall for him a little. That feeling has only deepened with each rewatch.

Everyone in My Family Has Killed Someone by Benjamin Stevenson

 

Synopsis From The Dust Jacket:

Ernie Cunningham, crime fiction aficionado, is a reluctant guest at his family reunion. Family reunions aren't for everyone, of course. But Ern's part of a notorious crime family—and three years ago, he witnessed his brother kill a man and immediately turned him in to the police. Now Ern's brother is being released from prison and the family is gathering to welcome him home.

As if that weren't bad enough, the reunion is taking place at a remote mountain resort. The day before Ern's brother is set to arrive, a man's body is found frozen on the slopes. While most Cunninghams assume the man simply collapsed and died of hypothermia during the night, Ern's stepsister spots a strange detail—the man's airways are clogged with ash. He appears to have died by fire... in a pristine snowfield... without a single burn mark on him. 

The longer the body goes unidentified, the more overwhelmed the local policeman becomes, and the more Ern realizes it's up to him to find the murderer. Holmes, Christie, Chesterton: he's read then all. He knows what patterns to look for, what rules killers follow. And of course, he knows his own family. Every member of which, as he's told us from the start, has killed someone. 

I’ve sat here staring at my screen, willing the words for a perfect review of Everyone in My Family Has Killed Someone to appear—flowing effortlessly from my fingers. But the truth is, that perfect review isn’t in the cards for me. Instead, I’m left to write an imperfect one, feeling as though I’ll always owe both Ern and the author a heartfelt apology.

I don’t know why I can’t string together the just-right words to capture how much fun this book was. What I can say is that I adored spending time with Ern—getting to know his family, watching the way his mind works, and laughing at his sharp, dry humor. The entire story unfolds through his eyes, and as the bodies begin to pile up—six in total—his voice remains steady, witty, and endlessly engaging.

One thought has stuck with me as I’ve wrestled with what to say: Jessica Fletcher would have felt right at home in this story. It’s exactly the kind of mystery she could have sunk her teeth into—whether as the sleuth or as J.B. Fletcher, the author of such a twisted tale. And if you know me at all, you’ll know that’s the highest compliment I can give.

Favorite Fictional Character --- Florence Jean “Flo” Castleberry

 

I had a different character in mind for this week’s Favorite Fictional Character post, but he’ll have to wait. Today, I want to honor one of the most unforgettable TV characters of the mid-1970s and early 1980s. I'm honestly surprised I haven’t featured her before—she’s a true cultural icon. I'm also saddened to be writing about her now because her portrayer, Polly Holliday, has passed away at the age of 88.

Florence Jean “Flo” Castleberry was my favorite character on Alice. Flo was loud, sassy, and knew exactly who she was. She didn’t tolerate Mel’s sexist behavior and wasn’t afraid to call him out. She challenged his greed, stood up for what was right, and had a heart big enough to take Alice under her wing. She was the kind of mother figure many of us would have welcomed with open arms.

I can easily imagine myself walking into Mel’s Diner, sitting at a booth with a slightly dingy menu, and falling absolutely in love with this outspoken waitress who gave both sass and heart. I’d sit there for hours, listening to Flo, Alice, and even Vera talk about their lives, laughing at their banter and feeling like part of something special. I know I’d enjoy every moment Flo told Mel off with her signature “Kiss my grits!” or even a “When donkeys fly!” If I had the chance, I’d become a regular—despite Mel.

Flo wasn’t just a character—she was a force. And Polly Holliday brought her to life with such charisma, warmth, and grit that she remains unforgettable to this day.

R.I.P. Polly Holliday.

You’ll be missed.

Dragonwyck (1946)

 

Synopsis From Rotten Tomatoes:

For Miranda Wells (Gene Tierney), moving to New York to live in Dragonwyck Manor with her rich cousin Nicholas (Vincent Price), seems like a dream. However, the situation gradually becomes nightmarish. She observes Nicholas' troubled relationship with his tenant farmers, as well as with his daughter (Connie Marshall), to whom Miranda serves as governess. Her relationship with Nicholas intensifies after his wife dies, but his mental imbalance threatens any hope of happiness. 

Here’s a weird little contradiction that lives within the recesses of my brain—a contradiction I’m okay with: I’m not a huge fan of historical fiction when it comes to reading, but I absolutely love it when it comes to my viewing habits. I’m not sure if it’s because my brain processes the information differently, or if it’s some other "defect" that alters how I interact with the two mediums. Either way, while I may reluctantly delve into a historical fiction book, I’ll jump right into the story when it’s on my screen—especially if that story is gothic and dark.

If you know me even a little, you know that I’m a sucker for classic movies and almost any film that explores the darker side of life. When those two loves come together, it’s almost guaranteed that I’m going to fall in love from the moment the title sequence starts. Dragonwyck is perfect for me in that regard.

Dragonwyck begins in 1884, two years before the patroonship system was formally abolished in the United States. Nicholas Van Ryn is one of the last patroons left and is in need of a companion for his eight-year-old daughter, Katrine. He engages a distant cousin—granted reluctant permission from her parents—to travel to the Hudson Valley and take up the governess position. It’s a world that’s privileged and opulent, yet also on life support. A world quickly dying as the Anti-Rent movement rapidly dismantles a system that had been in place since the Dutch established New Amsterdam.

I won’t go into all the twists and turns that quickly envelop Miranda, but I’ll say this: it’s a delicious gothic tale of class, tradition, obsession, and murder. Gene Tierney, who can be a little hit-or-miss for me, is cast perfectly as Miranda. She gives a terrific performance, balancing naïve innocence with a desire for more out of life. As the movie progresses, we see her mature, and by the end, she carries a strength that’s delightful to see.

It’s Vincent Price as Nicholas Van Ryn who truly steals the show. I’m sure it goes without saying—but I’ll say it anyway—Vincent Price was a master of his craft. He can be aloof and tender at the same time, and he descends into madness like no other actor could. He is both subtle and over the top, depending on what the moment calls for. He is utterly perfect in this movie, and I cannot imagine another actor in the role.

As the weather starts to cool and the nights grow longer, I’m sure I’ll once again find myself visiting Dragonwyck Manor.

Strange Pictures by Uketsu

 

Synopsis From Flap:

A pregnant woman's sketches on a seemingly innocuous blog conceal a chilling warning. 

A child's picture of his home contains a dark secret message.

A sketch by a murder victim in his final moments leads an amateur sleuth down a rabbit hole that will reveal a horrifying reality. 

Strange Pictures is Uketsu's first book, which I didn’t know when I read Strange Houses. On the face of it, they aren’t connected in any way, so the reading order doesn’t matter. That said, had I read Strange Pictures first, I'm not totally sure I would have picked up the second book—which would have been a shame, since I really enjoyed Strange Houses.

I'm not saying I didn’t like Strange Pictures; I'm just not sure I liked it enough to continue with the author's writing style—a judgment I'm not completely sure would have been fair. That’s the dilemma with translated work. Some of what I may not be fully connecting with could be due to tonal and cultural markers that are hard to translate from one language to another, especially when the two languages don’t share a common linguistic origin, like Japanese and English. Because of that, I try my damndest to go into a translated work with an open mind and an understanding that I may be missing something.

That said, I loved how twisted and interconnected the overarching story becomes as its many tributaries come together. What seems at first to be three separate stories, taking place on overlapping timelines that aren’t clear from the beginning, becomes a singular tale of murders most foul. In that, I think the author ingeniously wove this tapestry of a story—pictures and all.

What didn’t work for me was how exposition-heavy the storytelling became. At times, it felt like the author was walking me through every connection, explaining how the pieces fit rather than letting me discover it for myself. I don’t mind a bit of guidance, but I don’t want to feel guided. I wish there had been a lighter touch. And that’s where my dilemma lies: how much of that heavy-handedness comes from the author, and how much might be a byproduct of translation?

If you like twisted little mysteries, Strange Pictures is absolutely worth picking up. However, if you're only willing to try one of his two current books, I'd recommend you pick up Strange Houses instead.

Favorite Fictional Character --- William "Buck" Rogers

 

I turned forty-nine this year, and if you're around my age, you'll understand what I'm about to say about our childhood.

Growing up, there weren't a lot of options for television viewing—especially if you didn't have cable, which I don't remember having until the fifth grade. So, you kinda watched whatever was on the few TV stations you got. And what was on wasn't necessarily new, especially during the daytime or late at night. A lot of what aired during those times were reruns—a concept that now feels almost antiquated in this age of streaming. That means I grew up watching a lot of shows that first aired before I was born—or, in the case of Buck Rogers in the 25th Century, a show that premiered when I was an adorable three years old.

I feel like I didn’t really watch the show until we were traveling with the carnival, sometime between fifth and eighth grade—but don’t quote me on that. I'd be willing to bet I’d seen it earlier, even if my first clear memory of watching it was in a short-term rental—just two weeks while we were in town for the fair in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. I was eating a fried bologna sandwich, sitting on the floor, watching Buck and Hawk take shelter from a storm on a barren planet. It had to be a season two episode. I was enraptured.

There are characters you like for no other reason than you thought they were “cool” the moment you saw them. Captain Buck Rogers is one of those characters for me. From his swagger to the way he spoke, I wanted to be him. I wanted to fly around in space, saving the day from whatever bad situation Buck, Wilma, Hawk, and Twiki found themselves in. He was just—for lack of a better word—cool. I’ve watched the show as an adult, and while some aspects haven’t aged well, the young kid that still lives inside me thinks he's one of the coolest characters ever to grace a TV screen.

Lavender House by Lev AC Rosen

 

Synopsis From The Dust Jacket:

Lavender House, 1952: the family seat of recently deceased matriarch Irene Lamontaine, head of the Lamontaine soap empire. This estate offers a unique freedom, where none of the residents or staff hide who they are. But to keep their secret, they've needed to keep others out. And now they're worried about keeping a murderer in. 

Irene's widow hires Evander Mills to uncover the truth behind her mysterious death. Andy, recently fired from the San Francisco police department after being caught in a raid on a gay bar, is happy to accept - his calendar is wide open. And his secret is the kind of secret the Lamontaines understand. 

Andy had never imagined a world like Lavender House. He's seduced by the safety and freedom found behind its gates, where a queer family lives honestly and openly. But that honesty doesn't extend to everything, and he quickly finds himself a pawn in a family game of old money, subterfuge, and jealousy - and Irene's death is only the beginning. 

The gates of Lavender House can't lock out the real world forever, and running a soap empire can be a dirty business. 

When I was in high school—in the early 1990s, for anyone interested—I would go to the public library in Skiatook, OK, and search for every single book I could find that featured a gay male character. At the time, I was desperate to read anything about who I might become as a gay man. I needed to know what my life could look like. You have to remember, we weren't on TV, and most movies with gay characters portrayed stereotypes of the worst kind. That’s not to say books were perfect in that regard. A lot of what I read was filled with self-hate and unhappy endings—and this was coming from gay authors. For the record, most classic gay lit is depressing. I'm glad I read those books, but for the most part, they aren’t ones I’d ever want to revisit.

The exceptions were the mystery books. In them, I found characters who were comfortable in their own skin and relatively well-adjusted. In Joseph Hansen’s Dave Brandstetter, Michael Nava’s Henry Rios, Richard Stevenson’s Donald Strachey, and the more "cozy" sleuths created by Mark Richard Zubro, I found characters who made me realize my future wasn’t all doom and gloom—a future where I could be happy.

The first time I dove into the world of Andy Mills, I knew I’d found another character who would have affected me the exact same way. But unlike the others, Andy is navigating a world where being gay could get you fired, committed to an asylum, or killed without anyone caring. He’s a character who has hit rock bottom and is struggling to recover—so when he finds Lavender House, he grabs on with both hands.

At Lavender House, he finds a group of people who can truly be themselves behind the gates of the estate, even if they play roles for the general public. Lavender House is a sanctuary, but like all insulated havens, a festering evil has started to blossom within its walls. Andy's job is to find and root out who planted the evil that ended in bloodshed.

I love an author who can craft a well-balanced mystery alongside characters that feel real and grounded. Andy has to be one of the most authentic characters I’ve come across in any genre. I absolutely adore this series, and it’s one I hope never ends. I want Andy to continue growing into his own skin and within the gay community. I want him to find happiness and fulfillment in life. I want to watch him fall in love and grow old. In the meantime, I’ll gladly read every twisty mystery he finds himself entangled in.

Favorite Fictional Character --- Patrick Jane

 

I'm nothing if not predictable. When it comes to TV shows, with a few exceptions, I stick to two broad genres: the supernatural and the mysterious. I can sit here and name dozens of TV shows—and even more characters—that I've fallen in love with over the years, getting lost in their stories as they play out on the silver screen.

Over the years, I've featured some heavyweight television sleuths like Jessica Fletcher, Perry Mason, and Thomas Magnum. All three are characters who helped shape my young mind as I was developing my interest in mysteries. As an adult, I've continued to devour mystery shows like the last of my Halloween candy.

Today, I'm going to (re)introduce you to Patrick Jane, the ex-psychic con man from The Mentalist. When we're first introduced to Patrick, his wife and daughter had been killed by a ruthless serial killer, and he's now using his skills while working with the CBI—the California Bureau of Investigation. He's a deeply damaged man who feels that his arrogance is the reason why his family was brutally murdered. 

Through the seasons, he learns to forgive himself and to put the blame where it belongs—on Red John. He never quite loses his obsession with vengeance, but he softens—though I'm not sure that's the right word. It's more like he becomes less rigidly fragile. He reaches a point where he no longer seems like he's going to break.

I'd be remiss if I didn't point out that I’d match his observational skills against those of Sherlock Holmes—or even Sherlock Hemlock—any damn day of the week. If it weren't for the way Patrick has learned to manipulate his marks, I might have called such a challenge a tie. Instead, I’d have to give the edge to him. I think he's one of the smartest characters ever created, but more than that, he's one of the most compelx characters to ever grave a TV screen, and I absolutely adore every second spent with him.

Sing Out, Louise! - Favorite Musical Tournament on the Facebook Page

Hello, Everyone! I just wanted to invite everyone to participate in the Sing Out, Louise! tournament over on the Facebook page. This tournament is all about our favorite stage and screen musicals, and we will eventually crown our favorite musical of all time. 

If you are interested in voting, or just watching the action, click this link. Hope to see you there!

The Old Dark House (1932)

 

Synopsis From Rotten Tomatoes:

Driving through a brutal thunderstorm in Wales, three travelers take refuge in an eerie house owned by the Femm family. Reluctantly admitted by Horace Femm (Ernest Thesiger), the three sit down to a strange dinner. Horace is neurotic; mute butler Morgan (Boris Karloff) is an alcoholic; and Horace's sister, Rebecca (Eva Moore), raves about chastity. When the storm brings in an industrialist and chorus girl Gladys DuCane Perkins (Lilian Bond), Morgan's lust and Rebecca's ire are ignited.

Do you have those movies that, no matter how many times you watch them, you keep coming back to? I hope you do—because returning to old favorites should feel like coming home, even if they're dark, gothic masterpieces directed by the great James Whale.

I've been a huge fan of Frankenstein—Whale's 1931 classic—for a long time. So when I first heard about The Old Dark House, I knew I had to see it. I actually bought it without ever watching it first. It had just been re-released on Blu-ray, so I ordered it from Barnes & Noble, and a few hours after bringing it home, I had it in the player. Within fifteen minutes, I was completely hooked on this weird little gothic gem.

The acting is peak 1930s camp, and I love every second of it. Karloff is perfect, obviously. Gloria Stuart—decades before Titanic—is stunning and sharp. Eva Moore? She should’ve played every witch in every movie, ever. And then there’s Melvyn Douglas, who just so happens to be one of my favorite forgotten actors. Honestly, how is he not mentioned in the same breath as Cary Grant or Jimmy Stewart? I’ve never seen him in a role I didn’t halfway fall in love with.

This movie is a total blast. It all takes place during one stormy night in a creepy old manor, and it’s packed with bizarre characters, buried secrets, and more atmosphere than the Titanic could handle. I’ve watched it at least fifteen times, and I’m sure I’ll be back at the Femm House a dozen more.

Murder Under Construction by Alex Henry

 

Synopsis From Goodreads:

Under the flight path, more than one secret is about to emerge…

On the brink of closing a high-profile terrorism investigation, DI Leon Peterson and his team are pulled off to investigate a cold case, a body found on a site for a new airport hotel. He knows this is political posturing, but it doesn’t make it easier to accept watching another DI muscle in on his team’s work.

For Leon, though, the decades-old cold case turns out to be closer to home in more than one way. His DS, Jasmine Todd, can’t understand his interest in the dead man, and Leon is not sure he wants to talk about his past. One thing he fears is that he may have a very personal connection to the deceased. Will the body finally give him the answers he’s waited for nearly forty years?

Even as some shocking revelations come to light, Leon can’t help being distracted by the terrorism case. He’s convinced the new DI in charge is chasing the wrong lead, and his conscience won’t let him leave it alone. No matter if it risks his career—and his life.

If you couldn’t tell from what I said about my reading habits over the last few years in my review of How to Solve Your Own Murder, I’ve been reading a lot of books that could be classified as romance—despite the vehicle the author chose to develop the romance. It could be a locked-room mystery, a tale of vampires or shifters, a story set on a ranch or at a rodeo, or, in the case of Murder Under Construction, a police procedural.

What I thoroughly enjoyed was how little the romance was the focus of the story. Instead, the author chose to center the mystery itself and Leon’s internal personal life to propel the narrative forward. I relished every second I spent with Leon as a character—getting to know his conflicted relationship with his family, right down to his grudging love of the two cats sharing his space. I enjoyed the way his mind works as he puzzles out the targets of the bombings or why there’s a decades-old dead body in a condemned pub.

It’s in Leon that this book truly shines, and why I’ll continue the series. The mysteries themselves are simple without being boring. I just wish there were a little more complexity involved, but I understand that with two separate investigations, neither was able to be fleshed out as much as I would have preferred. I plan on seeing how the second book goes before I start getting too picky about how the author handles the mystery element.

As for the romance itself, it doesn’t even begin until the last few pages. While I’m curious to see if it develops further, it won’t be what keeps me turning the next page. It feels like the romance will remain in the background, which I’m more than okay with. I’ll wait to see whether it unfolds more in the vein of the Dave Brandstetter or Evander Mills books, or if Leon’s love life will chart its own course forward.

Favorite Fictional Character --- Lance Sweets

 

When I started this feature back in July of 2009, I didn’t think I would still be writing a Favorite Fictional Character post in 2025. Granted, I’ve taken some years off, but I assumed I would eventually run out of characters to show some love to. I was absolutely wrong. I love reading. I love movies and TV shows. How could I ever run out of characters to highlight when I enjoy so much of what they appear in? For anyone interested, the first Favorite Fictional Character post was on Vanyel Ashkevron—my first true literary crush.

I recently binged Bones from start to finish, mainly because it was one of those shows I stopped watching during my years-long break from TV. I couldn’t even tell you why I stopped watching, but I did—so now I have a lot of shows I started back then but never finished. So far, I’ve binged every season of Grimm, Bones, and Supernatural, and I’m just getting started on The Mentalist. They’re all great shows with some dynamic characters, so be on the lookout for many of them in the future.

Today, it's all about Dr. Lance Sweets from one of the greatest mystery shows of all time: Bones. Most people would start with either Seeley Booth or Temperance "Bones" Brennan—the two main characters of the show—but I'm going to start with who I think was the emotional heart of the series: Dr. Lance Sweets. Sweets, a psychologist (or "shrink," as he was most often called), made his first appearance in Season 3. And his impact was instant. He got to the root of Booth and Temperance's relationship within a few short minutes—although nothing would happen between them for a few more seasons. He was compassionate, empathetic, and seemed to truly understand what made the Jeffersonian team work.

As the seasons progressed, both his personal and professional relationships with the team grew, making him integral to their lives. As his role expanded, so did his character. We learned he was a talented musician and had a deep, abiding love for his girlfriend. His self-doubts and insecurities were exposed for us all to see—yet he rarely allowed them to affect either aspect of his life. He was strong and insecure. He was compassionate but had a firm sense of morality. He loved deeply and had an intellect to rival most others.

I will die on the hill that he was the most complex character on the show, and the series suffered after his departure. He’s a character I would love to get a drink with and discuss any damn subject that came up. He’s a character I truly enjoyed spending time with.

How to Solve Your Own Murder by Kristen Perrin

 

Synopsis From The Dust Jacket:

It’s 1965 and teenage Frances Adams is at an English country fair with her two best friends. But Frances’s night takes a hairpin turn when a fortune-teller makes a bone-chilling prediction: One day, Frances will be murdered. Frances spends a lifetime trying to solve a crime that hasn’t happened yet, compiling dirt on every person who crosses her path in an effort to prevent her own demise. For decades, no one takes Frances seriously, until nearly sixty years later, when Frances is found murdered.

In the present day, Annie Adams has been summoned to a meeting at the sprawling country estate of her wealthy and reclusive great-aunt Frances. But by the time Annie arrives in the quaint English village of Castle Knoll, Frances is already dead. Annie is determined to catch the killer, but thanks to Frances’s lifelong habit of digging up secrets and lies, it seems every endearing and eccentric villager might just have a motive for her murder.

A small part of the reason I was interested in starting up this blog again was to get myself out of my current reading pattern. My first reading love was mysteries, and that started at a young age. I devoured every Nancy Drew, Hardy Boys, and Encyclopedia Brown book I could as a kid. By the time I was in the 5th grade, I was reading Agatha Christie books and anything else I could get my adolescent hands on. As I've gotten older, I've found myself slipping into other reading obsessions over the years, but I've always gone back to devouring every twisted murder mystery I could get my hands on. For the past few years, the only mysteries I've read are those marketed in the romance genre. Now, don't get me wrong—there are some fabulous authors in the field writing mysteries within the romance genre, and I've loved several books and series—but I feel myself getting stuck in a rut, and I want out of it.

I didn't have any particular reasoning in selecting How to Solve Your Own Murder as my first foray back into the "traditional" mystery experience. In reality, I simply picked a random one off my shelves. No matter how this book landed in my hands, I'm so ridiculously glad I started here. From almost the first page, I felt the same thrill I experienced with the first Agatha Christie novel I picked up, The Mirror Crack'd from Side to Side. It's this buzz that settles beneath my skin, burrowing its way into every brain synapse, demanding I get lost within the puzzle unfolding on the page. I last felt this with Magpie Murders by Anthony Horowitz, and I'm so relieved to feel this way again.

Frances and Annie are two characters I simply enjoyed spending time with. Their voices are uniquely their own, but I could tell that these were two women who would have immensely enjoyed each other's company. In Frances, I found someone I need to know more about—I want to know how her brain works. In Annie, I found someone I want to spend more time with. I found her to be engaging in a way that kept me from wanting to put this book down. I can't wait to see more of both of them.

The mystery itself is as twisty as they come, and I loved every damn word of it. It was challenging enough that it kept me from figuring it out until the conclusion played out on the page, but as I look back at it, it's a fair mystery—I do think there are enough clues sprinkled about for some readers to figure it out on their own. Would it be hard? Absolutely. But I don't enjoy books that make it too easy. Unless it's a revisit with my favorite childhood detectives.

Binge Watch --- Supernatural

I probably watch too much TV. Actually, I know I watch too much TV. I've been this way since I was a kid, sitting on the living room floor glued to Saturday morning cartoons. Believe it or not, there was a few years where I stopped watching TV, cold turkey. I was religiously watching Grimm, Supernatural and a few other shows at the time and for whatever reason, I just stopped. I never saw Doctor McDreamy die. I never saw Rick and company leave the prison. And I damn well never saw Crowley sacrifice himself.

This year has been a year for binging, getting caught up on the shows I never finished. I've already knocked out Grimm and Bones, because that was another show I never finished, and I just finished Supernatural on my birthday, this past Friday. For those not familiar with the show, Supernatural lasted for 15 season. That means I just finished binging 327 episodes of one of the greatest TV shows of all time. 

My favorite TV show of all time is Buffy the Vampire Slayer, which I will be binging before the new Hulu series starts, so it should come as no surprise that I loved Supernatural from the moment it hit our television screens in 2005 on what was the WB Network. From the moment Dean showed up on Sam's doorstep telling him that their father was MIA on a hunting trip, I was hooked. Here was a show that had two hot guys fighting monsters, this was tailor-made for me to love it. Now, if that was all the show was about, I probably would have gotten bored at some point. Instead, this is a show about family and what a family does to support each other, no matter what that family looks like. It's a show about two brothers, Sam and Dean Winchester, who would literally die for the other. Most of all, it's a show that transcended genres. 

This time around, I found myself siding with Dean more than I did my first time. Honestly, Sam could be fricking whiny and annoying at times, the way a younger brother should be. I also remembered how much I wanted "Bloodlines" to have worked as a spinoff, which never happened. And speaking of spinoffs, the fact that "Wayward Sisters" never happened has me seeing red. I want more Jody, Donna, Claire, Alex, and Patience. I feel robbed now. 

As I was watching, I wanted to live in the Men of Letters Bunker, I wanted to hang out with Rowena (my favorite character from the show), I wanted to drive Baby, and I wanted to eat pie with Dean. I wanted to go out on hunts with them. Most of all, I want to see Dean and Castiel reunited. I want that confession to mean something. 

If you've never watched the show, you should. If it's been a while, give it a rewatch. I promise you won't be disappointed. 

Favorite Fictional Character --- Gilligan

 

Sharing my favorite fictional characters with everyone used to be one of my favorite aspects of this blog, so there was no way I was going to resurrect Wordsmithonia without bringing back this weekly feature. 

August 16th, 2017 was the last time I posted a Favorite Fictional Character post, and it just so happened to be on Inspector Gadget, the fumbling cartoon(ish) secret agent many of us grew up with. It's fitting that today I'm going to feature another fumbling character, the always clumsily adorable Gilligan from a show I'm sure we are all familiar with, Gilligan's Island. 

Growing up, I remember laying on my stomach, head in my hands in front of TV watching Gilligan's Island and loving every minute of it. At first in black & white and then in color, as both the show and our TV upgraded, I loved Gilligan's antics as he bumbled across my screen, somehow both annoying and endearing himself to his fellow castaways. 

He always tried to do the right thing and to be as helpful as possible. He put his whole heart into everything he did, but like Inspector Gadget, he fumbled it 98% of the time. His antics are both hilarious and loveable, but it's his heart that I absolutely love about him. He didn't quit or give up when he failed at something. He didn't stop pouring his heart into everything he did, just because his friends got frustrated with him. He kept true to himself, and in my opinion, that is just about the most important thing anyone can do. It's one of those life lessons I think most of us would be good to hold onto with both hands. 

Wordsmithonia Has A Facebook Page

When I made the painful, final decision to shutter the blog a few years ago, I started a Facebook page mainly because I wanted to keep some semblance of it still alive. While my brain was telling me it was time to let go, my heart wouldn't let me. At least not fully. 

Now, while we all post our thoughts about books, music, TV shows, and movies, we also  play a lot of tournaments. We've done tournaments covering the greatest screen villains of all time, favorite children's characters, the most annoying characters, favorite reads, favorite soundtracks, and quite a few more. 

Right now we are getting ready to start one on our favorite musicals. I would invite you all to join us, which you can do by clicking the link above our banner photo beneath here. You could play by entering your own favorites, or vote once the tournament starts, or even just to lurk around the page. We're a friendly group. 

Join Us!

Lured (1947)

If you know me, even a little bit, you know that not only am I a sucker for classic movies, but I'm a fiend for those that just so happen to fall into the classic mystery/noir genre. I'm by no means an expert on the subject as I know there are hundreds of really good movies I've never even heard of, let alone watched. What I am, is a lover of these films. I've been know to binge 4-6 new to me movies in a day; I get so entranced by them. Thank everything holy for the streaming services that have brought so many of them back into the light of day. Kanopy, which I have through my public library membership, has an abundant catalog of them. If you have a library card, I would implore you to see if your public library partners with them. If you like movies, you will love this service. 

I was browsing in Kanopy the other day and came across a movie with the general description of a serial killer stalking the streets of London, luring and killing women through the use of personal ads. When an American dance hall girl figures out her friend is missing, she takes her concerns to Scotland Yard, and is quickly roped into going  undercover to catch the man who has already claimed the lives of too many innocent women. 

That description alone sold me on giving it a go. The fact that Lucille Ball plays the aforementioned dance hall girl and George Sanders is a nightclub owner who she gets involved with, was just icing on the proverbial cake. I don't need to state how brilliant Lucille Ball was in this, because that should be obvious. It actually makes me wish she had done more of this type of movie. Yeah, she was a born comedian but she had the chops for tense drama as well, and that shines in Lured. George Sanders was not a typical Hollywood heartthrob with the looks of a Cary Grant, but that man's screen presence and his voice more than made up for that. It was impossible not to fall for him, even when you know all along there's a chance he's the killer. 

I'm not going to spoil anything about the story's twists and turns, but I would strongly recommend you discover them for yourselves. This was a delightful caper that's guaranteed to thrill even the most die hard mystery fans. For an extra treat, be on the lookout for a deliciously over the top performance by Boris Karloff.

Strange Houses by Uketsu

Unatural layouts, trap doors, and windowless rooms - a sinister conspiracy is concealed within a house's warped and unsettling floor plans. 

I'm an impulse buyer. When I go grocery shopping, I'll end up with fifteen things I never planned on getting. I've tried an abundant amount of chip and Oreo flavors this way. As I've aged, I've tried to get those impulses under control to limited success. With bigger items, say a coat that looks like a watercolor of a birch forest, I'll walk away to ponder things over for a day or two. For the record, I wear that coat a lot. 

It should come as no surprise that my lack of impulse control isn't constrained to the grocery store, put me in a

book store and all the samplings start looking like the newest flavor of Lays. It's why I'm trying my damndest to stay out book stores as much as I can. Long story short, I saw Strange Houses by Uketsu on a cute little side table in the east side Barnes & Noble and knew instantly that I needed to take it home. 

Don't get me wrong, when I see a blurb touting how sensational a book is, I'm always a little skeptical. Nevertheless this little guy came home with me and I loved every second of it. I wasn't sure what to expect, but what I got was a fiendishly clever murder mystery that had me second guessing myself a couple of times. 

Our narrator is approached by a friend who while shopping for a new home for his young family comes across a house that despite its attributes, left him feeling off. With the help of a draftsman friend, our narrator dives into the mystery of the house and the sinister reason behind its design. 

There isn't a lot I want to divulge regarding the nature of the mystery or the way it plays out, mainly because I think it's best for readers to discover it for themselves. What I will say is I enjoyed the heck out of the journey and I'm really looking forward to reading more of this author. 

Hello

 

A few years ago I made a decision to let this blog die. I made up a lot of excuses in my head about why that was a good idea. I told myself I didn't have the time. I convinced myself that nobody was really reading it anyway. I lied to myself that I wouldn't miss it. Even when I knew I would miss the people I met and grew close to over the years. I even started a FB page that I planned to use as an extension of the blog, and in many ways it's worked out for me. But it's not the same. 

I miss sitting down and really putting my thoughts down on paper, typos and all, or in this case on screen. I miss the interactions and the discovery of books I never would have heard about, let alone read without the blogging community. I know blogs aren't the "cool" thing anymore. I know Instagram and TikTok have taken up a lot of the space that blogs used to dominate. And there again, all I can say it's not the same. I've seen some great content creators in those spaces, and I applaud them. Yet, I miss curling up in bed, going through my blog roll, and catching up with my favorite bloggers. I miss the interaction that always felt personal and connecting. 

Now, I'm not saying I'm coming back to blogging full time, or that I even expect anybody to read a single post I put out there. I may be sporadic in posting. I may even decide that I have nothing to say. But, I feel that it's time to reclaim my voice and space. I hope to see you around, even if it's just me bopping in and out, catching up on my favorite bloggers.