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The Retirement Plan - ALL 31 CHAPTERS - Please critique

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Lidless
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Posted: Fri 04 Feb , 2005 3:53 am
Als u het leven te ernstig neemt, mist u de betekenis.
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31
“He hath awakened from the dream of life –
’Tis we, who lost in stormy visions, keep
With phantoms an unprofitable strife,
And in mad trance, strike with our spirit’s knife.”
Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792–1822)


Shortly before noon Hawthorne sat in the Oval Office, conscious of the two highly conspicuous Secret Service agents spaced out on his left near the cream wall. Because there is a gap of two feet between the Oval Office’s walls and its famous round carpet they preferred to stand on the carpet. It provides more friction than the highly veneered wooden floor that covers the gap
.
Hawthorne had already shocked Wilburforce and Jacobs with the news about Dennison, but he was not finished.

‘Michael’s my son?’ asked Wilburforce weakly.

Hawthorne nodded. Tears swelled in the President’s eyes. ‘A son? I have a son.’

‘Yes, the lab results just came through.’

‘But how, I mean, how, how could,’ stammered the President.

‘We’ve put the time of conception at during the campaign trail four years ago. Aitken was part of the election team. I guess he caught you at it without you two knowing. Some hotel somewhere.’

The President buried his head in his hands and shook his head in remorse. His voice was slightly muffled as he spoke. ‘It was just a couple of times, no more than that. We were all stressed out, our wives too.’ Small pools formed on the desk between his elbows. ‘Larry seemed to have endless energy and would always be up until the small hours, either drinking with the influentials or planning. Sheila was lonely and I felt powerful. I can’t put it simpler than that.’

Jacobs still could not believe it. ‘But how could Aitken have known for sure about Michael’s paternity?’

‘Aitken managed to get samples himself and routed it through Wisconsin PD,’ explained Hawthorne. ‘Walsh came up with that match, too.’

‘Well ain’t we just one big happy family,’ sneered Jacobs at the President in a rare display. He turned to Hawthorne. ‘Just what do you plan to do with this information?’

‘To tell you the truth, I don’t give a dick about who sits in that seat. Most people in this country are beginning not to either. There are no true visionaries that will occupy that seat anymore, no true leaders. No one to aspire to. You all bend like a straw poll in the political wind. All it’s come down over the years is a few tax dollars and instead of attracting as many supporters as possible, you try to offend as few voters as you can, merging and blurring from one administrator to another.’

Wilburforce looked up at him and began to open his mouth but Hawthorne cut him off.

‘The only person that will be affected by this is Michael Fane, and I for one am not going to condemn him to a life under the microscope and long lenses of the media. As far as I’m concerned, this information is irrelevant. I would suggest you never tell the Vice President either.’

Wilburforce stared at visitor. ‘You mean I have to watch Michael grow up and never let him know I’m his father?’

‘Consider it the punishment. Anyway, if you had any paternal feelings for the boy you’d let him live in innocence.’

‘So what should we do with the Dennison issue, Mr. President?’ asked Jacobs.

Wilburforce’s sad, almost tearful face looked up at his Chief of Staff. ‘I’m resigning.’

Jacobs laughed in disbelief. ‘You can’t! Not after all we’ve been through!’

‘Let me put the question back to you, Owen. What the fuck would you do? How the fuck do you spin this one? Sorry about the language, Hawthorne.’

‘None taken.’

Jacobs remained silent and bowed his head in contrition.

‘Agent Hawthorne,’ began the President. ‘I must apologize for the difficulties we’ve placed in your way. I hope you can understand and forgive me.’

‘Yes I can,’ replied Hawthorne with honesty. ‘But I agree with Jacobs, there’s no reason for you to resign. You had nothing to do with Aitken’s murder, and I don’t think the American public will think that way either.’

‘Look,’ explained the President, ‘If Robert had never been assassinated, I would never have had a chance of a second term, with or without his giving that speech. I do miss him, you know,’ he said with regret. ‘The public won’t want a President who first picks an attorney general that shows a complete lack of faith in God, and who then chooses his murderer as his replacement. It doesn’t make me out to be a good judge of character does it?’

Hawthorne could not argue with the fact.

‘It’s as it should be,’ continued Wilburforce. ‘I’m going to step down this afternoon and give Larry a crack at the whip. Christ I owe him that much, though he’ll never know it. Who knows, maybe something good will come of it.’

One of the trusted Secret Servicemen placed his finger to his ear. ‘He’s here, Mr. President.’

Wilburforce straightened his tie and sat up straight. ‘Send him in.’ Everyone tensed in the room.

The gleaming face of the immaculate and confident Victor Dennison entered the room.

‘Good morning, Mr. President,’ he said, stumbling over the last word as he caught sight of Hawthorne and the Secret Service agents. ‘What’s going on?’ he asked.

‘Why, Victor? Why? Did you never think you’d be caught?’ sighed the President.

‘Me? ’ cried out Dennison. He looked at Hawthorne, his eyes full of accusation and hatred.
‘You bastard,’ he spat. ‘You’re trying to pin this on me? Are you mad?’

‘Are you quite finished? Sit down,’ barked Wilburforce. Dennison’s eyes never left Hawthorne’s as he took the cushioned chair on the other side of the President’s desk. The Secret Servicemen spread their legs slightly apart. It was not a common occurrence for The Boss to be face to face with an assassin. Although the X-ray machine had shown he was not carrying any weapons there was no telling what he was capable of.

‘What crock of shit has he been feeding you?’ Dennison asked the President.

Wilburforce’s head was almost trembling with fury at his betrayer. ‘Those convenient stomach cramps that excused you from a formal function that evening. We’ve checked. No one else had a problem with the food.’

‘It was stomach cramps,’ glowered Dennison.

‘As Deputy Attorney General you already knew about Leving and the Library Awareness Program, as did I,’ continued the President. ‘It was a nice trick. If it had not been for Hawthorne’s frankly pain-in-the-ass tactics you would have got away with it.’

‘What the hell are you talking about?’

Wilburforce ignored the question. ‘That cell phone you purchased may be wireless but it had a noose that will find its way around your throat. And last of all your personal disk space not only had a copy of Robert’s speech, but downloaded web pages that showed the layout of Montebello and details of the drug used to bleed my friend to death,’ sneered Wilburforce.

Dennison started to reply, he face crimson with anger, but Wilburforce put his hands up as if to push him away. ‘Don’t bother with that “I did it for you” crap. It’s embarrassing enough.’ The President turned to Hawthorne. ‘Did I miss anything out, Agent Hawthorne?’

‘Psyche profile, Mr. President.’

‘Yes, well I don’t put great store in those things. And if one word gets out about Michael I’ll make sure personally that you go to the chair, Victor. Luckily I understand it’s not painless. Do the honors would you, Sam?’ It was the first time that the President had ever used Hawthorne’s first name. Hawthorne liked it, even though this man was not going to be in office at the end of the day.

Dennison had become a pitiful sight. He seemed to have decreased in stature, his back bent, his shoulders slumped, a man with no energy and no future.

Hawthorne stood up and hauled the lifeless body to its feet. Dennison stared blankly at the President as he allowed his body to be manhandled. Hawthorne reached into his back pocket and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. He expertly slapped the first around a thick right wrist before twisting Dennison’s arm behind and reached out for the left arm.

‘Victor Bartholomew Dennison,’ he recited, ‘you’re under the arrest for –’ All hell broke loose at that moment.

Dennison’s body suddenly came to life and it seemed to Wilburforce in that instant that Dennison’s eyes shook in their sockets.

*

Einstein once proved that time was relative to the observer, and to those in the Oval Office the second that followed seemed to take an excruciating eternity.

*

Dennison struggled free of Hawthorne’s grasp with powerful bear-like movements and lunged for the President’s desk, picking up a small solid gold letter-opener that was placed precisely in the middle of the desk one inch from, and parallel to, the President’s writing pad. It was extremely polished and extremely sharp.

*

A split second later both Secret Servicemen started to move their right hands to their revolvers tucked in their holsters under the left armpit.

*

Hawthorne had to quickly put out his right foot to stop himself from falling and turned to face Dennison. It occurred to him that the President’s protection team had positioned themselves in advance such that he would not be in the line of fire. He hoped they could get their shots off in time.

*

Jacobs assumed the crash position in his chair, convinced that one of the bullets would otherwise be whistling past his ear.

*

Dennison’s body arched back. His bloody right hand, holding the killing instrument by the blade was already behind his head and was primed to throw it at Wilburforce’s chest five feet away. Dennison started to roar as his hand arced down.

*

Wilburforce sat in his chair paralyzed.

*

Hawthorne saw a chance. He reached up to Dennison’s hand as it descended and yanked on the second handcuff that dangled uselessly from its wrist, hoping to spoil the timing of the throw and have the knife embed itself harmlessly in the desk. It was too late. It had already left Dennison’s hand.

*

After years of intensive training the Secret Service have prepared for every eventuality to such a degree that all defensive movements are pure reflex. In this particular situation the two men become ‘Target’ and ‘Take Out’. In the White House canteen they are referred to as Dumb and Dumber.

Take Out is designated as the agent nearest the potential threat and his task is to neutralize that threat. Target is the agent nearest the President and his assignment is to prevent whatever implement was being used reaching the President. Under normal circumstances this would be a bullet-catching job, but it was impossible for Target to get in the way of the knife in time. There was another option.

*

Dennison died instantly as the first dumdum bullet from Target destroyed his left ear and ricocheted around the inside of his skull.

*

At the same time, bullets from Target’s automatic sped across the gap and across the President’s heart, hoping to provide a shield from the oncoming knife. One of the bullets nicked the side of the knife an inch from his chest and deflected it into the President’s left biceps, pinning his arm to his chair. Wilburforce looked first at his bloody arm and then up at Hawthorne, a look of disbelief on his face. ‘Monday mornings, eh?’ he said and promptly fainted.

*

Ten minutes later the scene had calmed down. Two medics had already cleaned the wound to Wilburforce’s arm and professionally administered a local anaesthetic and bandages. He would soon be on his way to George Washington to have stitches.

Nobody had remonstrated Hawthorne for the close call on the President’s life. Wilburforce had kicked himself for insisting on facing Dennison personally.

After Dennison’s body had been taken away, Hawthorne studied the carpet where it had fallen. He was amazed at just how little blood had seeped out of it. It was in stark contrast to the manner of Aitken’s death.

‘You know,’ he said to Wilburforce as the President waived aside the two medics that had entered the Oval Office carrying a stretcher, ‘Charlie’s going to kill me for not taping this.’

‘Owen,’ Wilburforce called out.

Jacobs ran to his side. ‘Yes, Mr. President?’

‘I know it’s against protocol, but give Hawthorne here a copy of the tape, edited of course. I think he’s deserved it, don’t you? Hawthorne had forgotten the so-called secret camera that recorded everything inside the Oval Office.

Jacobs beamed. The broadcast would turn Wilburforce into the nation’s hero, valiantly confronting the assassin. The President recognized the look.

‘Don’t get any ideas Owen, I’m still resigning in a couple of hours,’ he sighed. ‘In fact, I’m going to quote Robert’s speech to the nation word for word. He was right. There’s too much damned violence in this country and the time for lullabies is over.’

_________________

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Lidless
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Posted: Fri 04 Feb , 2005 3:55 am
Als u het leven te ernstig neemt, mist u de betekenis.
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epilogue

“i hate quotations.”
ralph waldo emerson (1803-1882)


forty years on and the human race continued to slowly evolve into one global organism. the united states had effectively become the brains, the coordinating organ, whilst tv and the internet acted as the nervous system and the united nations the antibodies. wars, strife, disasters and flared jeans came and went, programs still interrupted commercials, and because of how e-mail tended to be used, only formal documents bothered to use capital letters anymore.

the rolling stones had finally stopped touring.

the election had been a close run thing in the end since much of wilburforce’s deemed heroism had rubbed off onto his relatively unknown running mate, but in the end senator harlow had squeezed in. much to the annoyance of benditoz, excalibur had maintained its washington location rather than relocate to new york as douglas had originally planned.

wilburforce’s rendering of aitken’s speech after the election had changed very little. politicians from all sides had rallied to denounce the speech, putting it down to wilburforce still being in shock over the attack on his life. it had produced merely a glitch in the established system, nothing more. aitken’s web-site had attracted no more than morbid curiosity.

crime continued to rise steadily throughout the country.

vandersmissen’s documentary had proved to be the most watched television program in american history. president harlow had no choice but to allow vandersmissen to continue to liaise with hawthorne. the viewing public demanded it and vandersmissen’s tape of the attempted bribery by the then-senator also had something to do with it. the show produced on average six specials a year and ran for over fifteen years. hawthorne and vandersmissen had decided to retire simultaneously. with the exception of kemp, they were the only surviving members of the original team.

after a long courtship, mcconnell and baker were finally married, but the walshes had not faired so well. eammon walsh’s lack of self-esteem had proved to be too much of a strain, and they were divorced a year after his accident.

*

a more elderly version of samuel j. hawthorne regarded himself in the men’s room mirror. not too good, the make-up department at quantico were closer in their estimate than I had hoped. he still wasn’t vain by any means, but he had just hit seventy-nine, and wasn’t looking forward to his next birthday. anniversary, he corrected himself. please god don’t let annie and the kids throw a party for my fifty-fifth.

he brushed a loose white hair from his somber charcoal suit and straightened his black tie before making his way back to the waiting room of vandersmissen’s executors. why did u want your body to be flashed to ashes, charlie? it’s so impersonal visiting a plaque rather than a tombstone. vandersmissen’s wife of thirty years and three children were also in attendance, deep in their own personal grief.

each of vandersmissen’s family looked a million bucks. vandersmissen had ended up as producer and owner of the syndicate rights to his show and had become one of the richest men in television. there had been the inevitable copycat shows but none had matched the addiction and tension that sword of justice had produced.

a very youthful secretary without a hint of a smile bade him into the senior partner’s office. this sort of thing could not be performed on the netphone. the senior partner exuded wisdom and wealth.

‘i’m sorry we have to meet under such circumstances, mr. hawthorne,’ apologized the lawyer as he stood up to shake hawthorne’s hand, ‘i’ve followed your career for a long time. very impressive.’

‘thank u,’ said hawthorne curtly, looking forward to leaving the building as soon as possible. am i despondent because i have lost my best friend or because i am reminded of my own mortality? hawthorne sat down in the soft armchair, rubbing his right knee. damned weather.

the senior partner eased himself into his chair and leant back as if he and hawthorne had been friends for years. ‘charles vandersmissen’s testament has three unusual clauses in it,’ he began. ‘firstly, each are the beneficiaries are to be seen individually by me, and charles stipulated that u be the first. secondly, u are to inherit one half of all his assets, which is approximately one hundred and seventeen million dollars.’ the lawyer did not have to refer to the papers in front of him. ‘he felt that his success was due as much to u as to himself.’

hawthorne coughed violently. he had never begrudged his friend’s success nor his money, being content to live out the life of a well-paid g-man. besides, as many prosecutors had tried unsuccessfully to prove in the past, if he had benefited in any way from the television show then the question of bias would raise its ugly head.

the lawyer handed hawthorne a tissue – they were in great supply in his desk. ‘and thirdly, this.’ he held up a small box less than an inch thick and wrapped in thin white cardboard.

‘it’s a videotape,’ answered the lawyer in response to hawthorne’s questioning look. hawthorne had not seen one in over quarter of a century and the memories came flooding back. he smiled gently. typical of charlie to leave a message. i wonder how old it is?

‘we found a video recorder in the basement,’ explained the senior partner, ‘didn’t know we still had one of those things. u are to watch it alone.’ he handed the wrapped package to hawthorne and gestured to an open door leading to a small annex.

hawthorne stood up with difficulty and rubbed his right knee again. maybe now i could afford the titanium replacement. he walked to the tiny, darkened room which was obviously used mainly for storing old documents. the air was stuffy. the curtains had been closed and hawthorne immediately opened them, revealing a gray sky. he pushed one of the windows slightly ajar to let some fresh air in. is it my imagination or has the weather appeared gloomier than ever since he passed away a week ago?

he closed the door behind him. the old-fashioned television dominated the room, and hawthorne was glad to see that the video recorder was on top of the set rather than underneath it. he examined the unopened box with the eye of a policeman. the wrapping was of thin white cardboard and bound by old transparent tape. vandersmissen had signed the box on all sides where the edges met and hawthorne was certain the box had not been opened since its original sealing.

hawthorne removed the wrapping with careful reverence. it revealed a simple unmarked black videocassette. he slotted it into the gaping mouth of the video which started to play automatically. he quickly looked around for the remote for the television and found it lying on the arm of the small wooden chair that was pointed towards the screen. he shuffled into the seat with an involuntary grunt and turned on the television. a dark-haired youthful image of his departed friend flickered into life. ‘hello sam,’ it smiled. vandersmissen was sat alone behind one the desks in the excalibur suite and appeared calm and reflective.

hello charlie.

‘i guess i’m the first of us to know whether aitken was right.’

i hope he wasn’t.

‘if my calculations and future plans are correct, u’ve just inherited a ton of money. don’t feel guilty towards any family i might have now, they should be enough to go around and u deserved every cent.’ a feeling of unease stirred through hawthorne’s body. why did he tape this so early in his life?

vandersmissen seemed to read his mind. ‘well, i won’t dick about. u’ve always been sharp and may already have guessed why i’m taping this now.’ vandersmissen held his hands up. there was no remorse in his eyes, nor a look of victory. they were business-like. ‘i did it. i killed robert aitken.’

hawthorne clutched his chest and froze the picture. charlie’s never been one for practical jokes. he leant forwards and examined the image closely. dammit. it is him. he was loath to play the rest of the tape, but it was a necessary evil. he allowed the chest pains to subside and his breathing to return to normal first. with the reluctance of a visit to his proctologist he pressed the play button. u fuck.

vandersmissen looked blankly at the camera for several seconds, not having anticipated that hawthorne might have stopped the tape to recover.

‘it all started about two months before,’ explained vandersmissen conversationally. ‘it turned out that aitken was one of the few fans of court on camera and wanted to use it as the vehicle for his speech. the stupid bastard seemed to think an ex-fed like myself wouldn’t give him too hard a grilling over it as opposed to those heavyweight washington reporters.’ envy crept into his voice.

hawthorne’s throat constricted and he had to force himself to breathe.

‘as u know,’ continued vandersmissen without pausing, ‘the show sucked and something like this was like a gift from, well, god.’ he smiled at his own wit. ‘but it would only have been a short term one.

‘there’s real money to be made in hollywood if u can last the course, and u can only achieve that if your popularity lasts. airing that speech would have given great ratings on the day, but thereafter i would have been poison. being a key player in solving the aitken murder and bringing it into people’s living rooms - just how much more popular could i be?’ vandersmissen smiled and shrugged at the same time.

i know. my family and i have had to deal with fame ever since, u bastard.

‘how many starlets and stars have given up their souls on the casting couches?’ reasoned vandersmissen. ‘we’ve all been hookers in one sense or another during our lives.’

how the hell did he pull it off?

‘u’re probably wondering by now how i pulled it off. first of all, leving. i came across his name when investigating that murder of the rich guy’s adulterous wife, one of leving’s private jobs if u recall. u were on one of your training courses at the time. i suspected leving but he was untouchable, according to aitken. i was told to drop it there and then.

‘although i’ve never been a believer in rough justice, both of them had it coming to them. one of my friends at the nsa told me about the library awareness program, and as i started to plan aitken’s death, using leving as a decoy was irresistible.

what about the two innocents, macintosh and wilson. did they deserve to die too?

‘as for the cell phone, we don’t shoot one episode of court on camera a week, remember, i’m only on the show to introduce each segment in it and we do it in batches, sometimes up to six shows a day. it gave me plenty of time to shadow dennison on my weeks off and ring aitken. smart, eh? i’d been planning it for weeks.’

hawthorne almost spat at the screen and his hands gripped the arms of the chair so tightly that they hurt.

‘as for dennison’s stomach cramps on the night, there was one extra waiter at the function he was attending. me. get the picture? u only made one elementary mistake sam,’ chided vandersmissen as he held up one finger in admonishment. ‘since aitken was the attorney general, his jcos user rights allowed him access to everyone’s disk space, including victor dennison’s. that password we already had! it was just a matter of waiting to be alone here and logging on.’ vandersmissen patted a computer beside him. oh yes, i was the road pet of course and i planted that bomb. the secret service planting a bomb in the fbi building? get real, sam. make that three mistakes.
‘
how did i know u were being followed and bugged by the secret service? just a shrewd guess, i had no idea really, but it made u believe. u needed to believe in the road pet, sam. u wanted to believe so much.

‘but what a beautiful reaction from dennison! oh how i laughed! shakespeare was right – the world is a stage and u’ve all been playing your parts for me. oscar material.’ vandersmissen pulled out a small light bulb from his pocket and held it up to the camera. hawthorne leaned forward for a better look.

‘u see this? it’s a very sophisticated piece of equipment. it’s the right size for a video camera and produces a strobe effect, undetectable to the human eye but it affects the subconscious mind, rendering the subject open to suggestions,’ he explained. ‘if i hadn’t managed to get into dennison’s files i would have to use it during my interview with him. high risk of course, but there was a lot at stake, my entire retirement plan in fact.

‘i hope u can forgive me, my friend, for both doing this and telling u now. jesus, i had to tell someone. this was the only safe way, of course.’

i can’t.

‘now, sam. i’ve no idea what i’m going to do in the future. maybe this new show will start dropping in the ratings and i’ll have to play hero again. who knows? but the question is, what are u going to do now?

‘are u going to let the public know about my confession? i know u won’t be influenced by the money, so please don’t be offended.’

‘too late for that u piece of shit,’ said hawthorne out loud.

‘are u going to tell all, destroying your own reputation and the lives of your family in the process and have the fbi reopen all the other cases u and i have worked on? it could be that some guilty people are let out on the streets, u know. or are u going to keep quiet? either way i’ll remain a household name.

‘now that i’m dead it doesn’t matter to me if i’m famous of infamous,’ he shrugged. ‘of course, i could not bear for my fans to actually hear all this from my own lips. u remember mission impossible, don’t u?

thick acrid smoke started to waft from the recorder but hawthorne continued to stare at the snow-filled screen, unable to move.

he tried to comprehend what he had just seen, but found that his mind was a sea of memories. images from his past came to the surface - the moment vandersmissen had saved his life, his swearing in as an fbi agent, becoming a godfather to two of the people in the nearby room, the proud look his family gave him every day, the many cases he had worked on with his betrayer.

he absent-mindedly switched off the television and saw his faint reflection in the dark screen. what am I to do? he had not got a clue.

a single tear rolled down hawthorne’s face. as it made its erratic path down his lined features, it was mimicked by a unnoticed single drop of rain running down the outside of the window.

*

hawthorne woke up later that night, the images refusing to leave his mind. he stumbled silently in the dark to the bathroom and gazed into the wash basin as he turned on the strip-light above it, avoiding the sudden brightness. he turned on the tap and splashed cool, refreshing water over his face and looked himself in the mirror. dark hair was atop a smooth face.

‘FUCK!’

_________________

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Lidless
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Posted: Fri 04 Feb , 2005 3:57 am
Als u het leven te ernstig neemt, mist u de betekenis.
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THE END

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Nin
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Posted: Fri 04 Feb , 2005 3:28 pm
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Steeve... just no time... :(

Will you wait for a comment until I'm back in nine days?

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Lidless
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Posted: Fri 04 Feb , 2005 7:47 pm
Als u het leven te ernstig neemt, mist u de betekenis.
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No. I prefer you not to read it and give a critique.

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Areanor
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Posted: Sun 13 Feb , 2005 4:10 pm
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Steve, I just wanted to say, I got tired of staring at the screen so long.

I printed it and will read it when I'm not online.

Just in case you waited for a quick comment.

Though I second you, the Prologue isn't a hooker.

And one thing I stumbled over by scanning the print-out:

Did you misspell "Schwarzenegger" deliberately?

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Lidless
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Posted: Wed 16 Feb , 2005 12:17 am
Als u het leven te ernstig neemt, mist u de betekenis.
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Areanor wrote:
Did you misspell "Schwarzenegger" deliberately?
No. He did.

:oops:

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Rodia
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Posted: Wed 16 Feb , 2005 12:52 am
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I noticed that one too :p

Steve, I'll be in Lodz tomorrow and will type up the notes I put on the margins. :)

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Lidless
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Posted: Wed 16 Feb , 2005 12:31 pm
Als u het leven te ernstig neemt, mist u de betekenis.
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Thx. Please note that spelling mistakes are there to keep readers on their toes and to make them feel superior.

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Mummpizz
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Posted: Wed 16 Feb , 2005 1:31 pm
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One inmodest question: would you mind sending it as a doc or pdf file (pref. the later)?
tk0262@yahoo.com

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Lidless
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Posted: Wed 16 Feb , 2005 6:30 pm
Als u het leven te ernstig neemt, mist u de betekenis.
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Done (alas in .doc format)

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Areanor
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Posted: Thu 17 Feb , 2005 10:02 pm
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Steve.

You are the most conniving, dishonest, deceitful, duplicitous, Machiavellian fuck I've ever met. If I had a hat, I'd take it off to you.

Three things first, because they're not misspelling, but logical mistypes, IMHO.

chapter 16
"Harlow's team seems to think that if you being the assassin to justice...."
Shouldn't it read bring?

chapter 24
"So who knew about Leving, Sam?" he asked McConnell.....
Uhm, McConnell should be asking this, shouldn't he?

chapter 31
you explain here the difference between Take Out and Target.
Weird thing is that Take Out doesn't shoot, while Target gets to do more action than he can handle ;) So I think Target at one time should be replaced by Take Out.

Okay.
What about the rest? Do you want me to take it to e-mail or should I post here, creating spoilers for those who come in later?
Though I would love to read Rodia's and other's opinions - especially Prim's. :D

General opinion from over here:
It took me more time to print it out than to read it. :mrgreen: Due to the blasted printer that choose to swallow 10 sheets of paper when printing one page. :rage:
Shows that the story got me hooked, I think.
It was like reading a crossbred of Tom Clancy (without the boring tech details) and Jeffrey Archer (with all Twists in the Tales).
Loved it.

Though there were some.. ah I'll tell you later.

By the way, wouldn't this thread be better stored into Books? As we now have a Book Forum?

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Lidless
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Posted: Sat 19 Feb , 2005 2:21 am
Als u het leven te ernstig neemt, mist u de betekenis.
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Thanks for pointing those out. I'm sure there are many, many others.

I think if anyone gets this far in the thread they should have read the book my now, so post away spoilers and comments - good or bad. Putting the book here was a way of my learning, not merely trying to entertain.

Interesting choice of authors. I was aiming for Frederick Forsyth (detail), and Asimov (logical but unforeseen twists).

Glad you enjoyed it, but any more comparisons with Jeffrey Archer and I'm putting my head in the oven. I don't care if it's electric.

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Areanor
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Posted: Sun 20 Feb , 2005 11:35 pm
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TheLidlessEyes wrote:
Thanks for pointing those out. I'm sure there are many, many others.
At least these are the most obvious even a humble non-native speaker like me notices. :mrgreen:
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Interesting choice of authors. I was aiming for Frederick Forsyth (detail), and Asimov (logical but unforeseen twists).
Haven't read either of them, so I can't compare. :P

And sorry for mentioning Archer, I know he's ... ahem... well, dunno. Still I like his books and the way he twists a tale.

What left me gnawing for some days was the thought "Why the fuck didn't they ever look at
a) the size of the blank file
b) the bottom line in word where it says xxx signs / X pages whenever you open a document - blank font or not."
*shrugs* anyway - I count it for letting the reader feel superior.

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Mummpizz
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Posted: Thu 24 Feb , 2005 12:31 pm
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I read the first few pages and will continue until the war is won. You don't write an easy-to-read language, at least not for an old Kannitverstan like me, very modern.

But then, I had to format it down to 159 pages in order to make my printer capable of printing it - felt like that poor machine was going on a bike trip to Lithuania after bicycling to the parrish library every weekend only.

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Rodia
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Areanor, that's what I thought! I figured that they had and it was just too obvious to mention. But then my idea that the doc was blank proved to be right.

Steve, maybe the speech could be in a really really minuscule font? That way even a quick highlight would not make it obvious, the document would be one page long too.

And yes I know, I know I promised. I'll do it tonight. :P

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Rodia
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Okay, here it is! I decided not to include most of the style and spelling stuff. :P

I should make the excuse first, of being, as you know, a foreigner, and sometimes thinking that a perfectly correct sentence sounds awkward. I think you'll know where I'm mistaken. ;) And I made a lot of notes, not all of them particularly useful, but still.

I liked the book a lot because it sounded just like you. I mean, I could hear you typing it.

Here we go then.

There's a sentence in the Prologue that reads: 'As Aitken exited the building into the agreeable August evening the two agents, who had already scanned the streets and neighbouring buildings, assumed their stations on either side of him as he made his way to the dark blue Crown Victoria.' It feels awkward to me. The two 'as he' bits.

“With a welcoming bourbon already in his hand he opened the door only to see a lead pipe descend upon his skull” I like that simply because it sounds like a game of Cluedo. Did you do that on purpose?

“Most colleagues had thought that quantity was the benchmark and would churn out Thomas Hardy novels.” I just don't get this sentence at all... quantity would write Hardy novels? Wha?

You have a lot of witty remarks scattered through the book, and that's good because they make the reader laugh. But maybe there's just too many of them for the reader to feel comfortable. Little funny quotes like 'People don't have a fear of flying- it's crashing that terrifies them' for example are attributed to most of your characters, a lot of them say something like that at least once. Makes it feel too much like a sit-com. Limit such funnies to one character, make them his speciality, but don't use every opportunity you can to crack one of your personal jokes. When I read a book I don't want to be aware of the author, his presence distracts me from the story.

At times you flow like a movie, especially when your characters have to 'be professional'. I feel good with that. Probably because it triggers my imagination to bring up all these flicks about Washington I've seen, and since they're my only source of knowledge of how it all works, the association makes what you write seem credible and realistic.

Dr. Scarpetta made me piss my pants laughing because skarpeta means 'large sock' in Polish. Ahem.

The Helen Powell sequence made me giggle because it sounds a bit like you're playing out your fantasies. The way you describe her sounds like she'd really turn you on. No problem there, I've read a couple of books where you can see the drool on the pages where the author describes the opposite sex. Just be aware of that.

It seems like a cliché with her being such an agile thief, but then it turns out it was training and I'm going, whoa! cool. Incidentally, why is Helen Powell the name given to all female criminals in Hogan's Alley?

Felt sorry for Chuck the trainee, he got it all wrong that day. Was that intended or could you spread out the mistakes over the other students?
And, for my own benefit once again, what's the problem with the way Hollywood reads people their rights? I guess normal cops don't do that?

The secret but logical stuff in your book is damned interesting to read- like about the chemicals presidents use to keep themselves at full capacity during their duties. But I wonder here. Yours is the first book about the FBI and Washington etc that I've ever read. Would regular fans of such literature not be annoyed at being told things they already know? Or do they. Just musing here. I certainly enjoyed all that extra information and would be lost without it.

Oh, and I love your chapter mottos, they always fit so well. :D

What does it mean when something 'is in the ballpark'?

In some of your descriptions of the existing offices and buildings and rooms, you switch from past to present in a way that seems awkward to me. Like here:
“Jackson preferred to have breakfast and informal meetings in the Green Room. It was one of the many functions it had served throughout history. Over the years it has been used as a lodging room, a dining room, a sitting room and even a whist room in Monroe’s day. Most of the furnishings are from the early nineteenth century in a style that Thomas Sheraton would have approved. It derives its name, as does many of the White House rooms, from the color scheme Jackie Kennedy had chosen for it in ’62. It was adjoined to the Blue Room. The rather garish green watered-silk fabric that covered the walls was the first thing to strike Hawthorne as its door opened..” It just skips back and forth very often in such passages and I wonder if that was intended. Sounds odd to me, like you're quoting chunks from a brochure or your own notes on the subject, instead of melting it into the narrative.

Here's a big gripe I have. Kinney says upon seeing Aitken's body: “My specialty is drugs enforcement and I've seen some pretty horrific killings and desecrations in my time, but nothing like this, nothing even remotely like this.”
Steve, the movie detectives ALWAYS say that! And it never sounds real. What, so he's seen horrific desecrations, but never anything worse than a man with his toes cut off and pushed into his orifices? I find that very hard to believe, and I expect anyone who goes to the movies will too. It takes away all the impact from your description of the body. Let the reader take it in by himself, without being prompted to think that this is the most gruesome murder ever- because most likely, he will have seen Silence of the Lambs or Seven or your choice of a gory crime thriller and will just laugh, and think you very old fashioned.

Olive Grant rocks my socks. :D

Okay. On page 64, that's when the team are assembled and have been given their tasks, I made the following comment: “So far the beginning felt like an essential rulebook patchwork, but it flows well now.” What I meant by that was that up until the team got together you were setting up the scene for your players. Nothing wrong with that, but obviously I felt like it was a bit too jagged, like perhaps you were giving too many chunks of different information, that it felt more like a list of rules one must strive to memorise than an introduction to your book's world. It's all necessary to understand the rest of the book, and you shouldn't leave anything out- but perhaps it could be strung together more smoothly. I have no suggestions how, unfortunately, but this is probably my own taste speaking, and not a flaw in your book.

I felt outraged at Dennison's heartless cleaning out of Aitken's office. This alone was enough to make me dislike the man- perhaps the only thing needed. He shows a lot of self-conceited arseholeness later on, and I wonder if that isn't too much. It makes Aitken look like a saint by contrast, and that's a bit cliché- good man died, bad man takes over. I want to dislike Dennison but believe that he was a man who knows how to do the job he has. Enough that he's unpleasant, don't need to make him seem incompetent as well.

Now this is part gripe part praise.
“What was that mysterious phone call and the two guests late at night?” asked McConnell.
“It turned out to be nothing. Sorry to disappoint.”shrugged Hawthorne.
Later on I find out that his answer was deliberate- that he needed to cover up for Aitken. But I just don't believe any serious agent would accept an 'Oh it was nothing' answer to a question about what could be an important clue. Sure, they trust Hawthorne as their leader, but they're FBI agents! They're supposed to trust no one fully. Hawthorne has to make up some sort of fake answer to that question. On the margin next to that I wrote “WTF? That's not fair, I wanna know!!” See, my curiosity was sparked, and the reward was finding out later. But I can bet the other agents would want to know too and would find his laconic answer suspicious. They'd either demand a more serious answer, or pursue the lead in secret. Otherwise they're pretty poor agents. When Donovan is later described to have 'something nagging at her subconscious' I thought it was Hawthorne's answer you meant. No, I just can't believe they'd let it go like that.

Miller reminds of of Michael Moore. Hehe.

Chapter 12 has a lot of sex in it. No, no problem with that.

The airport joke, 'Does anybody know the fat man at the front of the queue? He seems to have forgotten his name.' is funny but ooooold...so old. I'd lose it. Besides, I think the clerk would scramble to disconnect the mike without waiting to hear what Hawthorne had to say. Stuff like that only works in the movies.

I went 'Ah maaaaaaan' when you decided to dismiss Kinney, but it's a score. Good writing.

Now, Harlow's speech. I'm not familiar with US politics but at least to me it seems too aggressive. But maybe that's how it should be.

“I demand that you put a hundred more agents on this at once” ordered the President.
This sounds unrealistic and makes the President look like a fool. And I don't think you were writing him as a fool. If he's seriously giving an order, why not make it more precise? Let him demand what he really thinks is the proper way to solve this, not yell out 'a hundred agents' like a childish emperor.

Now, Woodburn. I know you wanted to make him as hateful a little worm as possible, but, even Grima was no idiot. This guy should not just be a bastard, but a careful bastard! Harlow and him make too picture perfect a team of 'bad guys'. Again, unpleasant doesn't have to equal incompetent. Give them a little more credit. Or at least give Harlow more credit... They just feel like the baddies in cartoons, a Dark Lord who gloats too much and his eager idiot of a servant.

Shack Attack is painful...they wouldn't name a movie that nowadays...Price of Loyalty or something, but not Shack Attack.....

Now....the bomb in the bin. As far as I know, real bombs don't have timers! I cringe every time they do that in movies... it seems like the most ridiculous thing to do, to put a timer on an explosive. If you plant it, you KNOW when it will go off.
Unless I'm completely off, and the watch was just a necessary part of the bomb needed to time it off. But even so, putting it in full view smacks of cheap suspense.

And explain to me, how exactly did he disarm it?

The party. Very nice, except the bit where Hawthorne's parents try and talk through to Walsh is...hmm...no offense...a bit too Hallmark. Especially Maggie. She's too rehearsed. Doesn't feel authentic. No wonder Walsh didn't listen.

You do mix up Target and Take Out at some point. ;) I was very confused.

As to the ending... well you already know that like most people, I didn't get it. Not sure what you can do about that. I got a kick out of the doubt anyway.

Overall, like I told you over the phone already, I like that you're not preaching your theories. The book has a respect for believers that, to be honest, I didn't expect to see in it. You don't push your point of view forward by making the other side look bad, and that's admirable. I appreciate that a lot.
Now, as to Aitken's speech...I told you already that it had no effect on me. I knew it was something that would shock the voters, but it didn't feel all that blasphemous. To be honest...and I know this is your own speech too, so don't take offense- but it felt a bit like a paranoid man talking about conspiracy theories. In short, more like 'what's he on about' than 'Heaven help us, he's the Antichrist.' I think you should put more power into it. As it is, I'm afraid it will make an impact only on those who share your point of view already. You should try and sow doubt in the minds of those who believe in God. In The Brothers Karamazov, Dostojewski had Ivan Karamazov tell a long, blasphemous story to his monk brother Alosha. When I read it I knew that Ivan had thought about this long, that this was in a way his torment, that his conclusions had not come easy. When a man decides to kill God, he obviously isn't immune to the belief. Why bother killing a being insignificant to you? As it is the speech is just not convincing enough.

Review that book and get it published.

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Lidless
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Posted: Fri 25 Feb , 2005 2:10 pm
Als u het leven te ernstig neemt, mist u de betekenis.
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Thanks Ro!!!!
Quote:
There's a sentence in the Prologue that reads: 'As Aitken exited the building into the agreeable August evening the two agents, who had already scanned the streets and neighbouring buildings, assumed their stations on either side of him as he made his way to the dark blue Crown Victoria.' It feels awkward to me. The two 'as he' bits.
Agreed.
Quote:
“With a welcoming bourbon already in his hand he opened the door only to see a lead pipe descend upon his skull” I like that simply because it sounds like a game of Cluedo. Did you do that on purpose?
Yes.
Quote:
“Most colleagues had thought that quantity was the benchmark and would churn out Thomas Hardy novels.” I just don't get this sentence at all... quantity would write Hardy novels? Wha?
Hardy would spend an entire page saying that a guy looked at his watch.
Quote:
You have a lot of witty remarks scattered through the book, and that's good because they make the reader laugh. But maybe there's just too many of them for the reader to feel comfortable. Little funny quotes like 'People don't have a fear of flying- it's crashing that terrifies them' for example are attributed to most of your characters, a lot of them say something like that at least once. Makes it feel too much like a sit-com. Limit such funnies to one character, make them his speciality, but don't use every opportunity you can to crack one of your personal jokes. When I read a book I don't want to be aware of the author, his presence distracts me from the story.
You have a damned good point.
Quote:
At times you flow like a movie, especially when your characters have to 'be professional'. I feel good with that. Probably because it triggers my imagination to bring up all these flicks about Washington I've seen, and since they're my only source of knowledge of how it all works, the association makes what you write seem credible and realistic.
Thanks.
Quote:
Dr. Scarpetta made me piss my pants laughing because skarpeta means 'large sock' in Polish. Ahem.
I presume Patricia Cornwall's books sell well there.
Quote:
The Helen Powell sequence made me giggle because it sounds a bit like you're playing out your fantasies. The way you describe her sounds like she'd really turn you on. No problem there, I've read a couple of books where you can see the drool on the pages where the author describes the opposite sex. Just be aware of that.

It seems like a cliché with her being such an agile thief, but then it turns out it was training and I'm going, whoa! cool. Incidentally, why is Helen Powell the name given to all female criminals in Hogan's Alley?
Having her as the 'perfect female' was deliberate so as to perhaps tip the reader off that she wouldn't be a real thief. Perfect women like that are looked after one way or another. As to how Helen Powell got her name, no one is quite sure.
Quote:
Felt sorry for Chuck the trainee, he got it all wrong that day. Was that intended or could you spread out the mistakes over the other students?
Personification.
Quote:
The secret but logical stuff in your book is damned interesting to read- like about the chemicals presidents use to keep themselves at full capacity during their duties. But I wonder here. Yours is the first book about the FBI and Washington etc that I've ever read. Would regular fans of such literature not be annoyed at being told things they already know? Or do they. Just musing here. I certainly enjoyed all that extra information and would be lost without it.
One reason the Fredrick Forsyth books are so popular is because of the research he does and the fact the reader thinks that they are learning secret stuff. As to what readers already know, well I tried to include stuff that I at least had never read anywhere before.
Quote:
What does it mean when something 'is in the ballpark'?
"Approximately correct."
Quote:
In some of your descriptions of the existing offices and buildings and rooms, you switch from past to present in a way that seems awkward to me.
Agreed. I seem to have had a problem with that for some obscure reason.
Quote:
Here's a big gripe I have. Kinney says upon seeing Aitken's body: “My specialty is drugs enforcement and I've seen some pretty horrific killings and desecrations in my time, but nothing like this, nothing even remotely like this.”
Steve, the movie detectives ALWAYS say that!
Agreed.
Quote:
Olive Grant rocks my socks. :D
Totally in the style of Forsyth.
Quote:
Okay. On page 64, that's when the team are assembled and have been given their tasks, I made the following comment: “So far the beginning felt like an essential rulebook patchwork, but it flows well now.” What I meant by that was that up until the team got together you were setting up the scene for your players. Nothing wrong with that, but obviously I felt like it was a bit too jagged, like perhaps you were giving too many chunks of different information, that it felt more like a list of rules one must strive to memorise than an introduction to your book's world. It's all necessary to understand the rest of the book, and you shouldn't leave anything out- but perhaps it could be strung together more smoothly. I have no suggestions how, unfortunately, but this is probably my own taste speaking, and not a flaw in your book.
No, you're right. It's the Council Of Elrond scene, but written in a clunky style.
Quote:
I felt outraged at Dennison's heartless cleaning out of Aitken's office. This alone was enough to make me dislike the man- perhaps the only thing needed. He shows a lot of self-conceited arseholeness later on, and I wonder if that isn't too much. It makes Aitken look like a saint by contrast, and that's a bit cliché- good man died, bad man takes over. I want to dislike Dennison but believe that he was a man who knows how to do the job he has. Enough that he's unpleasant, don't need to make him seem incompetent as well.
Characterization of the bad guys / idiots are a problem in the book. As mentioned in another post - it's cliched and to a degree cartoonish. The only bad guy I think I wrote well was Harlow's assistant, who slowly slipped into the mire.
Quote:
Now this is part gripe part praise.
“What was that mysterious phone call and the two guests late at night?” asked McConnell....No, I just can't believe they'd let it go like that.
Agreed.
Quote:
The airport joke, 'Does anybody know the fat man at the front of the queue? He seems to have forgotten his name.' is funny but ooooold...so old. I'd lose it. Besides, I think the clerk would scramble to disconnect the mike without waiting to hear what Hawthorne had to say. Stuff like that only works in the movies.
Consider it cut.
Quote:
“I demand that you put a hundred more agents on this at once” ordered the President. This sounds unrealistic and makes the President look like a fool.
Agreed.
Quote:
Now, Woodburn. I know you wanted to make him as hateful a little worm as possible, but, even Grima was no idiot. This guy should not just be a bastard, but a careful bastard! Harlow and him make too picture perfect a team of 'bad guys'. Again, unpleasant doesn't have to equal incompetent. Give them a little more credit. Or at least give Harlow more credit... They just feel like the baddies in cartoons, a Dark Lord who gloats too much and his eager idiot of a servant.
Woodburn was a town. Who do you mean?
Quote:
Now....the bomb in the bin. As far as I know, real bombs don't have timers! I cringe every time they do that in movies... it seems like the most ridiculous thing to do, to put a timer on an explosive. If you plant it, you KNOW when it will go off.

Unless I'm completely off, and the watch was just a necessary part of the bomb needed to time it off. But even so, putting it in full view smacks of cheap suspense.

And explain to me, how exactly did he disarm it?
Well, the watch was covered over. It was disarmed by short-fusing the circuitry with liquid. As to showing the timer etc, if you remember the epilogue, you'll realize that they were supposed to find the bomb and were supposed to defuse it.
Quote:
The party. Very nice, except the bit where Hawthorne's parents try and talk through to Walsh is...hmm...no offense...a bit too Hallmark. Especially Maggie. She's too rehearsed. Doesn't feel authentic. No wonder Walsh didn't listen.
Maggie I need to work on. This whole scene was about my adoption and my slowly coming to terms with it.
Quote:
As to the ending... well you already know that like most people, I didn't get it. Not sure what you can do about that. I got a kick out of the doubt anyway.
The last paragraph needs a re-write. No one gets it.
Quote:
Now, as to Aitken's speech...I told you already that it had no effect on me. I knew it was something that would shock the voters, but it didn't feel all that blasphemous...I think you should put more power into it. As it is, I'm afraid it will make an impact only on those who share your point of view already....As it is the speech is just not convincing enough.
You're probably right. I'm too close to that speech to know myself.
Quote:
Review that book and get it published.
Yes, mam!

PS - Just read Deception Point by Dan Brown that came out a year or two ago. Quite a few similarities...

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Rodia
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Posted: Fri 25 Feb , 2005 2:45 pm
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Yikes.
I might have skimmed too fast...ahem...woodburn...sorry bout that, I meant the reporter guy for Harlow.

Man I hope i didnt annoy you too much with all of this.

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Lidless
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Posted: Fri 25 Feb , 2005 8:22 pm
Als u het leven te ernstig neemt, mist u de betekenis.
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Aah - Woodthorpe.

Well, a perfect description of an old boss of mine - both physically and in attitude. A very minor character for sure, but yeah, he could do with less characature.

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