Dru, Steinbeck and the Book of Deer

Dear Juliet You're not ditzy. Queenly, perhaps, but that didn't rhyme with dear and I wanted to remind you that you don't have to be perfect to be loved. I always thought you were quiet, cute and sweet. There. So I'm due to get pummelled by the osteopath this afternoon, back on the job tomorrow, physio on the 11th and a victory lap at New Cross sometime. My leave's between 24th August-11th September, not sure if I'm going anywhere, such is life. How are you doing? Looking for a subject... So your uncle worked for Mattel? I've been there. January 2024 in L.A., and my back had locked up over that nerve again. The osteopath had freed it but I wasn't in great shape. However he gave me some of the best advice I've ever had, which was to exercise and walk. So I made it on and off the plane, got into a sterile Travelodge south of Sepulveda, rolled painfully out of bed in the morning and walked across to the Metro at Mariposa. And I found I was walking right...

Dear Juliet I've got a cushion under my lower back so the pain's not too bad today. I also tried to go to church and light an urgent candle for you but it's overrun by kids (oh, the little darlings!) and we're all locked out... So I'm just left with a lingering worry (and a good shot of the church), plus my ongoing commitment to not leaving you in the lurch. In that regard: If you need more advice like the Scott Allie seminar, I'm waiting here on the wire . It's pretty simple stuff, actually, if a bit stark. If you'd like the updated versions of the Dru Quartet in case you ever do that table read, I can send them to you. In most cases, I just made microscopic grammatical corrections, but Graveyard needed a bit more exposition and the date of its setting had to be moved from 2032 to late 2019 (just before the Covid-19 pandemic). P.S. you can have the author, too! And no, I'm not angling to get your email address. There's just no other way to do ...

Dear Juliet I hope you liked reading all those blogs last night, but I guess a situation may be on your mind. Okay, I'm listening; and I remember the time I gave you advice about Scott Allie. I can help you again if you'd like, but I can't proffer it against your will. Over here, the sciatica's still painful but I had a good afternoon out with friends at the Bell and Tong and also got an invite out for tonight. I'll try bravely to hobble over. But where does that leave me and thee? Sitting in the catbird seat , perhaps? I'm not sure. I get the feeling - and it's only a feeling - that you're near a turning point, a breakthrough, maybe a moment of clarity? Well, if you are, I'm watching out for you. Mind you, though, the darn ringer on my smartphone never seems to work too well... But I'll keep an eye and ear out for you, come what may. I suppose, separately or together, we're sitting in the catbird seat. But if that's the case please alway...

Dear Juliet Some of the titles that occur to me... Anyway, don't worry, I'm only going to mention the middle one. Every now and then, a muscle in my lower back clenches up over the sciatic nerve. The result is painful and I'm seeing the osteopath on Friday. So it goes, as Vonnegut says. I know things are maybe a bit heavy for you at the moment, and it probably feels quite a lot worse than a trapped nerve. But I'm listening as you read this in the deeps of the night, if my guess is right. I hope you're okay. Perhaps this is the thing to say:  The longer you leave a trapped nerve, the less chance things will indeed be okay. Time after time over the past seven years, I found that tomorrow might well be another day, but it's best not to postpone any reckoning 'til a time far away. It's rarely as bad as you think if you face up to it at dawn rather than dusk. Leave it too long and it gets locked in place like a husk, harder to wrench free and loosen up. Like...

Dear Juliet I think the best thing today is just to say in a low-key way that (apart from London 18th-20th August) I'll be around. Doing this blog is the highlight of my day. I've done some of my best writing for years and if I can find an old poem deeply buried within the original emails I'll show it to you, if I may. I just finished that year long course of pills. Took a good look at the last one before it went down. They should leach out of my system shortly, I'm clear of cancer and hope to do a few calls later this week. In the meantime, I'll take a walk round Shifnal shortly and see what's working. I'm running a bit low on pictures of Point Lobos, but I can use stock images and there's no hurry anyway. Tomorrow is another day. I always liked writing to you. I hope I can do it, day by day. I think that's what I wanted to say. Anyway, I'll keep an eye out for the Tartt at Pordes, look for a way to destabilise the UK government again (favour fo...

Dear Juliet Three themes for today: regeneration, the TARDIS and Point Lobos. So: Okay, that was odd. Apparently, the pills were a marathon which I miraculously cruised through apart from this momentary snap at the end. Two pills to go and then I am done. And it actually feels like I just regenerated ... It was subtle, but a bit like everything just sharpened up a bit and my perceptions cleared... I guess that thirty-five year-old blood of mine did the trick, brought me back. And you're still reading about Point Lobos? Well, I once did the first five chapters of an unpublished novel called "I'm In Marsport Without..." , included time travel and set it at the Point. Nobody bit, but here's an extract: "The sky was stone cold blue, and it didn’t look friendly because it wasn’t. California Highway 1 looked like the usual flat black ribbon of tarmac, which it was; and there was I, stoned out of my mind, sitting on a petrified tree log just south of Point Lobos, wo...

Dear Juliet I borrowed the title from an old British film , but I don't think the convention was invaded by German troops ( Gorns , maybe) and that you'll live to fight another day. I'm hoping this fatigue of mine won't last too long, and a trip to the physiotherapist and osteopath should ease off that twinge in my back. Then it looks like there will be one last walk to New Cross after all. My doctor had suggested either one final telephone call or an actual appointment so I decided to be sociable. So, as I can't think too creatively at the moment, that's my news. But I'm going to London again 18th-20th August, I'll get you a few more photographs and see if I bump into the King. Since there isn't much to say today (I don't think you'd be interested in a picture of my filing cabinet), I'll just dip into my archives and tell you an old story about you, me and Jim from the NAS. Some time around 2012 or so, Jim asked me if the email correspon...

Dear Juliet I'd better just mention that, after eleven-and-a-half months with virtually no side-effects from the Trametinib and Dabrafenib pills I'm on, they're knocking me for six at the last. They're finishing up on Sunday but it looks like I'll be horizontal until then, which is a depressing subject for a blog. However, they'll be finished and I'm clear of cancer, which is better news. So I suppose the way I'd work today's words is this: You were still worth me dragging myself to my desk to punch out these few short words; and I felt an odd twinge of worry the other day, wondering whether you'd be okay at the convention. I'm worrying about nothing, I suppose. Have a good con! Sorry, I gotta go collapse! Love, James

Dear Juliet Just a quick one to wish you luck at the San Diego comic-con. Got that usual twinge of worry a little earlier, but I'm sure everything will be fine. Well, doing so again reminds me of that long and joyful period in 2011 or so when I wished you luck for Danny and the Deep Blue Sea . Good run and great reviews... Have a good con! Love, James

Dear Juliet I hope San Diego's comic-con won't be too overwhelming for you. Admittedly, I do know well you've done it before . Too much light and sound and furore can break down an Asperger and cause a meltdown. However, all that really means is that our ability to cope with all this input is less than yours. Or in other words, we'll just crack up first . I got pitched into so many stressful situations that I think I developed a hard-won resistance to all the sound and fury, but I can't filter out extraneous noise so if it gets too loud, I go deaf. Some arenas are bigger than others, too; and I understand San Diego is pretty massive. Homo Sapiens Mark One was never designed to cope with all this. I once heard that in one day, we have to cope with as much information as a caveman did in his entire life. So it can easily become overwhelming, but I'm sure there will be chill-out zones and water aplenty available. It's a bit of a grind, though. For us fans, too....

Dear Juliet As I've just had a physiotherapist pounding my back with a mallet (okay, slight exaggeration there), I don't feel up to a long post today; but as you're going to San Diego  (not Scarborough Fair !) I'll make you a cambric shirt of memory from the early days of you, me, Dear Miss Landau and the comic-cons... London, late 2010. I'm carrying the divine statuette, I've been in the gym (boxing and otherwise) for six months and the shuttle's flying into Heathrow. I'm very nervous, but as we come into land I notice that thinking of you gives me a little extra edge when I'm writing. I guess you're my muse. I stay with a difficult friend in Muswell Hill, circuit towards Heathrow's Renaissance Hotel via Covent Garden and the Underground. There's some jam in Covent Garden so I take the emergency spiral staircase, statuette in hand... 193 steps. I want to get you a rose, and learn there's actually a flower seller in Leicester Square...

Dear Juliet Just one thing bothering me, so I'll say it once and say it quick: If you do go for that table read, please know that you're under my protection (I am the author of all that stuff, after all), and if anyone even thinks of giving you a hard time, you simply explain that James will not then comply. You are my dear Miss Landau after all, and that's all there is to it. There. It's actually a bit like this wonderful scene in Rocky II ... I guess I'm Mickey. Marvellous actor, Burgess Meredith. A trainer always has to love his fighter. To paraphrase Mickey, I don't think you were lucky just that one time with Buffy . I think you're a hell of a lot more than that, but I'll stand with you whatever you decide to do and that's the beginning and end of it. Okay, that's all I wanted to say. Relax. Have some Ben & Jerry's. Love, James

Deer Juliet I'm still somewhat influenced by that I Play Rocky trailer, and there is one pretty exact analogy: I was never willing to sell out. Some well-meaning friends suggested I change the names in the Dru Quartet, some well-meaning friends now sleep with the fishes. Well, no they don't but I just ain't gonna. I love my dear old Dru and that is true, but the moments and interplay as they stand could only take place between Spike, Dru and Xander. That's just how it is. I wrote about once in this old HuffPost blog . Anyway, that's it. Just thought I'd say so, get it off my chest. It's a healthy thing to do. Okay, on other matters I had to go to somewhere called Much Wenlock the other day. I found out there's an ancient historic priory there (the house next door is owned by the former actress Gabrielle Drake ) which sounds vaguely similar to the original Monastery of Deer. They both have the remains of libraries, although I called the one at Deer the ...

  Dear Juliet I'm probably going to be shot at dawn for this (and I'm really not a morning person...) but I thought you'd like this metaphorical bouquet from Bridgnorth! I didn't really have the stuffing to climb up to the High Town again and, walking over the bridge, noticed these beautiful flower baskets. I lined up a couple of shots, I hope you like your flowers. I really liked doing that. You're really worth it. Love, James

Dear Juliet I found this one hour spiritual travelogue about Point Lobos the other day. It begins at Gibson Beach, I'm pleased to say. I hope you'll enjoy it. I'd write more, but I have to do the ironing... Remember, you don't have to be perfect to be liked, and I like you just the way you are. Even when you're doing the ironing! Love, James

Dear Juliet Maybe I'm being a bit self-indulgent, but I just saw the trailer for I Play Rocky and it gave rise to a few mushy thoughts... Back in the days of Dear Miss Landau , it did seem like I was washed-up . I'd taken the literary beating of all time about Macnab in 2009 and, creatively exhausted, I shelved it. Then, for a bit of fun, I thought I'd write a short story about a certain character in Buffy . It was maybe a bit like suddenly getting a shot at the title. Hollywood royalty and one of the greatest IPs in the world. It takes a while for heavyweights to hit peak form, and I had no idea that grinding away chiefly on Macnab for twelve or thirteen years had beaten my neural networks into top shape. As Dear Miss Landau  and New Scientist explained: “It seems you have to put in at least a decade of focused work to master something and bring greatness within reach ...  both the number and strength of the nerve connections associated with a memory or skill increase ...

Dear Juliet I hope you enjoy the upcoming convention in San Diego. I think you reread The Glorious 14th , amongst a few others? Well, it's all up to you (see Timshel and the Big Toe ) but I could send you the updated Dru Quartet if you'd like? Graveyard has had some modifications and exposition. Actually, there's no one else on the planet I'd send them to... Anyway: Love, James

 Dear Juliet Are you okay, J? Are you scared the shoe's going to drop? No, it won't. It's okay. Well, I have to work tonight and tomorrow night (Monday-Tuesday) but a substantial portion of my day is usually free and I usually carry my smartphone with me. I think you remember my email address... Take care, and God bless. Love, James

Dear Juliet I don't know if the emotional floodgates are opening, although it's quite likely. Yes, there are worse solutions than Ben & Jerry's. I think I'll get through one myself tonight. It's absolutely normal sometimes to feel the need to sob your guts out, and I think it would be/has been very good for you. How are you feeling now? I just filed photographs all afternoon and I have three calls this evening, might dance in the street again afterwards! Not quite like opening an emotional floodgate, but it's healthy. You'll be on my mind. There's nothing wrong with having eyes red-rimmed from crying, it's just part of who you are. You don't have to be perfect. Even Gene Kelly occasionally missed a step! I'll check in and see if there's been any activity on the blog when I get back tonight. Probably about 3.00 pm your time. Everything will be okay. Love, James

Dear Juliet I see you read a few blogs last night? Well, if you're having a bit of a crisis don't worry, I'm here. And as Frasier Crane would say, "I'm listening." It's all right. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere. Everyone has these two o'clock in the morning moments; where reality crashes in and you feel like the wreck of the Hesperus , storm-tossed amidst heaving seas. I'm not too bad myself, but I usually feel pretty grouchy and hopeless in the mornings. This too shall pass. Have a hug: 🤗 It's actually been a slow news day here, so I was thinking of showing you a few old shots from Needles in Death Valley. That segued on to thoughts of whether you might retire from a declining Hollywood and buy a flat in Primrose Hill, but I won't dwell on that. So: 1) You've got my contact details if you need to unload (reminds me of that time you were being overwhelmed by moths and spiders in London in 2011 and we spent half the nigh...