Castle: "After Hours"

By Michael Seese

With all apologies to the Monty Python players, this episode of Castle was defined one chief thing: tension. Tension, and an overriding sense of doom. TWO things: tension, and an overriding sense of doom. And claustrophobia. Three! Three things....

I really enjoyed "After Hours," because it was a radical departure from the norm. Beckett and Castle, usually the hunters, became the hunted. As I've said before, yes, we all know they're going to get out of it. Still, I was on the edge of my seat. This entire episode reminded me a lot of the last five minutes of "3XK," when Castle realizes that he's alone in a motel room (Ryan having been knocked out) with the killer. And in both cases, a carefully worded phone conversation served as the SOS.

 I'll admit to be taken completely by surprise when it was revealed that Leo was the killer, and a smart criminal to boot. If I may pat myself a little on the back, I did figure it out when FBI Agent Lucas said Dolan was not the bad guy, but rather a state witness; but that was about 30 seconds before Leo revealed himself.

Two bits of insight I will take credit for: when Castle said, "It's a Vatican conspiracy," I knew a Da Vinci Code reference was coming; likewise, when Castle started tinkering with the CB radio, I knew the word "MacGyver" would follow.

Along those lines, a few other noteworthy lines included:

Castle: "How about we dive into this dessert? Because honestly that death thing is sounding pretty good right now."

Castle: "I'm just saying there have been worse dinners."
Beckett: "Like what?"
Castle: "Well, the dining scene from Alien comes to mind."

Ryan: "Catholic school is like combat. Unless you've been there, you don't know." (I've heard a lot of people say that.)

Castle: "Dude. Where's your car?"

They even gave one to Leo: "I may be safer outside."

Above and beyond mere "looks" were scenes full of looks: the entire dinner party; Beckett's and Castle's bickering after the dinner party; and Ryan's body language from merely thinking about -- let alone being in the presence of -- a nun.

My only picky little complaint: Castle's speech to Dolan about not shooting Leo being what Father McMurtry would have wanted was nice and touchy-feely; a more direct disincentive would have been Beckett saying, "I'm a cop. If you shoot him in cold blood, I have to arrest you for murder."

All in all, though, I thought this was a great episode. Next week's looks to be a little lighter.

Feel free to share your opinion of "After Hours."

Reading 'Riting & Research

One of the aspects of writing that I truly enjoy is the research. I really do like getting my facts straight. Looking at it from a positive side, if I toss out an interesting and intriguing tidbit, it might prompt a reader to do some research as well, and learn something in the process. Looking at it from the paranoid side, I maintain this lingering fear that if I blatantly fabricate something--even if it's a really obscure factoid--someone, somewhere will say, "That's not how it works!"

That's one of the reasons that I admire Dan Brown. Whether or not you like his novels, you have to appreciate the amount of research that went into in Da Vinci Code and more so into Angels & Demons. When reading the latter, I pictured the author walking the streets of Rome, head down, looking for obscure, ancient markings in the sidewalk. It's staggering, if you really stop to analyze it.

Likewise, in one of the short stories of my book-in-progress No Strings Attached, the main character has a skydiving equipment malfunction. (I don't think I'm giving anything away; it's revealed on page 2 or so.) So I did a little basic research:

- At what altitude does a skydiver jump from a plane?
- How far and for how long does one fall before pulling the rip cord?
- If the parachute fails, how long does it take to hit ground?

Not exactly in the same ballpark as Mr. Brown's work. But you get the idea.

And sometimes, I learn something...interesting.

In a previous post, I wrote about a short story that I just completed, "Never Mind The Nonsense, Here’s The Sex Truncheons." The name, of course, is a play on the Sex Pistols. I wanted to come up with a weapon that was appropriate for Victorian-era London. Then it hit me (pun intended) that London Bobbies were famous for not carrying guns, but rather batons. So I turned to Wikipedia, and learned that a truncheon or baton also is called a cosh, Paddy wacker, billystick, billy club, nightstick, sap, blackjack, stick.

That kind of sheds new light on the old nursery rhyme...

This old man, he played one,
He played knick-knack on my thumb;
Knick-knack paddywhack,
Give a dog a bone,
This old man came rolling home.

...doesn't it?