The Video Watchdog is a Terrific Writer of Fiction!

I’ve been reading Tim Lucas ever since the first issue of his influential magazine “Video Watchdog.” It was VW that established the gold standard for film research, ferreting out the differences between various releases or edits of movies, resulting in the Special Editions, Director’s Cuts, bonus material and audio commentaries we now take for granted. Tim has always written about film with eloquence, precision, and a deep understanding of the creative process and the workings of the human mind and heart. So, I should not have been as surprised as I was when he brought that same eloquence and insight into the first work of fiction that I’ve read by him (following two previous novels which I’ve managed to miss), the brief but intense novella “The Secret Life of Love Songs,” written in the first person form of a lecture by a rock musician about his encounter and relationship with a woman he identifies as The Westside Girl and how it affects his currently stalled creative process. This is an emotionally satisfying look at how a mature person reacts to temptation, how a desirous heart can be channeled in a positive way, told with the same knowledge and insight that Tim has brought to his film writing for decades. Each character, no matter how small, is a clearly defined, recognizable person, and the songs The Lecturer performs during his presentation feel precisely right for each moment. (There is a “soundtrack” CD accompanying the book). It’s a moving, naturally suspenseful, and often funny book. (I laughed out loud in recognition at what The Lecturer’s wife refers to as his penchant for “sullen brunettes.”) This will be joining the small, eclectic group of books I will read a second time, which includes Mary Shelley’s “Frankenstein,” Larry McMurtry’s “Lonesome Dove” and Michael Chabon’s “The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay,” and I eagerly anticipate reading Tim’s forthcoming “The Man With the Kaleidoscope Eyes.”

So Much in a Small Package

I’ve been reading Tim Lucas ever since the first issue of his influential magazine “Video Watchdog.” It was VW that established the gold standard for film research, ferreting out the differences between various releases or edits of movies, resulting in the Special Editions, Director’s Cuts, bonus material and audio commentaries we now take for granted. Tim has always written about film with eloquence, precision, and a deep understanding of the creative process and the workings of the human mind and heart. So, I should not have been as surprised as I was when he brought that same eloquence and insight into the first work of fiction that I’ve read by him (following two previous novels which I’ve managed to miss), the brief but intense novella “The Secret Life of Love Songs,” written in the first person form of a lecture by a rock musician about his encounter and relationship with a woman he identifies as The Westside Girl and how it affects his currently stalled creative process. This is an emotionally satisfying look at how a mature person reacts to temptation, how a desirous heart can be channeled in a positive way, told with the same knowledge and insight that Tim has brought to his film writing for decades. Each character, no matter how small, is a clearly defined, recognizable person, and the songs The Lecturer performs during his presentation feel precisely right for each moment. (There is a “soundtrack” CD accompanying the book). It’s a moving, naturally suspenseful, and often funny book. (I laughed out loud in recognition at what The Lecturer’s wife refers to as his penchant for “sullen brunettes.”) This will be joining the small, eclectic group of books I will read a second time, which includes Mary Shelley’s “Frankenstein,” Larry McMurtry’s “Lonesome Dove” and Michael Chabon’s “The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay,” and I eagerly anticipate reading Tim’s forthcoming “The Man With the Kaleidoscope Eyes.”

So Much in Such a Small Package

I’ve been reading Tim Lucas ever since the first issue of his influential magazine “Video Watchdog.” It was VW that established the gold standard for film research, ferreting out the differences between various releases or edits of movies, resulting in the Special Editions, Director’s Cuts, bonus material and audio commentaries we now take for granted. Tim has always written about film with eloquence, precision, and a deep understanding of the creative process and the workings of the human mind and heart. So, I should not have been as surprised as I was when he brought that same eloquence and insight into the first work of fiction that I’ve read by him (following two previous novels which I’ve managed to miss), the brief but intense novella “The Secret Life of Love Songs,” written in the first person form of a lecture by a rock musician about his encounter and relationship with a woman he identifies as The Westside Girl and how it affects his currently stalled creative process. This is an emotionally satisfying look at how a mature person reacts to temptation, how a desirous heart can be channeled in a positive way, told with the same knowledge and insight that Tim has brought to his film writing for decades. Each character, no matter how small, is a clearly defined, recognizable person, and the songs The Lecturer performs during his presentation feel precisely right for each moment. (There is a “soundtrack” CD accompanying the book). It’s a moving, naturally suspenseful, and often funny book. (I laughed out loud in recognition at what The Lecturer’s wife refers to as his penchant for “sullen brunettes.”) This will be joining the small, eclectic group of books I will read a second time, which includes Mary Shelley’s “Frankenstein,” Larry McMurtry’s “Lonesome Dove” and Michael Chabon’s “The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay,” and I eagerly anticipate reading Tim’s forthcoming “The Man With the Kaleidoscope Eyes.”