Whether you love happy endings or a dark reality in TV dramas,you could soon be able to decide what you get. Netflix,the TV-streaming company behind hit shows such as The Crown and House Of Cards,is working on ways to give viewers control of key plot decisions.

    Some of the storylines will be simple and linear,like the Choose Your Own Adventure books that many grew up with.For example,viewers might decide whether a prisoner in the drama Orange Is The New Black joins a gang (黑帮) or not.

    The technology could also potentially be used to allow Princess Margaret to marry Peter Townsend in The Crown,instead of having her relationship with the divorcee (离婚者) blocked by the Establishment.Other storylines will be much more complex,allowing viewers to connect plot points in a variety of ways using their TV remotes.

    A source said,"We're doing work on branch narratives (叙事) so you are actually making choices as you watch. All the content will be there,and then people will have to get through it in different ways.We'll see how it plays out. It's an experiment.We'll see if it gets much success.For creators,it's a new field."

    Actors would film numerous alternate plot segments (片段) in advance,letting viewers choose which route to take through the story.Netflix will run a trial with choose-your-own-adventure shows for children later this year, based on an established character.If they are successful,it will use the format for TV programmes aimed at adults. Netflix president Reed Hastings confirmed that the company is working on interactive shows,saying,"Once you have got interactivity,you can try anything."

    At least five million UK households are thought to be signed up to Netflix,and it is challenging traditional broadcasters.Earlier this year,BBC boss Lord Hall promised to reinvent the iPlayer so that it overtakes Netflix as a destination in its own right,rather than a catch-up service.

    I first met Paul Newman in 1968, when George Roy Hill, the director of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, introduced us in New York City. When the studio didn't want me for the film - it wanted somebody as well known as Paul — he stood up for me. I don't know how many people would have done that; they would have listened to their agents or the studio powers.

    The friendship that grew out of the experience of making that film and The Sting four years later had its root in the fact that although there was an age difference, we both came from a tradition of theater and live TV. We were respectful of craft(技艺) and focused on digging into the characters we were going to play. Both of us had the qualities and virtues that are typical of American actors: humorous, aggressive, and making fun of each other — but always with an underlying affection. Those were also at the core(核心) of our relationship off the screen.

    We shared the brief that if you're fortunate enough to have success, you should put something back — he with his Newman's Own food and his Hole in the Wall camps for kids who are seriously ill, and me with Sundance and the institute and the festival. Paul and I didn't see each other all that regularly, but sharing that brought us together. We supported each other financially and by showing up at events.

    I last saw him a few months ago. He'd been in and out of the hospital. He and I both knew what the deal was, and we didn't talk about it. Ours was a relationship that didn't need a lot of words.

    When you're a parent to a young child, you spend a lot of time talking about feelings: about having to share, about being disappointed because you may not have a cookie instead of broccoli (绿花椰菜), about the great injustice of a parent pressing the elevator button before the child has a chance to.

    And in a parenting culture that's increasingly concerned with centering children's needs above all else, mothers and fathers have become skillful at talking about their kids' feelings while masking their own. But new research suggests that parents who hide their negative emotions are doing their children, and themselves harm.

    A study published this month says that when parents put on a faux­happy (假开心) face for their kids,  they do damage to their own sense of wellbeing and authenticity.

"For the average parent the findings suggest when they attempt to hide their negative emotion expression and overexpress their positive emotions with their children, it actually comes at a cost: doing so may lead parents to feel worse themselves," researcher Dr. Emily Impett, says.

    It makes sense that parents often fall back on amping up (扩大) the positivity for the sake of their children — there are a lot of things in the world we want to protect our kids from. But children are often smarter than we expect and are quite in tune with what the people closest to them — their parents — are feeling.

    There was a time about a year or so ago, for example, when I received some bad news over the phone; I was home with my four­year­old and so I did my best to put on a brave face.  She knew immediately something was wrong though, and was confused.

    When I finally let a few tears out and explained that Mom heard something sad about a friend, she was, of course, just fine. My daughter patted my shoulder, gave me a hug, and went back to playing. She felt better that she was able to help me, and the moment made a lot more sense to her emotionally than a smiling mom holding back sobs. I was glad that I could feel sad momentarily and not have to work hard to hide that.

    Relaying positive feelings to your children when you don't feel them is a move the researchers called high cost — that it may seem like the most beneficial to your child at the time but that parents should find other ways of communicating emotions that "allow them to feel true to themselves".

    But this is also about children seeing the world in a more honest way. While we will want to protect our children from things that aren't age­appropriate or harmful, it's better to raise a generation of kids who understand that moms and dads are people too.