Walking home last night from Teuchters we spied a cat stalking through the grave yard of St. Mary's Cathedral. The cat moved low to the ground, using the long grass as cover as it hunted a pigeon sitting on the ground. At first I thought the pigeon must see the cat but it turned its back on the hunter that was now less than a couple of metres from his prey.
A magpie flew into the open space and up onto the gable roof of the church. He watched the cat and the pigeon with interest. A second before the cat lunched itself at the pigeon the magpie flew down from its perch letting out a warning call allowing the pigeon to fly into the air and escape by the proverbial cat's whisker.
Is this a common reaction in birds? Do they see themselves as one species united in common cause against the cats of the world, fighting a war that stretches down through the ages? Certainly the magpie's reaction had nothing to do with its own survival as the cat had no interest in it and the magpie was perched out of reach. It also must have nothing to do with 'survival of the fittest' as far as I can tell pigeons and magpies have no dependency on each other.
Read this week:
The Book of Ballads illustrated by Charles Vess with stories by various writers.
Monday, March 26, 2007
Sunday, March 25, 2007
The Missing
Finished the last re-write of 'The Missing', five minutes ago. That's it now before I print it off and hand the book over to a couple of carefully chosen readers and gain my first response to ideas that have been circulating in my mind for the last two years.
It's a strange period as I have no idea how this book will be received. Previously, I kept my readers up to date with what I was writing and would feed them tidbits as I wrote, but this time they will be entering blind. They have no idea about the themes, the setting, the characters or the intent. It will be as new to them as the first time they select a book off the shelf in a well stock library.
Now is the time I'll start to write the pitch and start researching publishers. I also want to get back to writing a few short stories before the summer project kicks off.
It's a strange period as I have no idea how this book will be received. Previously, I kept my readers up to date with what I was writing and would feed them tidbits as I wrote, but this time they will be entering blind. They have no idea about the themes, the setting, the characters or the intent. It will be as new to them as the first time they select a book off the shelf in a well stock library.
Now is the time I'll start to write the pitch and start researching publishers. I also want to get back to writing a few short stories before the summer project kicks off.
Sunday, March 18, 2007
Disappearing Bees
Apparently all the honey bees are disappearing from the US http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/americas/6438373.stm. No one really knows why this happening but the ecological impact could be disastrous. It gets me wondering what would happen if other creatures suddenly vanished. What would happen if one day there were no birds at all? The skies bereft of any flying creatures or the seas suddenly empty of fish? Who would eat all the acorns if the squirrels vanish? And what about bacteria? Whole processes of nature would suddenly stop happening.
Read this week:
Stardust by Neil Gaiman (the novel format).
Read this week:
Stardust by Neil Gaiman (the novel format).
Sunday, March 11, 2007
Futuristic Elves
Interesting article from Ireland http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/northern_ireland/6425333.stm
I suppose the man is either being quite crafty or is slightly disturbed. The one thing the article does not cover however, is why as a futuristic elf shaman he (she) needs a selection of bras and supender belts? Was the elf shaman attempting to seduce someone in the new underwear or does she just like to look good while on the run?
I suppose the man is either being quite crafty or is slightly disturbed. The one thing the article does not cover however, is why as a futuristic elf shaman he (she) needs a selection of bras and supender belts? Was the elf shaman attempting to seduce someone in the new underwear or does she just like to look good while on the run?
Thursday, March 01, 2007
A Bit of a Moan
I've been away visiting the hidey hole in Barga, which has a beautiful new set of hand crafted windows installed, and to Florence. After coming down with a virus for the first couple of days of the holiday (aching knees and thighs - which is a strange one) I was able to spend the rest of the time recuperating in the sunshine, hidden from prying eyes by sticking to my favourite park bench in the old town. Not much had changed (which is one of the reasons I go) and I was able to catch up on reading and take a little time out from writing.
Florence was fun; though this time I found the place not as enchanting as past visits. Having done all the museums and seen most of the sights, we kept to wandering the streets and watching the tourists and locals alike, partaking of food and resting. I still like the place but it doesn't feel as dynamic as Edinburgh. It's as if the place has been preserved in aspic, handsome but dead - a city haunted by the living.
All the rest and recuperation from the holiday was however undone by the company RyanAir. I've often heard of those poor passengers left out in the cold by this company with no recourse to any customer service when things go wrong (as they will some times, through no fault of any one person) to which the boss Mr. O'Leary puts down to the fact they are a cheap carrier.
Our plane was cancelled five minutes before boarding was due to begin. Along with the passengers from three other planes we were left in departures with no clue as to why this had happened and no staff to tell us what to do. The crowd then had to push their way back to the main part of the airport, past some very confused security staff to three small windows (only two of which were manned) where we then queued to be seen by a member of RyanAir staff. To get to the front of this queue took us four hours. We were then given the choice of making our way to another airport in the hope of getting a flight, or waiting for two days in the hope of there being room on the next available flight. Not really satisfactory in any way when one of the queuing people mentioned that he had already been waiting two days for this flight. In the end we were able to get on a flight to a different UK airport late that evening where we had to stay overnight and then rent a car to drive back to Scotland. To add insult to injury it seems that the Ryan insurance we took out is worth absolutely nothing.
It seems that RyanAir have no desire to provide any kind of customer service, treating their customers with a complete disregard or any kind of respect, and I'm sorry Mr. O'Leary but it does not matter what I've paid for my ticket, if I've paid for a return I expect a return. As it is I can't wait for the start up of this website.
Read this week:
Untold Stories by Alan Bennett
Florence was fun; though this time I found the place not as enchanting as past visits. Having done all the museums and seen most of the sights, we kept to wandering the streets and watching the tourists and locals alike, partaking of food and resting. I still like the place but it doesn't feel as dynamic as Edinburgh. It's as if the place has been preserved in aspic, handsome but dead - a city haunted by the living.
All the rest and recuperation from the holiday was however undone by the company RyanAir. I've often heard of those poor passengers left out in the cold by this company with no recourse to any customer service when things go wrong (as they will some times, through no fault of any one person) to which the boss Mr. O'Leary puts down to the fact they are a cheap carrier.
Our plane was cancelled five minutes before boarding was due to begin. Along with the passengers from three other planes we were left in departures with no clue as to why this had happened and no staff to tell us what to do. The crowd then had to push their way back to the main part of the airport, past some very confused security staff to three small windows (only two of which were manned) where we then queued to be seen by a member of RyanAir staff. To get to the front of this queue took us four hours. We were then given the choice of making our way to another airport in the hope of getting a flight, or waiting for two days in the hope of there being room on the next available flight. Not really satisfactory in any way when one of the queuing people mentioned that he had already been waiting two days for this flight. In the end we were able to get on a flight to a different UK airport late that evening where we had to stay overnight and then rent a car to drive back to Scotland. To add insult to injury it seems that the Ryan insurance we took out is worth absolutely nothing.
It seems that RyanAir have no desire to provide any kind of customer service, treating their customers with a complete disregard or any kind of respect, and I'm sorry Mr. O'Leary but it does not matter what I've paid for my ticket, if I've paid for a return I expect a return. As it is I can't wait for the start up of this website.
Read this week:
Untold Stories by Alan Bennett
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
One Valentines gift - a Flat
I'm working on a new draft of 'The Missing'. This is the one where I'll hopefully finish for now. It feels more complete than it has ever done before, with a proper ending and far better justification for the main character actions. Once this rewrite is complete (which should take about a month) I'll print it the whole lot off and give it to Lady H for its first outing in the big bad world. Only then will I start on a treatment to send out to the publishers and agents and start thinking about the next project (of which there are many).
We're off to Italy on Saturday, a few days in the house in Barga and then three nights in a great boutique hotel in Florence. I'm looking forward to the break as its the last one I might get for some time as Lady H and I have bought for each other half a flat. We plan to tape the pieces together and have a whole apartment that's all ours for the beginning of April. Not a bad Valentines day present by any ones estimation however as I'm on my own (Lady H is in London on business) I'll have to celebrate with a curry and a beer.
Read this week:
The Complete Maus by Art Spiegelman
The Prestige by Christopher Priest
The Book of General Ignorance by various
and because I got bored of books call 'The something' - Curious Scotland by George Rosie.
We're off to Italy on Saturday, a few days in the house in Barga and then three nights in a great boutique hotel in Florence. I'm looking forward to the break as its the last one I might get for some time as Lady H and I have bought for each other half a flat. We plan to tape the pieces together and have a whole apartment that's all ours for the beginning of April. Not a bad Valentines day present by any ones estimation however as I'm on my own (Lady H is in London on business) I'll have to celebrate with a curry and a beer.
Read this week:
The Complete Maus by Art Spiegelman
The Prestige by Christopher Priest
The Book of General Ignorance by various
and because I got bored of books call 'The something' - Curious Scotland by George Rosie.
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
Hollywood Settee Spud
Just a short entry. The idea for the TV script (The Park) has taken off this week with an agent in Hollywood requesting a first look. I know nothing will come of this but it makes it feel all worthwhile knowing that someone is prepared to read my material. It makes me want to carry on and stop being a couch potato (I never refer to it as a couch preferring settee which Dictionary.com informs me comes from an alteration to the word 'settle' - I guess I'm a settee spud.).
Read this week:
Marvel 1602 written by Neil Gaiman and illustrated by Andy Kubert.
Read this week:
Marvel 1602 written by Neil Gaiman and illustrated by Andy Kubert.
Sunday, January 21, 2007
Ethereal Images
The water colours of Joseph Mallord William Turner in the Vaughn collection are only let out of storage every January. The rest of the time they are squirreled away to protect them from the damaging effects sunlight has on such delicate works.
They act as a counterpoint to the Canaletto's seen recently. Several of the works depict Venice. They are ethereal, half glimpsed silhouettes that loom out of the fog of memory. Whereas Canaletto is hard lines and detail, Turner is colour and light and imagery, half glimpsed and half remembered. I can't say I prefer them just that they speak to me in a different way.
They act as a counterpoint to the Canaletto's seen recently. Several of the works depict Venice. They are ethereal, half glimpsed silhouettes that loom out of the fog of memory. Whereas Canaletto is hard lines and detail, Turner is colour and light and imagery, half glimpsed and half remembered. I can't say I prefer them just that they speak to me in a different way.
Saturday, January 20, 2007
While the wind howls...
Well I think we got of lightly with the weather. Whenever I mention I live in Edinburgh on the whole the response is one of rolled eyes and allusions to snow, force nine gales and the lack of sun. Now, due to global warming, all the really atrocious weather seems to stay south of the border and with predictions of warmer summers I'm thinking of buying a bit of beach somewhere and putting up a hotel and outdoor pool. A couple of hundred years from now this part of the coast will be the new Med!
Last weekend on a trip to Nottingham I was able to say goodbye to Van the Man, who along with his lady friend, are planning to spend the next year travelling the world and seeing what it has to offer. A party was held in celebration and it was nice to see so many old faces in one room. Drinks were drunk, stories told and many a back was slapped as memories were dusted off and hoisted up the flag pole.
First port of call is Delhi were the web tells me it’s a nice twenty degrees but the humidity is 81 and that snakes & ladders was created by the 13th century Indian poet saint Gyandev. It was originally called 'Mokshapat.' The ladders in the game represented virtues and the snakes indicated vices. The game was played with cowrie shells and dices. Later through time, the game underwent several modifications but the meaning is the same i.e good deeds take us to heaven and evil to a cycle of re-births.
Next up to have a leaving bash is PC Benny, who has accepted a position in the police force that protects the borders of Devon and Cornwall against pirates and those that would rob them of their scones and thick cream. He is also having a leaving do but we'll be travelling back from Florence when it's on.
Went to my first meeting of the Coffee and Comics brigade and reviewed Pride of Baghdad. This is a beautifully illustrated interpretation of the real life escape from the Baghdad zoo of a family of lions during the invasion of Iraq. It's a poignant story about the freedom of the people, the tyranny of the ruling classes and misguided judgement of the American forces.
I have also just finished Blackberry Wine. This is a favourite of Lady H's and one which she persuaded me to read (and I'm glad she did). It falls into the area of magical realism while
Harris describes the book as "a relative - a second cousin, perhaps" to Chocolat (I've seen the film, but plan now to read the book). The idea of magic and ghosts permeate throughout the novel but it's done so subtly. I like it that way, I never want the magic explained because then it's just a cheap parlour trick.
Tomorrow I plan to go and see the January Turner's. Works of art that are only allowed out the box for one month of the year - I wonder what they do the rest of time, when no one is looking?
Read this week:
Pride of Baghdad by Brian K. Vaughan with art by Niko Henrichon
Blackberry Wine by Joanne Harris
Last weekend on a trip to Nottingham I was able to say goodbye to Van the Man, who along with his lady friend, are planning to spend the next year travelling the world and seeing what it has to offer. A party was held in celebration and it was nice to see so many old faces in one room. Drinks were drunk, stories told and many a back was slapped as memories were dusted off and hoisted up the flag pole.
First port of call is Delhi were the web tells me it’s a nice twenty degrees but the humidity is 81 and that snakes & ladders was created by the 13th century Indian poet saint Gyandev. It was originally called 'Mokshapat.' The ladders in the game represented virtues and the snakes indicated vices. The game was played with cowrie shells and dices. Later through time, the game underwent several modifications but the meaning is the same i.e good deeds take us to heaven and evil to a cycle of re-births.
Next up to have a leaving bash is PC Benny, who has accepted a position in the police force that protects the borders of Devon and Cornwall against pirates and those that would rob them of their scones and thick cream. He is also having a leaving do but we'll be travelling back from Florence when it's on.
Went to my first meeting of the Coffee and Comics brigade and reviewed Pride of Baghdad. This is a beautifully illustrated interpretation of the real life escape from the Baghdad zoo of a family of lions during the invasion of Iraq. It's a poignant story about the freedom of the people, the tyranny of the ruling classes and misguided judgement of the American forces.
I have also just finished Blackberry Wine. This is a favourite of Lady H's and one which she persuaded me to read (and I'm glad she did). It falls into the area of magical realism while
Harris describes the book as "a relative - a second cousin, perhaps" to Chocolat (I've seen the film, but plan now to read the book). The idea of magic and ghosts permeate throughout the novel but it's done so subtly. I like it that way, I never want the magic explained because then it's just a cheap parlour trick.
Tomorrow I plan to go and see the January Turner's. Works of art that are only allowed out the box for one month of the year - I wonder what they do the rest of time, when no one is looking?
Read this week:
Pride of Baghdad by Brian K. Vaughan with art by Niko Henrichon
Blackberry Wine by Joanne Harris
Tuesday, January 09, 2007
A Book Review or Two.
I've been reading Author Hill's new book this week. I'm always concerned when I read something written by someone I know, for fear I'll find it lacklustre, or boring or (even worst) badly written and that the next time I see them they'll ask me to comment on it. I'm not very good at lying beside I always want my own creations to be critiqued with honesty. If it's bad tell me its bad…I know I can't please everyone and tend to write for my own pleasure more anyway.
That said 'Blade of Fire' (the second book in 'The Icemark Chronicles') is a better book than the first and pretty much thumps along at a thrilling pace. The story takes place many years later with Thirrin and Oskan all grown up and ruling their northern kingdom while having had a brood of children. The youngest of these is
Charlemagne, the runt of the litter, crippled by polio when he was a babe. Though the parent's obvious favourite, Charlemagne (or Sharley as he is none to family and friends) feels unable to perform as a true macho Prince of the Icemark. This is a nice touch and differentiates the character from the first hero Thirrin.
Enter Scipio Bellorum, the imperial commander of the Empire, still smarting from the loss of the war in the first book returns with his sadistic sons in tow and a larger mechanically enhanced army ready to wipe the Icemark off the map.
Sharley is given the role of taking the countries refugees out of the Icemark, across the sea to the deserts of the south. Smarting and hurt that he is being made to leave when even his gothic sister Medea is allowed to stay he is none the less intrigued by his father's prophesy that he will return to the north, "a blade of fire in your hand."
After this the book splits in two. We get the views of Sharley and his adventures as he travels to lands familiar to the YA reader and yet somewhat alien and fantasised. A city based on renaissance Venice, a desert kingdom reminiscent of Saudi, and a land populated by Zulu type warriors. This bringing together of different peoples with Sharley's own Nordic people plus the creatures of the Icemark, their differing cultures, ideas, mythology and religion contrasts against the stark atheistic, colonial society of Bellorum. In one society all work together through understanding in the other ideas are imposed. It is perhaps in this area, more than any other that its intended young adult market is noticeable.
God and Goddesses also play a large part in the book, but though minor deities are evident, the true Gods, though alluded to, never make an appearance. May be all these differing Gods are one and same, if they are they remain firmly apposed to interference.
One section that did surprise was the ending - (***SPOILER ALERT*** if you intend to read the book turn away now…go on shut your eyes…stop peeking!). The story is one of war, and the author does not pull any punches, it's bloody vicious and dirty. The final defeat of Bellorum is quick and decisive and his execution swift but without little meaning, brutal when seen through post Saddam execution eyes.
It's also Author Hill's birthday tomorrow and I look forward to catching up with him soon here or in Leicester.
I also quick read through 'The Homecoming' by Ray Bardbury. This is a short but gothic Halloween story, with a cast of vampiric and mummified aunts and uncles decending on the home of another young and crippled boy, though this child is merely psychologically crippled by the fact he does not have any of the weird traits when compared to the rest of his family.
The story is old (originally published in Mademoiselle in 1946), but this new version has been illustrated by Dave McKean. If you have not seen his work, go and look it up now…right now. It's wonderfully scratchy and atmospheric and dark and innocent and sunset struck…all at once and at the same time. Beautiful.
Read this week:
Blade of Fire by Stuart Hill
The Homecoming by Ray Bradbury and illustrated by Dave McKean.
That said 'Blade of Fire' (the second book in 'The Icemark Chronicles') is a better book than the first and pretty much thumps along at a thrilling pace. The story takes place many years later with Thirrin and Oskan all grown up and ruling their northern kingdom while having had a brood of children. The youngest of these is
Charlemagne, the runt of the litter, crippled by polio when he was a babe. Though the parent's obvious favourite, Charlemagne (or Sharley as he is none to family and friends) feels unable to perform as a true macho Prince of the Icemark. This is a nice touch and differentiates the character from the first hero Thirrin.
Enter Scipio Bellorum, the imperial commander of the Empire, still smarting from the loss of the war in the first book returns with his sadistic sons in tow and a larger mechanically enhanced army ready to wipe the Icemark off the map.
Sharley is given the role of taking the countries refugees out of the Icemark, across the sea to the deserts of the south. Smarting and hurt that he is being made to leave when even his gothic sister Medea is allowed to stay he is none the less intrigued by his father's prophesy that he will return to the north, "a blade of fire in your hand."
After this the book splits in two. We get the views of Sharley and his adventures as he travels to lands familiar to the YA reader and yet somewhat alien and fantasised. A city based on renaissance Venice, a desert kingdom reminiscent of Saudi, and a land populated by Zulu type warriors. This bringing together of different peoples with Sharley's own Nordic people plus the creatures of the Icemark, their differing cultures, ideas, mythology and religion contrasts against the stark atheistic, colonial society of Bellorum. In one society all work together through understanding in the other ideas are imposed. It is perhaps in this area, more than any other that its intended young adult market is noticeable.
God and Goddesses also play a large part in the book, but though minor deities are evident, the true Gods, though alluded to, never make an appearance. May be all these differing Gods are one and same, if they are they remain firmly apposed to interference.
One section that did surprise was the ending - (***SPOILER ALERT*** if you intend to read the book turn away now…go on shut your eyes…stop peeking!). The story is one of war, and the author does not pull any punches, it's bloody vicious and dirty. The final defeat of Bellorum is quick and decisive and his execution swift but without little meaning, brutal when seen through post Saddam execution eyes.
It's also Author Hill's birthday tomorrow and I look forward to catching up with him soon here or in Leicester.
I also quick read through 'The Homecoming' by Ray Bardbury. This is a short but gothic Halloween story, with a cast of vampiric and mummified aunts and uncles decending on the home of another young and crippled boy, though this child is merely psychologically crippled by the fact he does not have any of the weird traits when compared to the rest of his family.
The story is old (originally published in Mademoiselle in 1946), but this new version has been illustrated by Dave McKean. If you have not seen his work, go and look it up now…right now. It's wonderfully scratchy and atmospheric and dark and innocent and sunset struck…all at once and at the same time. Beautiful.
Read this week:
Blade of Fire by Stuart Hill
The Homecoming by Ray Bradbury and illustrated by Dave McKean.
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
Whooooosh!
That was the sound of Christmas and the New Year celebrations flying past without the common decency to stay around long enough to be fully appreciated.
We spent Christmas just the two of us. Lady H was persuaded to stay in bed until a reasonable hour before tearing into her presents. I must admit that this year we seemed to have done very well on the old present and card front, though we are somewhat closer to the action this year. It's also nice to be somewhere that you get, if not a white Christmas, then at least a coldish one. I always thought that Santa and his all his little helpers looked somewhat out of place and were probably drenched in sweat in New Zealand and Australia. They must have real problems trying to persuade the old fat man down the road to don the red hat and beard when all he really wanted to do was join the others for a barbecue.
New Years was a little slow due mainly to the previously mentioned cold weather. We had planned, along with visiting Mater and Peter to join the swell of crowds that throng Prince's Street for the Scottish Hogmany (nothing to do with roast pork I was quite disappointed to find out). But, the winds got up and the whole thing had to be cancelled at the last minute.
Still gambling and drinking in a warm flat is better than nothing.
I was hoping to bring photos of the events but obviously there are none so you will have to make do with a photo from the start of Hogmany and the burning of a wicker man. We arrived a little late so I don't know whether any live sacrifices were made this year, though there was a distinct smell of bacon in the air.
We spent Christmas just the two of us. Lady H was persuaded to stay in bed until a reasonable hour before tearing into her presents. I must admit that this year we seemed to have done very well on the old present and card front, though we are somewhat closer to the action this year. It's also nice to be somewhere that you get, if not a white Christmas, then at least a coldish one. I always thought that Santa and his all his little helpers looked somewhat out of place and were probably drenched in sweat in New Zealand and Australia. They must have real problems trying to persuade the old fat man down the road to don the red hat and beard when all he really wanted to do was join the others for a barbecue.
New Years was a little slow due mainly to the previously mentioned cold weather. We had planned, along with visiting Mater and Peter to join the swell of crowds that throng Prince's Street for the Scottish Hogmany (nothing to do with roast pork I was quite disappointed to find out). But, the winds got up and the whole thing had to be cancelled at the last minute.
Still gambling and drinking in a warm flat is better than nothing.
I was hoping to bring photos of the events but obviously there are none so you will have to make do with a photo from the start of Hogmany and the burning of a wicker man. We arrived a little late so I don't know whether any live sacrifices were made this year, though there was a distinct smell of bacon in the air.
Saturday, December 23, 2006
Yule time in the Castle
Well it's time for the Christmas holidays to begin in earnest. The tree is decorated, the presents wrapped, the cards are on the mantelpiece (if we had one) and air is filled with the smell of spiced wine and roasting goose.
Last night I had a Christmas meal in the castle's Queen Anne room's. The views, looking out over the city (which isn't covered with fog unlike the rest of the country) really are spectacular, and the building are impressive. It's also, what I would call, a proper castle with battlements, granite cliffs, impregnable wall plus it still has a standing garrison.
In Nottingham, visitors always expected some medieaval building to dominate the town but that castle was burnt to the ground a long time ago and the building that replaced it is more akin to a stately home than that image I mentioned, but Edinburgh castle is the real deal.
Talking of all things Nottingham I'm spending the day watching 'Robin of Sherwood'. It really is so much better then the new BBC's Robin in the Hoodie show. 'Robin of Sherwood' is dark, mysterious and quite bloody in places. There is a feeling of magic in the show helped with the introduction of the shaman / Green man character of Herne the Hunter. The characters are interesting and you actually care about them, they feel like a band of desperadoes living on their wits.
Talking about the other show with Lady H we realised we couldn't even remember which of Hood's men was Will Scarlet and the outfit they wear are just ridiculous.
So with several more episodes to go I'll leave you to enjoy the holiday. Happy Christmas!
Last night I had a Christmas meal in the castle's Queen Anne room's. The views, looking out over the city (which isn't covered with fog unlike the rest of the country) really are spectacular, and the building are impressive. It's also, what I would call, a proper castle with battlements, granite cliffs, impregnable wall plus it still has a standing garrison.
In Nottingham, visitors always expected some medieaval building to dominate the town but that castle was burnt to the ground a long time ago and the building that replaced it is more akin to a stately home than that image I mentioned, but Edinburgh castle is the real deal.
Talking of all things Nottingham I'm spending the day watching 'Robin of Sherwood'. It really is so much better then the new BBC's Robin in the Hoodie show. 'Robin of Sherwood' is dark, mysterious and quite bloody in places. There is a feeling of magic in the show helped with the introduction of the shaman / Green man character of Herne the Hunter. The characters are interesting and you actually care about them, they feel like a band of desperadoes living on their wits.
Talking about the other show with Lady H we realised we couldn't even remember which of Hood's men was Will Scarlet and the outfit they wear are just ridiculous.
So with several more episodes to go I'll leave you to enjoy the holiday. Happy Christmas!
Sunday, December 17, 2006
Ohhs and Ahhs.
Van the Man visited on Thursday, having business in the capital the following day, so spending time in a few bars the night before seemed a good idea at the time. The feelings of pain and suffering and the smiting of many brain cells the next day, led me to rethink this 'good' idea. But it seems I am not alone as the streets are filled with wall to wall vomiting as staff Christmas parties get out of hand and normally nice and decent human being take to wearing flashing antlers and pointed red hats.
Lady Helen is getting more excited by the day and has to be shooed away from the small pile of presents with a thick stick and the threat of removal of her chocolate ration. She insisted the tree went up yesterday so after an exhausting trek around town the tree was de-boxed and yours truly had to make all the expected 'oohs and ahhs' as Lady Helen stood back to admire her handiwork.
Started work on a small piece for a competition this week which I hope to finish over the Xmas week. Assuming it doesn't win anything I'll post it here in the new year.
Website of the week: (courtesy of Otralala)
DIE-CAST Films
Lady Helen is getting more excited by the day and has to be shooed away from the small pile of presents with a thick stick and the threat of removal of her chocolate ration. She insisted the tree went up yesterday so after an exhausting trek around town the tree was de-boxed and yours truly had to make all the expected 'oohs and ahhs' as Lady Helen stood back to admire her handiwork.
Started work on a small piece for a competition this week which I hope to finish over the Xmas week. Assuming it doesn't win anything I'll post it here in the new year.
Website of the week: (courtesy of Otralala)
DIE-CAST Films
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Where's Adam?
create your own visited country map
or write about it on the open travel guide
create your own personalized map of the USA
or write about it on the open travel guide
create your personalized map of europe
or write about it on the open travel guide
Just a quick way for me to keep a map of where I've been. Try it and see how much of world is still left as the undiscovered country.
Monday, December 11, 2006
Bearded Ladies and Outlaws
Spent the weekend with PC Benny in the old hunting ground of Snottingham. It was a time to catch up with both friends and family and the news that is circulating within each set (the two are kept apart however, in fear that one might embarrass the other).
On the family side, final grandparent is looking a lot better after numerous operations and procedures completed by the men with stethoscopes. Big Chief Shardlow has returned from France having stocked up with enough wine to see him through to the warmer months. The Mudder is in training for her visit north of the border for Hogmany, while Fay-Fay is planning baby nephews first annum celebration (the afore mentioned nephew has decided he doesn't like men with beards and now screams when approached by either uncle or carnival ladies), while PC Benny is starting to think about his flight south to the land of clotted cream.
On the friend's side, all are seemingly happy in relationships (first time ever). The Grayman is flourishing while selling soft core porn, Kaiser is working for the same people as me (showing that we truly do live in the world of the mega-corporation), big Tim's love of all things Italian has now extended to his hair and facial ornaments and Van the man was conspicuous by his absence.
A good time was had by all, however while waiting for a taxi on a cold concrete street, whipped by the empty take-away trays and surrounded by the t-shirt wearing Snottingham 'massive with their blue legged girlfriends of the loud voice and expletive filled sentences, it reminded me why I'm so glad we moved north. A new series of Robin Hood has not restored any pride in the place.
Read this week:
The Forest in Folklore and Mythology by Alexander Porteous
Howl and other Poems by Allen Ginsberg.
On the family side, final grandparent is looking a lot better after numerous operations and procedures completed by the men with stethoscopes. Big Chief Shardlow has returned from France having stocked up with enough wine to see him through to the warmer months. The Mudder is in training for her visit north of the border for Hogmany, while Fay-Fay is planning baby nephews first annum celebration (the afore mentioned nephew has decided he doesn't like men with beards and now screams when approached by either uncle or carnival ladies), while PC Benny is starting to think about his flight south to the land of clotted cream.
On the friend's side, all are seemingly happy in relationships (first time ever). The Grayman is flourishing while selling soft core porn, Kaiser is working for the same people as me (showing that we truly do live in the world of the mega-corporation), big Tim's love of all things Italian has now extended to his hair and facial ornaments and Van the man was conspicuous by his absence.
A good time was had by all, however while waiting for a taxi on a cold concrete street, whipped by the empty take-away trays and surrounded by the t-shirt wearing Snottingham 'massive with their blue legged girlfriends of the loud voice and expletive filled sentences, it reminded me why I'm so glad we moved north. A new series of Robin Hood has not restored any pride in the place.
Read this week:
The Forest in Folklore and Mythology by Alexander Porteous
Howl and other Poems by Allen Ginsberg.
Monday, December 04, 2006
Christmas is coming and all through the house...
Not much to report on this week as I'm trying to save money in time for Christmas. I've already done all my shopping without having to leave my computer. Hopefully everyone will get what I ordered, in the right number, delivered to the right address and in time for the festivities. It's a lot easier than daring the crowds on princes Street who all seem to be out shopping with the express purpose of wandering in front of me when I'm on a mission, stopping dead in doorways or walking five abreast and filling the pavement. The only problem with ordering online is that every company seems to have a different style order form calling for valuable wasted minutes as I work out how to use their web page. Some of the companies make it blatantly easy while others seem to have come up with the most frustrating websites going (has a name similar to Pay-Hel) where I have to order each present individually and go through the whole order process again and again and again. Perhaps they miss me visiting their stores.
Off to Nottingham this weekend to visit the family, deliver said presents and to celebrate PC Brothers birthday.
Read this week:
The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen Vol. 1 by Alan Moore et al.
Off to Nottingham this weekend to visit the family, deliver said presents and to celebrate PC Brothers birthday.
Read this week:
The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen Vol. 1 by Alan Moore et al.
Thursday, November 30, 2006
Adult Movies
There appears to be a growing trend in fantasy in the world of film and television, with producers finally realising that such ideas need not be confined to the images of childhood. Long gone are the shoddy sets and ludicrous outfits that once populated these genre films (a loss to all those who like their warrior women clad in nothing but an unpractical armoured bikini). The sfx. which were advanced in the LOTR trilogy and the healthy profits these films generated has managed to promote the adult fantasy film and allow writers and directors to concentrate on weaving tales that satisfy a grown-up audience without pandering to simplistic 'moral hero' stories.
A case in point is 'Pan's Labyrinth', a tale of childhood, but one very much overshadowed by the barbarity and horror of an adult world. The film is able to discuss war, torture, infanticide, assisted suicide, power, corruption and ideologies left to fester, amongst other things. All of this is set against a classic quest fairytale that is brought to life through prosthetics and careful film making. On television the BBC's Torchwood (primarily sci-fi but one episode contained fairies), regularly touches upon sex both gay and hetero and the manipulation of such adult themes plus it includes an openly bi-sexual man as the main character.
I've always been attracted to and enjoyed fantasy/mythic stories set in the 'real' world (Neverwhere, Constantine etc). By doing so authors have to deal with realities of modern life which makes the magical elements of these stories appear more...well, magical. In my own writings I have (so far) wanted to look at the issues which affect us today, whether these are social or political, but place them within a mythic framework. The written word has always done this with fantasy novels as more often than not they are aimed at a well read audience, but these ideas are (normally) pared back for any filmic interpretation.
With the release next year of Gaiman's 'Stardust' let us hope this theme continues and that the thirst for intelligent yet thrilling fantasy work keeps coming.
Read this week: Scar Night by Alan Campbell.
A case in point is 'Pan's Labyrinth', a tale of childhood, but one very much overshadowed by the barbarity and horror of an adult world. The film is able to discuss war, torture, infanticide, assisted suicide, power, corruption and ideologies left to fester, amongst other things. All of this is set against a classic quest fairytale that is brought to life through prosthetics and careful film making. On television the BBC's Torchwood (primarily sci-fi but one episode contained fairies), regularly touches upon sex both gay and hetero and the manipulation of such adult themes plus it includes an openly bi-sexual man as the main character.
I've always been attracted to and enjoyed fantasy/mythic stories set in the 'real' world (Neverwhere, Constantine etc). By doing so authors have to deal with realities of modern life which makes the magical elements of these stories appear more...well, magical. In my own writings I have (so far) wanted to look at the issues which affect us today, whether these are social or political, but place them within a mythic framework. The written word has always done this with fantasy novels as more often than not they are aimed at a well read audience, but these ideas are (normally) pared back for any filmic interpretation.
With the release next year of Gaiman's 'Stardust' let us hope this theme continues and that the thirst for intelligent yet thrilling fantasy work keeps coming.
Read this week: Scar Night by Alan Campbell.
Sunday, November 26, 2006
Venice is a Fake
Canaletto basically made up his paintings. By this I mean he created compositions that were for all intents and purposes - fake.
There is an exhibition of his work in Holyrood and feeling that I needed a little bit of 'KULTUR' I headed that way this weekend. I've never seen any of his work before but he is one of the few artists who upon stumbling across his work I can scratch my beard, nod and mumble 'nice Canaletto'. However, seeing the initial sketches and the finished paintings I noted for the first time how much his work reminded me of particularly well crafted comic book panels. He uses that eyes of an architect to render the buildings in almost perfect detail and fills the urban spaces with people going about their daily basis.
Going back to my first comment, like many comic book artists his views are Venice are in the main fake. He would widen a canal here, ignore a building there, change the perspective of a view. His Venice is a fake Venice - but a convincingly beautiful one - a Gotham of the 16th Century.
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
Ghost Books
Just in case any of you were worried Lady H returned safe and sound from Italy on Saturday. Everything seems well in that part of the world and the hidey-hole itself is looking grand. It seems her diet during this short stay consisted of mainly wine, but I think this was her way of blending in with the chaperon.
She was able to bring back with her my incomplete set of Shakespeare books. The collection of plays, published in 1896 in a diminutive size, backed in red cloth with gold lettering was a 21st birthday present from the parental units. Though the books are frayed and tired they are signed in the front as being owned by M. B. Claydon.
I often wonder who this person was. Was he or she young or old, an avid fan of Shakespeare or plays in general, a lover of books and why did they not own the full set (or did they and lost some volumes through mishap? If so how and where did they get lost?)? Would they mind that I had now taken ownership of them (and who will look after them once I have gone)?
I have become the unwitting guardian of one small part of another's life and through them I acknowledge the ghostly presence of a previous owner. I wonder if I should add my name and start a list for future generations?
This blog is now also hosted on the Barganews website. Does that mean I'm now an international writer?
Website of the week: http://howtoprankatelemarketer.ytmnd.com/
She was able to bring back with her my incomplete set of Shakespeare books. The collection of plays, published in 1896 in a diminutive size, backed in red cloth with gold lettering was a 21st birthday present from the parental units. Though the books are frayed and tired they are signed in the front as being owned by M. B. Claydon.
I often wonder who this person was. Was he or she young or old, an avid fan of Shakespeare or plays in general, a lover of books and why did they not own the full set (or did they and lost some volumes through mishap? If so how and where did they get lost?)? Would they mind that I had now taken ownership of them (and who will look after them once I have gone)?
I have become the unwitting guardian of one small part of another's life and through them I acknowledge the ghostly presence of a previous owner. I wonder if I should add my name and start a list for future generations?
This blog is now also hosted on the Barganews website. Does that mean I'm now an international writer?
Website of the week: http://howtoprankatelemarketer.ytmnd.com/
Thursday, November 16, 2006
Editing time.
I'm on my own. Lady H has gone to the hidey-hole in Barga leaving me alone until the weekend.
I'm utilising the time to get on with a bit of writing or more to the point, a bit of editing. I have a script for a TV show ready to be sent off into that vast dark hole that so much of this work vanishes into. Personally I think the premise for this series is wide enough (yet contained within its own universe) to run through many concepts, ideas and characters. As always its getting the idea in front of the right face in the right format...and that's the hard bit.
Anyone out there intrested in an urban fantasy series set in a contempory city - get in touch.
I'm utilising the time to get on with a bit of writing or more to the point, a bit of editing. I have a script for a TV show ready to be sent off into that vast dark hole that so much of this work vanishes into. Personally I think the premise for this series is wide enough (yet contained within its own universe) to run through many concepts, ideas and characters. As always its getting the idea in front of the right face in the right format...and that's the hard bit.
Anyone out there intrested in an urban fantasy series set in a contempory city - get in touch.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)