I thought I might as well put this very short story up here for all to read as I'm not sure what else to do with it. Think of it as a one of those free tidbits you get when dining out. Any responses will be, as always, welcome.
The Eternal Hunt of the Ephemeral
By Adam J. Shardlow
He shifted his body, turning from his bruised shoulder on to his back, intrigued as to what he might find.
A fire crackled someway off casting the surrounding trees into eldritch shadows that appeared to dance and spin in a parody of the plague dance. The flames gave off little heat but illuminated the face of the bearded man who nodded in his direction. He recognised the hunter and retuned a cadaver grin while secretly testing the bonds that held him captive. They held fast and his gaoler looked away.
A titter of manic laughter passed his sharp yellow teeth making the hunter scowl. The man was old and grizzled though he secretly knew that they had been born the same year. The slipping sands were taking their toll on his adversary as much as they were leaving him unmolested. He knew the hunter was tired, as soon as he fell asleep he would slip his knots and disappear quietly into the night to be born again, to love again, carouse again. He thought of his short sweet life, and laughed again.
He relaxed, conserving strength as the memories returned with a sudden jolt causing an expression of pleasure to pass across his delicate features. This was not how it was meant to end. His adventures had been too soon curtailed by this capture. He still had so much to do; his was a life that demanded to be lived. He blazed like star gas; a conflagration of deeds that he was not yet ready to renounce, they ached for action. The occasion of this existence had been but a fleeting punch into the world, the merry jig he had led his hunter a mere diversion still awaiting the main event.
He watched his captive with a quiet disdain from his seat by the fire. He felt old and exhausted but dared not close his eyes for fear the prisoner would once more disappear, a return to the chase that would drag on forever.
He had spent too much time on the road. This was but one of many winters he could remember, long dark expanses of frost bitten darkness, where the chill invaded his bones and refused to leave, the only accompanying sound the baying of the forever hungry wolf packs. After the shadow time the seasons seemed to merge, endless spring, summer and autumn flickered by, the tracks harder to follow but the journeying easier on body and soul. His prey always ahead of him, over the next mountain, in the next town, across the sea and desert where the winds blew eternally and the even the footsteps of the largest of creatures were wiped clean, the land both sterile and timeless. He had endured the eternal pursuit of this trickster but it had taken its toll both mentally and physically. He stroked his beard and wished for the timeless hunt to end.
Friday, May 18, 2007
Monday, May 14, 2007
Spanking comments
Well the writer's event with Alan Campbell was cancelled, so if you want to find out more about him you'll have to give his blog a go at http://anurbanfantasy.blogspot.com/index.html.
As the weather was atrocious we headed to the cinema to watch '28 Weeks Later', which was okay but personally not as good as the first movie. I'm sure the director was attempting to emulate the zombie horror movies of the early 60s that made reference to and commented on Vietnam. This film attempted to sum up America's war in Iraq in similar way, but came over as just a little bit hard handed. That said, great scenes of London being fire bombed. Lady H particularly liked seeing City Airport and the Docklands being levelled as she has had to spend so much time there with work.
Also went to see an The Curse of the Cat People from 1944, which was dreamy and strange and had some absolutely hilarious dialogue (that just wouldn't get past the pc brigade now), about a child being given a spanking for the first time.
Not many cats in it though.
As the weather was atrocious we headed to the cinema to watch '28 Weeks Later', which was okay but personally not as good as the first movie. I'm sure the director was attempting to emulate the zombie horror movies of the early 60s that made reference to and commented on Vietnam. This film attempted to sum up America's war in Iraq in similar way, but came over as just a little bit hard handed. That said, great scenes of London being fire bombed. Lady H particularly liked seeing City Airport and the Docklands being levelled as she has had to spend so much time there with work.
Also went to see an The Curse of the Cat People from 1944, which was dreamy and strange and had some absolutely hilarious dialogue (that just wouldn't get past the pc brigade now), about a child being given a spanking for the first time.
Not many cats in it though.
Saturday, May 12, 2007
Who watches the Watch Men?
I’ve just finished reading ‘Watchmen’. This is one of those comic books that I’ve been meaning to read for some time but I kept getting put off by the fact the industry considers it a mile stone, a totem of the adult comic book world. I was worried that I’d read it and not be able to work out what all the fuss has been about. I don’t like things being built up. The moment someone says this book, film, play is the best they have ever seen I know that I’m now going to be bitterly disappointed. They have taken away the magic of discovery for me, and a piece of work that I might have watched and thought of as good, now becomes simply okay.
The best pieces of work are those that I discover for myself. I can still remember the first time I sat in the cinema as saw a re-run of Cinema Paradiso, the first time I watched Casablanca on a wet Saturday afternoon, unaware that it was considered a masterpiece. The first time I read The Great Gatsby with its magical last lines and the first time I heard Gershwin accompanied by those great black and white scene’s of Woody Allen’s.
However I digress…
‘Watchmen’ is clever. It takes something of the infantile comic book staple ‘the masked hero’, and shows them with all their failings, hang-ups and personal problems. Too many hero’s, both on TV, in films and comics, seem to have few if any problems that would stop them from spending their days fighting crime, but what effect would this have on a person’s mental state. This, coupled with a super power, would turn these do gooders into gods, practically unstoppable and left to make snap decisions about what they considered right or wrong.
Another main issue is how society would cope with these heroes living among us. If we relied on these few heroes and then they fucked up, what would be the response? Would we place them above society’s normal values and concerns or would we ensure that they toed the line - that they conform to ‘normal’ society.
The book is slightly dated, rooted in the idea of the cold war and the east / west issue, but this distance helps to gain a perspective, though it would be interesting to see the book set in today’s celebrity, reality TV, ‘terrorist around ever corner’ obsessions.
Off out tonight to see a couple of authors (one of which is the writer of ‘Scar Night’) in discussion. Will report back soon with details.
Read this week: Watchmen by Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons
The Killing Kind by John Connolly
The best pieces of work are those that I discover for myself. I can still remember the first time I sat in the cinema as saw a re-run of Cinema Paradiso, the first time I watched Casablanca on a wet Saturday afternoon, unaware that it was considered a masterpiece. The first time I read The Great Gatsby with its magical last lines and the first time I heard Gershwin accompanied by those great black and white scene’s of Woody Allen’s.
However I digress…
‘Watchmen’ is clever. It takes something of the infantile comic book staple ‘the masked hero’, and shows them with all their failings, hang-ups and personal problems. Too many hero’s, both on TV, in films and comics, seem to have few if any problems that would stop them from spending their days fighting crime, but what effect would this have on a person’s mental state. This, coupled with a super power, would turn these do gooders into gods, practically unstoppable and left to make snap decisions about what they considered right or wrong.
Another main issue is how society would cope with these heroes living among us. If we relied on these few heroes and then they fucked up, what would be the response? Would we place them above society’s normal values and concerns or would we ensure that they toed the line - that they conform to ‘normal’ society.
The book is slightly dated, rooted in the idea of the cold war and the east / west issue, but this distance helps to gain a perspective, though it would be interesting to see the book set in today’s celebrity, reality TV, ‘terrorist around ever corner’ obsessions.
Off out tonight to see a couple of authors (one of which is the writer of ‘Scar Night’) in discussion. Will report back soon with details.
Read this week: Watchmen by Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons
The Killing Kind by John Connolly
Thursday, May 10, 2007
The cat, the gnome and the green man
Friends arrived from New Zealand last weekend. It was good to see them after nine months living in Scotland. They were doing a tour around Europe visiting friends and family and we were first on the list for ‘the cat’ and ‘Gnome’.
Whilst much drinking and merriment was had I tried to think of something for them to do that allow out livers to recover and finally decided on taking them to Rosslyn Chapel. I have wanted to visit Rosslyn for many years after reading about it and the number of ‘Green men’ it contained but had been put off to date because of the De Vinci Code tourists.
In typical Scottish weather we paid our fee and joined the others to examine the ornate Gothic interior, with its ‘Apprentice Pillar’ and gargoyles in abundance. The Templar history is a little over done, though the possible last resting place of the chalice is (quite rightly) barely hinted at. And the Green men are fabulous.
The rest of the weekend was spent in bars (five), restaurants (three) and the Royal Botanic Gardens.
Whilst much drinking and merriment was had I tried to think of something for them to do that allow out livers to recover and finally decided on taking them to Rosslyn Chapel. I have wanted to visit Rosslyn for many years after reading about it and the number of ‘Green men’ it contained but had been put off to date because of the De Vinci Code tourists.
In typical Scottish weather we paid our fee and joined the others to examine the ornate Gothic interior, with its ‘Apprentice Pillar’ and gargoyles in abundance. The Templar history is a little over done, though the possible last resting place of the chalice is (quite rightly) barely hinted at. And the Green men are fabulous.
The rest of the weekend was spent in bars (five), restaurants (three) and the Royal Botanic Gardens.
Wednesday, May 02, 2007
Beltane
Beltane is a pagan festival that heralds the coming of summer and the warmer months. Its resonance is felt in many religions and something akin exists around the word, in one format in another.
I joined several thousand others atop the windy Calton Hill at this years Edinburgh celebration (one of the largest in Europe). Whilst most of the Pagans have been replaced with slightly tipsy students or those hanging on from a 60s acid trip, the colours, sights and smells of the festival were thrilling. 
I feel I didn’t really get to experience the best of it, mainly because the crowds were too thick, but it was certainly something to add to the events list for next year.
Sunday, April 22, 2007
Perhaps he's been abducted by Aliens
Sorry about the lack of an update for the last few weeks but we have finally succumbed to the owner occupier class and bought ourselves a flat. It's in an area of Edinburgh called Tollcross which backs onto the old town. It's an interesting part of the city, I think in the misleading sales pitch of the estate agents it's classed as 'up and coming, with an eclectic mix of urban dwellers'. I think of it as shabby-chic.
That said it has everything I hoped for in out first house. The tenement dates from the 1890s and has plenty of original features such as large windows, original floorboards and smart cornicing. The flat has been fully refurbished by a building firm so the kitchen and bathroom are brand new saving us much time in the decorating and renovating business.
Tollcross is close enough to the city for my liking (a mere 10 mins walk) while at the same time boasting its own shops, delis, restaurants, cinema and bars. We've already tried a few of the hostelry's with Bennet's and the Cloister's being excellent pubs with real fires for lazy Sunday's and Henricks being the more modern bar for when I fancy a glass of wine and something to eat. The cinema is the lovely 'Cameo', which has both art house and mainstream fare. Lady H bought us membership for my birthday so I plan to spend quite a bit of time in front of the silver screen.
I am now writing this from the room we've christened 'the den' at my new desk with (at last) a proper chair. One of the best parts of moving here is the view and from the den I look out over the roof tops of the tenements opposite, an outlook that is dominated a church spire all gothic and dark. It's inspiring.
So now I'm installed its time to turn my attention to all those works that have been sitting in the back of my mind (including a story of brothers lost under London, a short about a mural, and adapting 'The Park' for a comic book) while touting the now complete 'The Missing' to agents. Time to get busy.
Read this week: Heart Shaped Box by Joe Hill
That said it has everything I hoped for in out first house. The tenement dates from the 1890s and has plenty of original features such as large windows, original floorboards and smart cornicing. The flat has been fully refurbished by a building firm so the kitchen and bathroom are brand new saving us much time in the decorating and renovating business.
Tollcross is close enough to the city for my liking (a mere 10 mins walk) while at the same time boasting its own shops, delis, restaurants, cinema and bars. We've already tried a few of the hostelry's with Bennet's and the Cloister's being excellent pubs with real fires for lazy Sunday's and Henricks being the more modern bar for when I fancy a glass of wine and something to eat. The cinema is the lovely 'Cameo', which has both art house and mainstream fare. Lady H bought us membership for my birthday so I plan to spend quite a bit of time in front of the silver screen.
I am now writing this from the room we've christened 'the den' at my new desk with (at last) a proper chair. One of the best parts of moving here is the view and from the den I look out over the roof tops of the tenements opposite, an outlook that is dominated a church spire all gothic and dark. It's inspiring.
So now I'm installed its time to turn my attention to all those works that have been sitting in the back of my mind (including a story of brothers lost under London, a short about a mural, and adapting 'The Park' for a comic book) while touting the now complete 'The Missing' to agents. Time to get busy.
Read this week: Heart Shaped Box by Joe Hill
Monday, March 26, 2007
What the magpie saw…
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.
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.
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.
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