Tuesday's Overlooked A/V: Down with Love

I always want this to be a better movie than it is. A loving tribute to the Doris Day/Rock Hudson films of the 50s but with the latitude of a modern film. Down with Love *should* work, yet it doesn't quite. Nonetheless, it's a fun frothy little romp and for once, Renée Zellweger doesn't annoy too much as her squinty cherubi doll-like face fits the hyper hip fashions and the bouncy feel of it. Ewan MacGregor plays the Lothario part note perfect and with great glee. Sarah Paulson does great as Vikki Hiller, the would be tough editor who can't quite stand up to the old men and really just wants to get married, and of course, the always delightful David Hyde Pierce shows why he should be inundated with roles in the Tony Randall vein. So funny! And yes, terrific to have Randall show up in a cameo, too.

The costumes, the sets -- all perfect. Peyton Reed's direction for the most part maintains that light touch needed for the story, but the script churns to a halt when switching gears. Like a lot of nostalgia production these days, it tries to have it both ways: reveling in the old times and the hilarity of women's lives sucking (-_-) but also 'updating' for a modern audience. And it's the latter part that doesn't quite work. In the end the script is not clever enough to overcome that challenge. It's a difficult thing to do, but I can't help wishing they'd worked harder to do so.

But it has ample charms and it would make a great double feature with Pillow Talk, so give it a whirl. And then drop by Todd's to see other recommendations.


  

Unquiet Dreams & other things

I am so happy to announce that I just signed a contract with Tirgearr Publishing for a collection of short fiction to be called Unquiet Dreams. Stories old and new will be gathered up in this dark bouquet. I'm so excited! Some of these stories have not been available for a long time and people are always asking me about them, so I finally stirred myself to put together what I had. Wow, it's quite a lot! The title comes from Yeats' poem "The Stolen Child" so it's fitting that this comes about in Ireland and with an Irish publisher.

Where the wandering water gushes
From the hills above Glen-Car,
In pools among the rushes
That scarce could bathe a star,
We seek for slumbering trout
And whispering in their ears
Give them unquiet dreams;
Leaning softly out
From ferns that drop their tears
Over the young streams.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.

So this is me whispering in your ears with my unsettling stories, little trouts. More news as we get further along in the process.

I have also agreed to edit an anthology for the brand-spanking-new press Fox Spirit Books called Weird Noir. Here's the skinny on it:

On the gritty backstreets of a crumbling city, tough dames and dangerous men trade barbs, witticisms and a few gunshots. But there's a new twist where urban decay meets the eldritch borders of another world: WEIRD NOIR. Featuring thugs who sprout claws and fangs, gangsters with tentacles and the occasional succubus siren. The ambience is pure noir but the characters aren't just your average molls and mugs—the vamps might just be vamps. It's Patricia Highsmith meets Shirley Jackson or Dashiell Hammett filtered through H. P. Lovecraft. Mad, bad and truly dangerous to know, but irresistible all the same.

This will be fun; it will be coming out later this year. I should also have a story in their anthology Tales of the Nun and Dragon (assuming I get it done soon!). Isn't that cover the best?!

Last but far from least and hot off the presses, it's "My Twitter Wedding" over at Asinine Poetry. If you weren't so interested in this week's other publication, my gritty little crime story "Just Waiting" this might be more to your taste. Pure silliness dedicated to my sweetie. Enjoy.

Writer Wednesday: News

The pressing news is that ACTION: Pulse Pounding Tales Vol. 1 can be obtained for FREE today and tomorrow. This slamming collection offers jam-packed thrills from me, Mr B, editor Matt Hilton, Absolutely Kate, Col Bury, Richard Godwin, Graham Smith, David Barber and many many more. Highly recommended! Not just because I'm in it (though I'm quite fond of "Chickens" which gave me a chance to revisit Los Angeles) but because it's a lot old school non-stop action. As Crimesquad said in its review:


"This book should not be purchased by asthmatics or heavy smokers as it leaves a fit person breathless with excitement."

I had a wonderful trip with the lovely Maura and we both managed to write a lot between enjoying ourselves immensely. A proper write up tomorrow but I have oodles to catch up on with emails and whatnot, so you can get a sneak peak at some of the photos here, beginning with a lovely one out the window of Maura's folks' house.

It's always nice to return home to another new publication. My short "Just Waiting" (yes, it is named after a Fall song >_<) appears over at Near to the Knuckle. Drop by and give it a read, comment and feel free to share -- let me know what you think.

Over at A Knife & A Quill I am Staff Member of the Month :-) Luca gave me a great write up. I have some new reviews going up this week. Unlike some big name reviewers, we don't sneer at writers because of assumptions about genres (and don't get me started on the superannuated NYTimes and their growing idiocy).

Busy busy. Maura and I managed to get a good amount of writing done after attending 2D, so it wasn't all idling on the beach. More to report soon -- get a sneak peak over at the new publisher Fox Spirit!

Six Sentence Sunday: Biscuits

A little treat for this round of Six Sentence Sunday, the weekly banquet of words to help you sample new writers or savour old favourites. Here's the beginning of my postcard-sized story "Biscuits" which you can read in its entirety over at Postcard Fiction.

"You should have been nicer to me," Carlotta said as she stood over me with the tire iron.

"I see that now." I tried to get up, but my leg kept making that crunching sound. "It's not too late. I could mend my ways."

A feeble attempt; one she wasn't buying.

"I'm taking the cash..."

You can also read it over at Short Humour, which has another little bon mot from moi especially for British people in hot weather and anyone with an interest in geography. Enjoy! And be sure to check out the other Sunday Six folks.

Tuesday's Overlooked A/V: A Gun for George

A Gun for George offers the new Walter Mitty for a 21st century.

Terry Finch is a frustrated pulp fiction author and eternal loner looking for brutal revenge on the mean streets of East Kent.

This short film offers a fascinating (and funny!) look at a few tropes that are instantly recognisable to any film fan. It has a vintage look, but takes place now(ish), deliberately mashing up past and present to embody those colliding impulses.

Hard-bitten, gritty, pulpy crime narratives: British television used to rule on this front, as Mr B has written about a few times here and there. It's a trend that's exploding again lately: tough, he-man grit, but it's often one that can seemingly only happen in fantasy -- either hedged around with nostalgia or set in an unquestioned past.

The appeal rests on the idea that average men, who once had the unquestioned assumption of male power and privilege, find that has been taken away or at least become complicated. Some blame the usual targets (women and minorities rather than patriarchy and capitalism), but these films and similar books show a world that many long for --  one with uncomplicated interactions where good triumphs over evil even if it has to bend the rules to do so (think Dirty Harry and Charles Bronson films). It's not purely a male fantasy.
 
However it has often been a genre without women, except as easily-discarded sex partners, dames to be rescued or mirrors for their manliness, and as well as one where the Other can be easily distinguished by visible markers (i.e. race or ethnicity). It's a genre I'm writing in a lot lately, so I'm intrigued by all this backward splashing of nostalgia and modernity. Sometimes it is deliberately set in the past (like my story "Chickens") but other times it's happening right now ("Bill is Dead"). It's about world building in either case: that's what a lot of mimetic fiction writers don't always get -- it's all about world building.* 

[Need I add that most of the writers I've met working in the genre are not like Terry Finch, fine gentlemen and ladies who play nice and prove generally kind and inclusive to everyone? Naah, you know that.]

Let me get back to the film (instead of writing what will probably be my next PCA presentation on gender and nostalgia in noir fiction judging by this >_<).  Yes, the film examines the place of the displaced 70s man of action. It's also hilarious! It's pure Dunning-Kruger in action (oh dear, another paper that wants to be written) because Terry Finch thinks he's really an awesome tough-guy writer and everything we see demonstrates that he is not.

East Kent Grit: what a lovely concept.

Best laugh perhaps comes when a doctor cautions him, "If you must write, do it away from the sick and the vulnerable." And his caravan! HAHAHAHA!

See the site for The Reprisalizer, Terry Fincher's pulp star ("Real Name: Bob Shuter"). While it's a bit neglected of late, it provides dead on, awesomely realistic creations of vintage pulpy goodness. The whole created world of Terry Finch shows such care and attention to detail. Wonderful!

See Todd's blog for the round-up of overlooked gems.

*One of the reasons I have to spend so much time getting my students to visualise the medieval world; without a lot of explanation, my students tend to see history as just now with a hat on (a funny medieval hat in that instance). A lot of mimetic fiction neglects world building and often readers assume they know the world in which a story takes place only to be brought up short when they stumble across something that doesn't fit their own experience.

Six Sentence Sunday: Grotesque

Another Sunday has rolled around, giving you the opportunity to spot new writers you might like with the Six Sentence Sunday crew. A great, simple concept that seems to be very effective. My six this week come from a short that's been under submission for a bit now; I've become so good at the "submit & forget" that until a chance bump to the memory regurgitated it, I had forgotten the story existed and also where I had sent it, so I had to dig around to find it. Some detective work, eh? All I knew: it was named after a Fall reference.

Yeah, that narrows it down.

So here's a bit from "Grotesque" which is out there trying its luck (and now I know where). I picked a few lines describing the pub where most of the story takes place. Loosely based on a pub I know, but made much much worse, naturally; that's what fiction's all about. The scene begins with an explanation why no women have ever crossed its threshold:

Perhaps that could be blamed on the décor, which ranged from brown to more brown. Or the ambience that derived from unwashed and mostly middle aged men just off shift. The young lads all went to the shiny new sports pubs with their cacophonous screens and drinks with asinine names that they swilled back like candy. 

We had two kinds of lager here and one of ale, with Guinness on the side for the old men from the isle. In the summer you could also get cans of Budweiser to take out into the 'beer garden': a picnic table on a concrete square between the rubbish tip and the gray wall of the car park. The chief appeal seemed to be you were allowed to spit out there.

I'll let you know if/when something comes of it. I'm sure it will eventually.



       

Friday's Forgotten Books: Complete Nonsense

Tomorrow is the 200th anniversary of Edward Lear's birth. There's a terrific blog that keeps track of all the events and and another that prints pages from Lear's diary. In a wonderful piece in the Independent David Quantick wrote winningly about Lear and the appeal of nonsense. I have to say, I was convinced before I ever read it that, "A little bit of nonsense is the secret of a sane life." Lear is one of those touchstones to which I always return.




You can't really go wrong where ever you start, but you may find you don't want to end. And there's all kinds of places to read on the web, if you don't have the money to spend. But The Complete Verse and Other Nonsense of course will give you much intercourse with rhymes that will soon become friends.

I wrote a poem and passed it off as one of Lear's. I had it published in Asinine Poetry. And then I made this recording. More nonsense, please.

listen to ‘There Was a Professor of English’ on Audioboo

Drop by Patti Abbott's blog Todd's blog this week and next for the full roundup. Mr Lear is part of a mighty triumvirate celebrating birthdays tomorrow, including Tony Hancock and the delightful Mr B. Happy birthday, boys!

Now in Print: Drunk on the Moon

Yes, it's true: Drunk on the Moon is now available in print, too. Those of you who've been putting off getting it because you don't read them fancy ebook whatchamajiggers can now retire to your boudoirs with a good ol' paperback of Mr B and the pack.

Here's a silly thing I wrote back in the day for Mr B's blog when I first wrote "It's a Curse":

In the Mind of the Wolf

  When Mr B asked me if I wanted to contribute to the Drunk on the Moon series, I knew I had to get into the head of the werewolf. How could I write from Roman Dalton's perspective if I had not lived in his world? I had to know him from the inside out. I immediately set up a plan to immerse myself in the wolf mind. I set my plan in motion leading up to the full moon.

  DAY ONE

  I listened to The Fall non-stop, The Infotainment Scam. Not only had I chosen the song "It's a Curse" as my touchstone, but I knew the hypnotic drone of Mark E. Smith's voice and the grinding pummeling of the music would help me reach the altered state I sought. After twenty-four hours without food or drink, just the steady beat on repeat I was feeling the effects. My hair grew, my nails sharpened. I began to drool. Right on schedule.

  DAY TWO

  I moved outside; the wolf must be wild. Fortunately I live right above a park. There's not much land, but there are hedges along the edge that I thought might provide enough cover for me. I crouched in the green border and watched the people. They were my prey. I had to know their weaknesses. They had many. And few defences. But as the sun set, they thinned out. Also, there was too much broken glass and SuperMac wrappers in the hedges. I needed another hunting ground.

  DAY THREE

  I moved to the cemetery. There was more cover there and since I had ripped off my clothes I needed to stay warm. Winter is harsh on the wolf. I chewed on a bone to sharpen my teeth. Despite my focus, they were not sufficiently lethal yet. The dead were good company. However, there was a shortage of victims. Perhaps a disaster of some kind would provide more fodder for the chase.

  DAY FOUR

  Memory sketchy. Trees scratchy. Dirt cold. Throat sore from howling. Running so far, so far. There were others. I was not alone. Something squeaked. Older woman made hand signals at me, sketching a five-pointed star. Bite marks on my flesh. I may have grown a tail, not sure.

  DAY FIVE: FULL MOON

  Blood. Flesh. Teeth. Profiteroles.

  DAY SIX: RECOVERY

  I returned indoors. Dressed and ate food that I had not killed myself. Got the computer out. Typed madly, in a trance. Remember nothing. Grammar inexcusable. Older woman reappeared; asking for recommendations of internet suppliers. Emailed story to Mr B. Slept for fourteen hours. Filed nails. Applied moisturizer. Brushed teeth. Remembered to use cutlery. Started a new story. Buried bones. Write more...

Biscuits & Pillowman

Short fiction: there's something fun about it. An idea from head to page in a flash and then -- at least sometimes -- on to publication. Here's my story "Biscuits" that I wrote for a contest. I got it back with the note that while some of the judges had voted for me I did not win. Them's the breaks. I can deal. I'm just happy to share the story and grateful to the Short Humour Site for wanting to share it.

Saturday night the club down below in my Ballardian dwelling was a bit too loud so I went to bed in the guest room. Now, how lucky am I that I have a guest room to use? But the bed in it is not as cuddly as my own bed. So after going to bed around one am or so, I woke at half three suddenly. Why?

The Pillowman.

I had a picture in my head of him hiding in the wardrobe. I have to say, I should probably blame Mildred for mentioning the play recently because the students put on a production at IU. Although I suppose I should really blame the Houston Stage production that put that very image in my head years ago -- because it stayed there and came out to haunt me that night.

That's brilliant.

I crawled back to my own bed and went back to sleep. It was all right. But such power -- I want to write stories that do that. Okay, maybe not stories that frighten (well some), but stories that awe. And stay with you even years later. Oh yes.

I'm off on travels this bank holiday Monday. News when I return.

Six Sentence Sunday: Chickens

My latest publication is another crime story: yes, that seems to be my groove now. I'm even going to the Theakstons Old Peculier Crime Writing Festival in July the better to network and immerse myself in the crime writing world. Should be fun, eh?

My story "Chickens" takes place in 1968, when a couple of Bakersfield irregulars decide to leave the farm behind and go mess with some hippies, the phenomenon they've learned about from watching the nightly news with the elder statesman of television, Walter Cronkite. Bonus appearance by Cal Worthington and his dog Spot!

I killed all the chickens the day I left. I'd have preferred to kill Maw but I wasn't ready at the time for a crime of such proportions and besides, I was looking forward to saying to Bud with a laugh, "I spent the morning chokin' chickens!" because I knew he'd laugh like he always does in that hee-haw kind of way. Maw always said he was half ass anyway (the only funny thing she ever said in her miserable life that I can recall) but I forgot to tell him because he was so excited about buggin' out to the smoggy wonderland.

"We're gonna get some girls," Bud said, hee-hawing a mile a minute as we pulled away from their farm. Dawn in Bakersfield, the most uninspiring sight a body can see anywhere in this great nation I am sure. The golden light just cast a beautiful glow on the stunted fields and ugly houses of mile after mile of failing farms and subsidized indolence...

Matt Hilton edited this monster-sized anthology -- nearly 300 pages of non-stop mayhem, including folks like my pal Mr B and Richard Godwin, Absolutely Kate, Col Bury, David Barber, Graham Smith and many many more. Chock full of action, just like it says on the tin -- er, cover. Vol 2 already in the planning stages. This is going to be big!

As usual, drop by to see all the Six Sunday offerings.

Friday's Forgotten Books: Many Happy Returns

I am doing my taxes today which leaves little time for writing at present. I am somewhat abashed to find I spent over $6300 on travel last year. As luxuries go, that's one of the best.

I have Many Happy Returns: An Unofficial Guide to Your Income Tax Problems by Groucho Marx. I believe my brother Bertie bought it for me (either that or the lovely edition of Beds or quite possibly both). Alas, it's in storage in New York (having seen what it's going for, I hope it is in the good storage and not the outdoor place), so I won't be able to quote directly. Trust me, it's fun. As the man said,"Time flies like an arrow. Fruit flies like a banana," so we can all say,"From the moment I picked your book up until I laid it down I was convulsed with laughter. Someday I intend reading it."



  As always, see the round-up of recommendations at Patti's blog.

Tuesday's Overlooked A/V: Beckett's Film

Beckett is funny: people seem to often overlook that fact. Productions of Waiting for Godot that get that fact tend to be much better than those with dour seriousness. You put his craggy mug up there and suddenly it's art with a capital Arrrr! Slapstick is a fundamental element of his work however, so no surprise that he worshipped Buster Keaton. Yes, Keaton by 1965 suffered the effects of his dissolution, but it suits the haggard bemusement of his character in this short film. Beckett himself referred to Film as "an interesting failure"; considering how many dull successes fill the theatres at present, that seems infinitely preferable.



Even newly anointed big-stuff-with-a-show-at-the-Tate-Mod Damien Hirst has done Beckett.

As always, check Sweet Freedom for the round up of other gems. If you watch this on t'Tube you'll see a bunch of other videos featuring both Beckett and Keaton; indulge yourself. Another great resource for arty indulgences, if you don't already know about it, is UbuWeb.

Wednesday Wit: How to Eat

Humo(u)r

A hasty post as I'm still entertaining my delightful guests, who seem to be having a good time. I know I am, though I'm also aware of my shortcomings as a hostess. I'm used to living on my own, never paying attention to clocks (except once a week :-) and not planning ahead. But there's plenty to enjoy in  Galway -- and no, not just the pubs!

I'm one of the writers featured in this month's BroadPod on the topic of humor (or humour -- I have to keep shifting back and forth between American and British/Irish spellings that every word begins to look slightly suspect and editors in various countries sigh at me). I read from The Mangrove Legacy, so you can get a taste of that if you haven't already (why haven't you?!).

Six Sentence Sunday: The Big Splash

I had the best time writing this story. After reading too much P. G. Wodehouse (too much? is that possible?) and some Winifred Watson, I was full of madcap story ideas and thought it would be fun to try to set a story in Jazz Age London. I wrote The Big Splash in a kind of fever over the Christmas break between semesters. It ended up being a novella instead of a short as I intended, but I had such a grand time inventing my own Bertie and Jeeves. I have an idea for a new one, so Constance and Collier will get another outing soon. Here we meet the best friend, who makes our heroine look positively sensible in comparison. Yes, of course I found an excuse for someone to say that immortal line.

Both their heads turned at a sudden outburst of noise. As Constance suspected, the sound accompanied the arrival of her friend, the irrepressible Hardie. All of her entrances seemed to include dropping things, making loud excuses, and happily shrieking greetings, though at times they had also included gunshots, fire, and the occasional oran-utang. 

"Con-stance!" Hardie shouted across the room as she bashed into a small planter, then corrected her path by jostling an elderly judge who harrumphed most alarmingly. His equally ancient partner brought up her lorgnette to examine the madwoman who walloped her way across the room, leaving destruction in her wake. 

"Constance, darling! What a delight to see you!" Hardie grabbed her shoulders and kissed each cheek in turn as if they had been parted for years rather than the space of a mere day and a half. 

Be sure to check out all the Six Sentence Sunday posts and discover some new writers.

Women's Day, Con-Eire & BitchBuzz

Happy International Women's Day! A day to celebrate and a day to chastise because there's a long way to go yet and I'm getting more than a little impatient at fighting the same battles I have fought since childhood. There has been progress, I remind myself, but there's a long way to go until NO ONE gets dismissed or disrespected on account of gender. This is for all of us.

Of course, I celebrate the day in my usual way: a new publication. Well, not exactly new -- Con-Eire has been available in an expensive print edition which kind of missed the point of it being a fun and light-hearted thing. Now it's available for your Kindle or ebook reader for just $1.99.

Having just come back from a terrific con experience (which may have seemed anything but until it began), I had a lot of fun and chuckles while editing and updating this, including removing a couple of references to MySpace (!?) and some other tech innovations. Wow, so much has changed in just a few short years. But the over all issues remain the same for any event of this kind. I'm really proud that Lee Martindale (who also took a role in the premiere performance) gave me such a lovely blurb.

"From the bowels of back-of-house, from the deepest, darkest, most secret chambers of arcane ConComm knowledge, comes a screamingly funny glimpse into what’s behind the curtain at a science fiction convention. Fairy-dusted hilarity served with a side order of giggles."

It reminds me of the good old days of Trinoc*coN and there's a new dedication to Susan and Mildred (and Birdie and Ron) in it, with the hope that the next Three Mothers reunion won't be too far away. In the meantime, it's back to work including cleaning for the arrival of the Queen of Everything and Marko this weekend. Hurrah!

  

One of the things that simplified the process of making an ebook of Con-Eire was the wonderful new open source platform called Booktype. I was so delighted with it, I wrote about it in my column today for BitchBuzz.  I was really glad to find that:

 

"Booktype has been developed by the folks at Sourcefabric who have an ambition to foster independent journalism around the world by creating software to facilitate its development for print, digital and on air delivery."

Read the whole piece over at BBHQ.

Six Sentence Sunday: High Plains Lazarus

I began writing this story about a day before I went off to Trinoc*coN one year, because I knew I had to read something and I suddenly decided I hated everything I'd ever written (yes, I have those kind of days). It came from the voice: as soon as I heard Finn's voice in my head, I knew I had a winner. I hadn't planned to write a zombie western -- and I didn't know that it would end up being a 10,000 word novelette that really would like to be a novel. In time, in time.

As another bottle went whizzing by my head I knew that I had made some serious miscalculations. I knew too that Jim was like to kill me because of those miscalculations, but at the moment the shambling wreck of a corpse was a much more pressing issue. I had unloaded most of my pistol into it already when Jim shouted that I should quit wasting bullets like they were made of manure and throw something more substantial, but somehow guns still seemed like a good idea. Cursing his illustrious forebears, I finally holstered my beloved pearl-handled Colts and looked around for something heftier. The dead guy continued his staggering plunge toward me, so I grabbed a chair and flung it wildly across the room. It fetched up a glancing blow on his shoulder, which spun him around to the left...

You can pick this story up in the collection Rotting Tales from Pill Hill Press. Fun stuff there -- get your zombie on and go west.



 

Whoosh, Whomp & Whoogah

Photo by Eileen Smith

Okay, sue me -- I love alliteration. It's the Anglo-Saxon and Old Norse poetry what are to blame. Besides, these are words that are fun to say out loud. Go on, do it. I'll wait.

Okay? So the "whoosh" is because January is nearly done. Eeek! How has the first month of 2012 passed by so quickly? I suppose starting off the year with a fun visit from Miss Wendy and then beginning to teach a course has something to do with that. And I have been writing madly, too. Another whoosh must be the wings of the now-captured Clepington Owl, so alas, I will not get a chance to see her when I get back to Dundee shortly. I'm sure the cats are glad. Yes, more PR from the zeitgeist in advance of Owl Stretching. Hope to hear the release date soon!

I have a short story up at Short-Story.Me -- a little gruesome tale called "Yuletide Feast" that probably would have been a little more timely last month, but you know how it is. I actually wrote this years ago and recently discovered that it had not been published (how does that go, you may ask: well, scrolling through my Stories folder looking for something that I can't remember what title I gave >_< and seeing a title that I also don't remember... see why I need minions?!) and sent it off. Bingo. 

I have also received an award from the lovely Jeanne Andrew: The Versatile Blogger Award. The rules of this harmless bit of fun are: to thank those that nominated you; to copy-and-paste the award logo in your own blog; to tell your readers seven random facts about you; and to nominate further blogs that you follow, and let them know.

Right, here goes: Thank you, Funny Girl Jeanne. You are a delight of my Twitter timeline :-)



Seven random things about me:

1) My favourite thing on the new iPad: bongos! Seriously.
2) I watched Jaws for the umpteenth time last night and it never gets old.
3) I like to sing along with Dusty Springfield and make all her dramatic arm gestures.
4) I wish I could have met Peter Cook just once, to see those eyes and hear that laugh.
5) I want to write sparkling prose that will live forever; I get around the anxiety and paralysis this causes by telling myself, "Well, not today obviously."
6) There is an indestructible happiness inside me.
7) I don't know where the stories I write come from; I just try to be friends with my head, as the great Russell Hoban put it, and simply write down what it tells me. So far, that's been working out.

Right: so here are some blogs you ought to be checking out, i.e the award winners! Some of these will be to give a kick in the muse for the folks I point to, as they have been neglectful of their blogs [gives severe look]. I see Mr B has already received one recently, so I won't add him to the list, but you should always drop by his gaff for some laffs (yes, spelled that way).

Lochee has has not updated his blog since posting some fetching pictures of Karen Gillan. Tsk!

The fabulous QoE always has some wonderful new art up. Stop by and show her the love.

Miss Wendy will surely have some stories to share about her visit here soon.

The poet of Rome, Alessandra, always has lovely things to share. Her sweetie, John, always has some darkness to offer, too.

The lovely jubbly Chloë also has a blog! She will delight and amuse you.

Have you checked out the Apocalypse Girls? If not, why not! And while you're at it, be sure to drop by UnBound to catch up on all the latest. They will be covering Alt.Fiction, where I will be doing a one-on-one with Graham Joyce (gulp!) about the darkness of fairy tales, as well as another explaining why pretty much all Alan Moore adaptations suck -- and probably reading some flash fiction in the open mic.

The usual suspects: if you're reading my blog, chances are you already read Todd, Patti and Elena as well: if you don't I simply have to ask, Are you mad?! Hee. You have all been given the versatile blogger award: no speeches required, just take a moment to reflect on the work that you've done and pat yourself on the back.

Well, that should give the rest of you plenty to get started reading. Are you blogging? Do I know that? Should you be sending me a link? That's the thing: we're all busy people. I won't know you've written something unless you tell me (see how I trumpet every little thing here). Share your words -- that's why you write, isn't it? Whoogah!

BitchBuzz: Why the Blackout Mattered

An unusual day: me away from the net. Be honest -- you didn't really notice I was gone, did you? It's all right. I know occasionally I should take a break from yammering across all media. Besides, I took some more lovely photographs over in Salthill. Nothing jazzes up a photo like a happy, bouncing Lab.

I also managed to finish a story and send it off to my editor: it was meant to be 5K but ended up closer to 8K. Also not like me: if you get paid the same, why go over the target? Well, sometimes the story demands it. Characters can be so pushy. Thinking about tonight's Over the Edge reading, I also thought I should have something on hand to read in case I can get on the list, so I finally started writing the new novel. Yes, about time after thinking about it for so long. It reminded me that the best way to edit your writing is to read it out loud. I know that, but I seem to always forget it. You may ask, how's that academic essay coming along? [cough] Today for sure! Here: go read Peter Cook's Jekyll and Hyde script and stop hassling me.

Better yet, go read the column, featuring a rudely hilarious animated GIF from The Oatmeal:

Why the Blackout Mattered

K. A. Laity

After some speculation about whether they would take part, it was telling that Google applied the now familiar black censorship bar over their corporate logo (in the U.S. anyway—Google.ie continued in normal mode). More obvious homes of net freedom like Boing-Boing, Reddit, Wikipedia and Wordpress likewise blacked out for the day, but the participation of Google confirmed the broadening opinion that even for a mega-global outfit like Google SOPA and PIPA continue to be very bad ideas.

The so-called "Stop Online Piracy Act" and the "Protect IP Act" would radically affect everyone who uses the net, by making a criminal of anyone who links to anything deemed to be copyrighted material as explained by the always insightful Stephen Colbert. Why catch criminals when you can make everyone a criminal? Anyone who thinks that of course the laws won't be abused this way by corporations should follow the horrifying saga of how the Recording Industry Association of American (RIAA) and the Motion Picture Association of America (MPAA) have already invoked draconian measures against anyone they can catch—apparently because they're frustrated with not being able to catch real criminals.

People who do not understand the internet should not be legislating for its control; the sad fact is they allow corporations like the RIAA and MPAA to do it for them. While many people will support measures to stop internet piracy, those who do not comprehend how these poorly written measures will forever change the net need to know that Facebook, Twitter and all the rest will be as dead as Napster should SOPA or PIPA pass...

Read the rest at BBHQ. And hey, call your representatives and remind them they represent you and not multimillionaire corporations: fight the real enemy.

 

Tuesday's Overlooked Films: The Long Kiss Goodnight

I got into a discussion on Twitter with Anne Billson about Finnish music and films, and we both lamented the lack of love in Hollywood for Renny Harlin when people like Ridley Scott continue to be trumpeted. I suppose I have a weakness for a Finnish director who always manages a little nod to his homeland in the midst of a blockbuster, whether it's a pirate ship flying the blue and white flag in Cutthroat Island or the Finlandia vodka prominently served in Deep Blue Sea. I find it hard to believe that I have not written about this film here before, but I searched the blog and turned up nothing, so let's assume it's true (yes, I did mention it in a column on holiday films for BitchBuzz).

I love this movie.

A lot of this is down to Geena Davis' winning performance as the amnesiac suburban mom who discovers she's really a lethal weapon. Davis has done a lot of work behind the scenes since then with the Geena Davis Institute on Gender in Media and while promoting the film she spoke about how her then-husband Harlin would balance the punishment she took on screen with therapeutic massage at night. She takes a beating in this film, but she's also warm and funny as well.





Samuel L. Jackson is great fun of course: Shane Black's script (written before repeating Lethal Weapon films sucked a lot of life out of him) sets him up as fairly hapless and yet always hopeful, though he can't get song lyrics right (heh!). Brian Cox is terrific (of course) in a small role and utters one of the funniest lines in the film (although the humour is due as much to his dry delivery as to the line). Craig Bierko makes for a fetching psychopath. David Morse and Patrick Malahide offer terrific performances as well in supporting roles. But this is Davis' star turn and she makes the most of it.

Chefs do that.

See the round-up of overlooked films, television and other audio-visuals over at Todd's blog. And if you haven't seen this film? Do. Look, it's really cheap. And it totally kicks ass.