Movies of 2013

It is that time of year again. Or better yet, let me remember that this is the first end of year I've had on this blog and state instead that this time of year is usually when I do a round-up of the films I've seen during the year and rank my top five. I used to do it a lot more in-depth, but time is short, lots to do, people to see...you get the picture. Allow me to proceed.

Les Miserables
The Impossible
Pitch Perfect
Movie 43
Flight
This is 40
A Good Day to Die Hard
The Great and Powerful Oz
The Incredible Burt Wonderstone
Identity Thief
Oblivion

*exasperated sigh*

It is currently essay season in college. Fun times? Not so much. Particularly when you're just home from college after spending the day (since 9 o'clock this morning!!!) in the library.

One down, a million billion zillion to go.

Oh, okay, I exaggerated a little with that million billion marlarky. That's just how it feels. I've an English one due on Friday. 3,000 words. *insert panicked face here* I should probably go start that...Anyone like to remind me why I thought a return to academia was a good idea?

The Day of The Doctor

I'm a Potterhead, Sherlocked and a Whoivan. I am also a big cinephile. I love everything about the cinema-going experience. The popcorn. The over-priced tickets. The sense you get when in the middle of a great crowd, all ready and willing to be entertained.
But never in all my trips to the cinema have I experienced the atmosphere that was last nights screening of The Day of The Doctor in cineworld. There were fezzes, pin-striped suits and even a forth Doctor, and that was just the crowd. (I lacked any Who-inspired clothing, which disappointed me. I did wear my Loki Charms t-shirt though, you know, just to show some geek.)

1. The bar part was somewhat pimped out with Bad Wolf posters and had Sonic Screwdrivers cocktails on offer. Sadly, we were the later showing and there wasn't much left. Not even a coke to wet my whistle, I had to make do with a diet coke *shudder*
2. Never has it been so packed. There was a queue for the pre-booked ticket machines. (never seen that before!) You couldn't move in the corridor for the crowd awaiting to go in.
3. The sense of camaraderie was something else. Strangers were stopping each other in the foyer and along the corridors complimenting each others t-shirts, costumes and fezzes. Oh, there were sooo many fezzes! (That's because fezzes are cool!) People were picking up conversations with people in the seats in front of them, behind them, and none of it was to complain. It was all excited Who-themed talk and many people offered their neighbours a Jelly Baby or two.
4. Clapping. Cheering. Gasping. Laughing. The 50th anniversary inspired it all. One guy was so utterly thrilled by the Curator that I think he bust an internal organ for the little joyous dance he did in his chair.

It was an entirely new experience, and one I wish would happen more often. It was a pleasure to be a Whoivan and witness that little pocket of time-wimey when the Doctor inspired nothing but thrilling bliss tinged with expectations of the grandest sort.

Mischief Managed

Well I guess it is time to discuss Thor: The Dark World. It's been a week since I first watched it, and maybe this is a late review, but in all honesty I have been busy. Namely by going to see it three times already.

I say already because I'm not opposed to seeing it for a forth time. (c'mon, the DVD release is months away.) Obsessive much? Perhaps. Or perhaps everyone I know was just so eager to see it and knew I wouldn't say no.
I don't even know where to begin? It was wall to wall packed full of awesome. We laughed, we gasped, we clapped.
I was unfortunate enough to be spoiled by some bitch on twitter, and I am also aware that it's not out yet in the rest of the world, so I'm reluctant to say much about the actual plot.
I will, however, say that I am in two minds whether it is as good as or even better than the first one...no, I'm actually not, it out-stripes the first one for the reason: Loki.
While Thor was Thor's movie (obviously) The Dark World is Loki's. He is the passion, the heart and a good proportion of the humour. Behind me, beside me and in front of me, there was someone still giggling at a line or two of Loki's by the end of the film. My nine year old nephew's new catchphrase is "Ta-dah." Hell, it's mine now too :-)

Orange

I am currently eating an orange and its as bitter as my soul.
I mention this solely because I'm taking a quick snack break from my neo-Assyrian rule in Israel and Judah essay, and when your typing with one finger on one hand, sometimes you can only state the obvious.
When I am finished with my sour orange orb and made a good dent into my essay I will delve into how awesome Thor: The Dark World was and is. Or perhaps I'll do it now because IT WAS COMPLETE AWESOME!!!! Then again, I do kinda want to pass college this year. Boo-urns!

God of Thunder

It's been a long time since I've believed in Santy, yet I still recall the excited nights Sean and I would spend glancing out the windows, running wildly about upstairs in our brand new pyjamas, all expectant and wide awake.

Oh that excitement was fun! And sadly bouts of wild giddiness don't come around yearly for me anymore. Now they come around when a new Thor is due to hit the big screen. Ye-oh!
That's right, this time tomorrow I will be purchasing my popcorn and my coke and getting set for a Thor double-bill - or more importantly, LOKI double-bill. Yum yum! - and a return to Asgard.

I am RIDICULOUSLY excited for this. Like, so beyond excited that if excitement was a line in the sand, I'm so far beyond it, the line is a dot to me. (I love that Joey Tribiani quote and have always wanted to use it.)

We bought our tickets ages ago so really, I should be grand - I've waited this long, right?! - yet tomorrow isn't coming fast enough for my liking! I cannot wait to slip on my Loki Charms T-Shirt and kick back and watch the god of Thunder kick dark-elven ass!

*tumbleweed*

There have been no new posts lately simply because there is nothing new happening. I'm still struggling to keep up with college work. Still looking forward to the Thor double bill (eight days and counting.) I'm still watching films and reading books. And it's still raining.
What's really odd is the fact that this isn't my first blog. (The others are now defunct - I put them on permanent hiatus by way of privacy settings when I started this one up.) But yet, despite having less going on in my life while keeping them, I updated more often. Practically daily, in fact.

I never had much to say, in all fairness, but I did have moans. A lot of moans. And I made a decision when I began Moonlight Quill not to bring over all that pessimism. Now, as it turns out, I've nothing without them. I'm one big moaning Michael, to steal a line from Father Ted.

I might rehash an old theme I used on my old, old blog. Weekly I will write about a subject that I love most.
(I like that idea, it gives me an excuse to babble on about John Frusciante. Which is never a bad thing.)

Bridge to Terabithia

*Spoiler Alert* From The Beginning*

Oh God, why? Why? Why did I watch this movie?
I was so very underprepared. I thought it was a sweet kiddie film of fantasy and friendship. I didn't expect to cry for ten minutes straight when Leslie died. Why did she have to die???? It was like this generations My Girl. Trauma. Major trauma.
*suck it up, be a woman.*
Okay, okay, I'm good now, I promise.

This was one of those films I didn't see in the cinema, I remember it, I just didn't have any interest in seeing it. Stumbling upon it on my sisters Netflix I decided that a fun adventure is what Sunday afternoons are all about.

BoT is not what is says on the tin, or to put it more appropriately, not how it looks in the trailer. It was less fantasy, more lonely boy struggling to find his place in the midst of an all sister family and a cranky ass father who seemed to show more favouritism to his daughters than his son, (I don't know, perhaps it was in a 'because he's a boy, and boys don't need outwardly shows of emotion *flexes muscle*' way?)
His way of escaping comes in the form of Leslie, the new and kooky girl next door. Together they explore their area, imaging the fantasy kingdom, Terabithia, and encountering all its self-imagined mythical creatures. These creatures resembling the issues facing the duo in school and at home.

As stated above, Leslie dies. *quiet sob* No killer bees that saw off Thomas Jay, though, (thus giving me a life long fear of bee-stings, btw) but an accident with the rope Leslie and Jesse used to enter Terabithia (cue a generation frightened of rope-swings) while J wasn't there. Cue survivors guilt from Jesse and hysterical sobbing from me. These films should really come with a warning for emotionally fragile dopes like myself!
And reading back through that, it comes across like I didn't like the film. On the contrary, I loved it. While it lacked the fantasy and much of the adventure I had been expecting, it more than made up for it in heart. Even before the killer emotional punch at the end.

Uni

Everyone always says to me, 'Oh, Trinity. I bet it's just like Hogwarts!' Unfortunately I have to tell them no, 'it is more like Stasi headquarters.'
I'm both English and Ancient Near East departments which places me the majority of the time in the Arts building. It's a dreary aul place. Narrow corridors, grey walls and small classrooms that are equally grey.
This year has seen a change in my classrooms though. I get to have one of my Jews in the Medieval Period in the Museum Building.

The Entrance Hall of the Museum Building

Four others are in Regent House. I've no pictures of Regent House, but allow the name to say it all.

As lecture theatres go, Regent House is the worse possible place for class. Bad acoustics means it's nigh on impossible to hear the lecturer if you're not sitting in the front three rows. It has also got the worse possible chairs for a bad back. But what they do have is two, count them, two bolted panels in the walls. The smallest one is within the heart of the large fireplace. The other stands just to its right.
I've no idea where either go. I can only conclude that one is a short-cut to Hogwarts (it is in the fireplace, after all. Floo network, anyone?!) the other, a doorway to Narnia. It's a reasonable enough theory and not flawed at all, right?

Blackberry Way

It's been a hazy, misty week this week. That type of weather in which it doesn't rain, yet you somehow get home soaked to the skin. That clammy kind of wet. It's hard on your chest and you begin to cough like you're a 40-a-day smoker.
Yes, I know, I'm discussing the weather. How utterly boring I am?!

In my defence, it has put a dampener on my most favourite aspect of this time of year: blackberry picking.
Illness prevented it last week. The week before, holiday. This week it also looks a bust because of the fog and rain. I am sad. If I can't get to go soon, the season will be over.

Blackberry picking was a thing I loved to do as a kid. I still have fond memories of it.
My eldest brother would bring us. We would be mucked up to the eyeballs, hands black from the juice and pockets full of conkers that we'd find along the way. The smell of fire fermented the air as smoke rose from chimney-pots in the near distance. And the aroma of stew would hit you the second you stepped over the threshold of home, leaving your muddy boots in the porch.

All Hallow's Eve

30 days until Halloween. I love Halloween. It's my Christmas, so to speak.

Unfortunately my sister has decided to cancel her Halloween party. I'm so disappointed. I had my costume idea and had begun, kinda-sort of, on it. By which I mean I was going as the Joker when he is dressed as the nurse in that scene in The Dark Knight.
My nephew has a lab coat that he doesn't use, it would have been perfect for the uniform. I was planning on jazzying it up by cutting the sleeves, adding a "Vote Dent" sticker, nurses watch and pairing it with an 80's style belt. But alas! it was no to be. *insert sad face*
I'll now have to make some other alternative plan for Halloween. And a tenner says it includes staying in my sisters and trying my best to get her to watch anything scary. She is wuss to the core. The opening credits of Are You Afraid Of The Dark are even too much for her. It's going to be a trial!

Round-up

Well, it's been a busy few weeks. It involved the holiday to Portugal. A return to college. Catching flu. My TV breaking. And the little teeny-tiny thing that was completion of the first draft of my book. (does a little victory dance)

The holiday was great, even if the food wasn't. It was nice to relax and spend at least a week not worrying about anything.

College has begun, with vengeance. I don't know why people say once first year is over, the hardest part is done. That's very misleading. It's only the second week and I'm having heart-palpations with the amount of work I've to do. Give me one more week and the sleepless nights will begin.
Essays will soon begin to mount up. I don't dare start them just yet though because I simply haven't a clue how to even begin. How can I do an essay on stuff we've yet to cover?

My flu is now beginning to abate. Thank Jebus. But sadly, I think it's too late for the television. That's dreadful news because 1. I'm now missing The Story of The Jews on BBC2 and 2. BBC4 had some great documentaries that I wanted to watch. I'm now unable too.

But that flu/no TV combination wasn't all bad. It meant that I had nothing else to do at the weekend but my whole college weekly readings, and finish my novel. I was a climax and epilogue short prior to Portugal. With college beginning the week I returned, I doubted I'd get the story finished this side of Christmas.
Thankfully I did, and Christmas may be instead spent working on the edits. I feel like rushing straight into edits, but I know it'll be better if I leave it alone for a while, let it mature, so to speak, and come back to it with fresh eyes.

HMV

My beloved has returned. Yes, HMV has re-opened here in the Republic of Ireland. But as with most things it life, it ain't half as good as it used to be!
For 8 months I've been DVD and CD dry. It's been hard, I can tell ya. There was even a time there that I thought I'd never go on another DVD buying binge again. The buzz had been lost.
But like a sip of sherry to Henry Sellers, once that honeyed poison crossed my lips (or to put it in normal words: once I crossed the threshold) I knew I was off the wagon. Big style.
We scanned, we browsed, we insulted Twilight. It was just like the old days.
We exclaimed 'what is this fuckery?' when we noticed the prices. Twenty euro for the new Iron Man 3??? Ouch! Ain't gonna happen, HMV. If I wanted to pay that price I'd purchase it in Golden Discs (at least there I can use my student discount.)
The Friday release of anything new meant you'd get it for thirteen euro, then during the week it went up to at least fifteen. I thought that was the HMV that was returning. Sadly no.
Some box-sets where also very highly priced (Golden Discs high priced) so that was a little surprising too. (Big Bang Theory, Breaking Bad. Same price but I saw Mad Men and Game of Thrones cheaper in GD.)
You just know the price increase was because of the hardship HMV went through, but still, I can't help but weep for the lost of the new release buzz. Twenty euro is just too steep for any movie. I'll be waiting on the sales!

Pay Me No Heed

I really don't want to seem ungrateful, my family very kindly did a bunce-in job and paid for me to accompany them on holiday to Portugal next week: but I could really do with not going.
I don't enjoy sun holidays, I'd rather do the whole city-walking thing. But they were so lovely to suggest it in order to cheer me up I didn't like to seem narky by saying 'I'd rather not.' Besides, at the time a short trip away from all my problems seemed like the greatest plan ever.
But now it's upon me and I'm not excited for it at all. It helps not that I'm still the weight I was pre-summer. That I can't afford anything new to wear. Moping around a chilly Dublin suits my mood a little better than a sunny Algarve.
And now I'm just going to stop moaning like an emo and cop-on to the fact that so many more people in the world have actual problems and don't bitch half as much about them as I do. I'll shut my trap now.

Batfleck

OK, I'll admit it, when I first heard the Batfleck news my initial thought was *shudder* it'll be akin to George Clooney in Batman and Robin *shudder*
I was a big fan of Argo, it was one of the best films I've seen this year so I was also disliking the idea of Affleck moving away from the director's chair and into the Batmobile. But I've just got to get something off my chest: I think he'll be good (no, that's not the confession) simply because *takes deep breath* BaleWasn'tMyFavouriteBatman.
For most Bat fans, Affleck is a disappointment simply because they see him having big shoes to fill. I, on the other hand, didn't think Bale was all that fantastic. He was great, of course, but Keaton will always remain my ideal Bruce Wayne. (or he will until someone better comes along. Could that be Ben Affleck? I don't know, but I'm willing to give him a try!)

Bat for Lashes - Garden Heart

This is wonderful. I've had it on repeat all day today and yesterday.

Bat for Lashes is one of my favourite bands, Natasha is amazing. Her voice is chilling, in the best possible way. I was blown away those years ago when I first heard Horse and I, and I still get that awed feeling from her music. Garden Heart, from the soundtrack of the up-coming How I Live Now, is another one of those stunningly soulful songs that Natasha does so wonderfully. She's beautifully unique.

Random Thought

Why is it when celebrity men are nice, they are deemed gentlemen, yet when Anne Hathaway does it she's condemned as being fake?

The Cliffs of Moher

My face feels like it is on fire! I imagine this is what Hell is like, only without the After Sun.
Irish weather be crazy. Like proper ridiculously crazy. My sunburnt face is courtesy of a drizzly, windy day spend off the west coast of Ireland. To say I didn't wear factor because I didn't think I needed it would be truth. I was soaked for the majority of the trip.

The Cliffs Between The Cliff And The Stack

In the battle of who gave the best birthday present, this year my friend won with the Loki T-Shirt. My planned cruise around the Cliffs of Moher and the Aran island of Inisheer that got I her turned into what we now call, 'That time we were stranded on Craggy Island.'
You know that saying, that 'To Hell or to Connacht' saying? I knew it. Hell, I've used it in my Irish Writing essay. But now I understand it. Rocky, hilly place that it is.
We landed on Inisheer and had to await our boat back to the mainland.
Three hours. THREE hours. With nothing much to do. (We didn't realise it was a landing on the actual island, we had thought it was a cruise around it so didn't particularly prepare for it.) We ended up having a long chat on the beach and multiply caffeine-containing mugs of something or other.
It wasn't all bad, of course. We had a laugh. We saw dolphins and the cliffs did look eerily stunning surrounded  by the mist.

Unfortunately I couldn't take all that many photos. I was leaning on the edge and with the wild bobbing of the ocean I didn't take many chances with my phone in case it should be like Goldie Hawn in that film - overboard.

I'm also excited by the fact that the cliffs were used as the exterior shots of The Cave scene in Half Blood Prince. Getting even a little bit of Potter into things makes me just that little bit happier in life.

Alpha Papa and the City of Bones

Out of the two films I managed to catch this week, one was a let down while the other was surprising enjoyable.
I am referring to The Mortal Instruments: The City of Bones, and Alan Partridge: Alpha Papa, respectively.

I was very disappointed in City of Bones. It had a solid cast and some great sets but it still couldn't be saved from Overload Central. While some things weren't explained, even by the end. (The runes thing wasn't. It seemed just a case of, 'yeah, write these things on you and you'll have that power. Ta-dah!' with no information about the pros and cons of such. Or maybe it was mentioned and I missed it? That was the main problem with the movie.) Other things happened too fast. Too many characters introduced. Stunts in fight scenes were cut too short, so we only really glimpse the character doing a cool back-flip or whatnot, which causes a slight bout of disorientation.
Perhaps as a result of introducing too many people at once. The characters didn't inspire any kind of interest in me. We're never given time to really care about them. When one, I don't even recall his name, was injured I really didn't give two swinging cats whether he survived or not.

Hush Hush

I didn't expect to like and enjoy Hush Hush as much as I did. Aside from the first 38 pages I began the other day, I got through the entire book yesterday. Plus the opening chapter to Crescendo, it's follow-up. I had been in two minds whether to continue with the series, but truthfully that was an intriguing first chapter and I'm a little interested in what's next for Nora and co.
My biggest complaint about the book is the love story side. And I know that's a strange thing to say since it is a YA supernatural novel and the romance side is a huge part of it. But, meh! I wasn't crazy about it. I never got a sense that it was a proper romance. A guy stalking you with the intention of killing you is not my ideal way to start a relationship.
And while Patch wasn't as bad as I was expecting - yes, he's not a nice character, but you know, he's a fallen angel. I was lenient on him being a shit because, by default, he was supposed to be a shit. His pendant for pining Nora to things does creep you out though.
I really liked Nora. She did do some stuff that has you screaming at the page - mainly when Patch was around. And mainly involving the words "punch him harder and run, you silly mare!" - but that kind of interest in a characters actions is good. If MC's are constantly doing what you want them too, well where's the fun in that?
Vee is a good best-friend character too. Again, you're shouting at her. But again she has redeeming characteristics that keep you interested in what happens next.

The whole thing holds up as a great, fast-paced story with likable characters (and some not so nice) and a great concept. I've been into angel mythology for years now so some aspects of it threw me in a - hey, that's not the legends at all - way, but once I got rid of those preconceived notions, it was easy to fall back into Ms. Fitzpatrick's twist on an old favourite.
I'm still a little confused on some matters. I wonder if they'll be explained in later books? Or maybe they were explained in Hush Hush and I just read too fast? I'll have to think about that. As I said above I may or may not continue with the series. I do have Crescendo sitting on my blanket-box-cum-desk so perhaps. It just comes down to time. If I have it I'll read it, but before then I've that novel on Zelda Fitzgerald to get through.

My rating for this would be a 3.5 but I'm in a good mood so it's getting a 4 ****

Hush Hush Indeed

I wasn't much impressed with Hush Hush: The Graphic Novel. It was a simple case of the images of the characters - Nora seemed in some weird overly seductive poses. Patch constantly wore a baseball cap that made up look like a guy you'd call the police on if you saw him loiter around a playground.
I gave the graphic novel up as a lost cause, but still thought I'd give the novel a look-see sometime.
Well that time arrived in the form of the first two books for the bargain price of four euro. I didn't pass it up.
Now I am only like 38 pages in and all I can say WHAT THE HELL IS UP WITH THIS COACH GUY???
Seriously, what the hell? I hope it later mentions that he's under some sort of spell or some other excuse for his behaviour because there is no way in hell this man should be teaching.
Patch is, I can't even saying 'near enough' sexually harassing Nora because he basically is sexually harassing her. And he knows so. This isn't romantic. It's down right creepy. I would have a hard time not punching a guy who goes on like that (vulnerable that bitch!) to me.
But worse of all, Nora goes to an adult to complain and said adult does sweet f. a. That is not a good. Nor a good message to send out. If someone is harassing you and you complain to someone and they do nothing - GO OVER THEM UNTIL YOU ARE HEARD. You have the right to feel safe!
Urgh! I don't even know if I can continue because if this goes down the co-dependent/stalking dressed up as twue luv relationship route, I'm gonna be angry.

Hush Hush indeed. It seems a case of 'hush hush, say nothing because it's most likely just over-reaction on your part. But don't worry, when he eventually murders you in a case of "If I can't have you..." we'll take note of your earlier issue.'

Books vs Films

I hate being late to a film, part of it is because I hate trying to find a seat in the dark. But mostly it's because of the trailers. I love a good trailer. I particularly love those trailers that make you wish you were seeing that film instead of the one you're actually about to see.

The Wolverine had some great trailers; Thor: The Dark World, The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug, The Mortal Instruments: City of Bones.

I became strangely aware that I really, really want to see City of Bones. It looks amazing. It's hard for me to say that because sometimes part of me wants to punch something when I think about that particular series of books. And I don't fully understand why.
I think it's because I know it's history i.e. it's Harry Potter fanfiction origins. But while I am all for fanfiction, it irritates me no end when the word 'muddies' is mentioned. (Muddies. Short for mundanes, The Mortal Instrument's term for humans. C'mon, it really is just a poor rip-off of 'muggles.' Does that annoy the hell out of anyone else or is it just me?)

The Conjuring

An audience can make or break a movie. Unfortunately that's true on many levels. A showing in the local cinema on the all-tickets-a-fiver night meant that it was jammed packed. The audience I witnessed The Conjuring with sure as hell nearly broke it for me. Luckily it was a good enough movie to withstand annoying skanger central.

Morons screaming unnecessarily, people shouting 'boo' thinking they're funny (the first time, maybe, but by the tenth time it's not funny, not original, so why continue?) and worse of all, eejits talking constantly. I would have walked out if not for the fact that I have never in my life walked out on a horror, and I didn't intend to do so in the middle of a packed cinema during a film that couldn't scare me if Jimmy Savile ghosts jumped out from the screen.

The film itself: clichéd jump-a-thon that was somehow saved by the end. I loved the end.

After counting four clichés in the first few minutes I decided to stop. I've ruined so many movies by over-analysing. My problem is I like to write ghost stories, so I can't help but analyse them, find the pitfalls, find what work, and twist them. This just happens to put a dampener on my enjoyment.
I'm still awaiting that one film that scares me, as it stands World War Z made me jump more than The Conjuring. A grand total of one jump.

On the bright side I now know what I'm getting my uber windy sister for Christmas: an Annabelle Doll. She didn't (wouldn't) see the film, so I described it to her as 'think Chucky's Victorian girlfriend.' And then I put a picture of Annabelle as her mobile's locked-phone wallpaper. Now, with every call she gets, it looks like Annabelle is ringing. I am pleased with my messing!

Annabelle is watching you. And she doesn't not approve.

Random Conversations

Me: *flipping through a magazine* Oh, yay! Grunge is coming back into fashion.

Sister: You never left the Grunge period.

Me: Yeah, I know. But now it looks like I'm ahead of the trend.

Perfection is Umpossible

I can't help but think I could have my story completely and all by now if I treated my first draft as just that - a first draft.
It's ok to make mistakes. It's ok to continue onwards and upwards knowing it's not perfect. That's why editing is a thing.
I need to get all this through my head because I'm slowing myself up significantly by pouring over every word I type out, then going back to fix certain words and emotions. Note to self: DO THIS LATER. It doesn't have to be perfect right now at all!

Another note to self: get back to work and stop pissing about on the internet.
There! Glad I listen.

That Charming Loki

My parents have yet to see it. When they do they will no doubt give me the look that says 'does your friend hate you so much she got you that for your birthday?'
I will have to then correct them by saying that it is actually one of the best presents I have ever got (I include my swing set which I got at age six in this.)

LOKI CHARMS!!!!

 

I now am trying to decide if I should start wearing it right away, or keep it up for Thor: The Dark World?

I also got a book on Zelda Fitzgerald. I'm so eager to read, but I'm not even half way through The Cuckoo's Calling.
College is beginning to loom, I'll be back in no time and I haven't even made a dent in my reading pile. :(

I am a Fangirl, hear me roar

What is this new thing now of having to back up your claim of being a fangirl? Apparently you can’t just self-describe yourself as one anymore, you know have to sit a thorough examination on your chosen subject.
Call yourself a Sherlock fangirl? Name all of Conan Doyle’s Holmes stories.
Call yourself a Batman fangirl? Give an account of all the characters, their alias, who they are related too.
Call yourself a Harry Potter fangirl? What was Dumbledore’s wand made of BEFORE he won the Elder Wand? (I kid, that’s a trick question. J.K.R has never said.’)

Some dick on a forum that shall rename nameless, simply because I fancy calling it ‘the-board-that-shall-not-be-named,’ called me out for saying I was a ‘fangirl.’
‘What’s your fandoms?’ he insisted. When I commented elsewhere about a certain demi-god of mischief he wrote something akin to ‘I bet you only like the Avengers because of the “omg hes sooooooo sexy” men! Have you even read an Avengers comic?’
I didn’t reply. I simply simmered with rage.
I will reply here instead: Yes, I have read an Avengers comic, one Avengers comic to be exact. And in my personal opinion, it sucked! And it sucked for the sole reason that I don’t like comic books!
Like in a relationship, you change. Your partner changes. And sooner or later you may drift apart. That for me is akin to comic books. They change, move in directions you wished the character or the story didn’t go. And I’d simply rather dedicate my time to a story arc in a novel than in a comic because a novel is what it is. It doesn’t change.

On my list of things I love more than breathing are films. Action films. Romance films. Fantasy films. Comedy films. I LOVE films!
So yes, my introduction to Loki was in Thor. (Aside from the Norse Myths I read as a child) But apparently that doesn’t make me a Loki fan at all, because I’m a female, and therefore unable to appreciate him for anything other than Tom Hiddleston’s looks. I’m female, and therefore incapable of enjoying action and seeing stuff blown up on screen. I’m female, and therefore should be silenced when I talk about my excitement at all the ComicCon news.
I need to show some credentials in order to do all that. I need to name all the X-men and their relationships to each other in order to justify my enthusiasm for Days of Future Past.
Here are my credentials. *gives the finger*
I’ll be fangirl to the day I die! I don’t need you to confirm or discredit that fact for me!  

And on that note: bring on Wednesday and The Wolverine. Origins was terrible. I hope this is an improvement.

The 5 Books That Made Me

I've seen these around the 'net for a while. I never really bothered to think about my five, but I thought 'ah sure, what the hell!'

Ann and Barry

 

Oh, I remember the day. The sun was shining and I was no more than five or six. I noticed my mam standing at the front gate, as she did occasionally, puffing on a smoke, awaiting my return home from school. I picked up speed and raced along, waving frantically my new Ann and Barry book.
‘I read more than anybody else in the class,’ I panted, ‘so teacher put me on a higher book.’

I was thrilled. My mother, proud. My love of reading had already begun.

30 years from non-existance

Do you think, at 31, I can still get away with calling myself late-to-very-late twenties? I tried it for my 30th year on this green globe, but no one was willing to agree. (Feckers! My family don't have much of an imagination.)

My 31st birthday is fast approaching and I'm pleased to say I'm taking it a lot more stoically than I did my 30th. I suppose once I got over the hump that was 30, 31 is a lot less frightening. But I say that on a Saturday, come Sunday night I'll be trying to make that deal with God that Joey in Friends tried to make.

Cuckoo's and Christies

Still I've yet to get my hands on a copy of The Cuckoo's Calling. To be fair, Eason's and Chapters have them in stock. But I've yet to get into town at a time when Eason's is open. (I'm opting to buy it in Eason's as I'll earn myself some nifty points with my loyalty card. And since I used to work there, well, I feel a sense of loyalty to the place.) Besides, I'm trying to plough ahead with my own writing, to get sucked into a book right now will take up most of my time. And while I don't mind that, I'm just not all that eager for it just yet as I'm at an exciting part in my story. (Escape and kidnap and rescue. Oh my!)
Anyway, this post is more an edit post than a little randomly talking crap post. First off, I thought The Cuckoo's Calling was set in Edinburgh. I've found out it's actually set in London. I'm slightly disappointed in this. And by slightly I mean very.
And secondly, err...duh!!! I'm an idiot. There was me talking about how I not that much of a fan of crime fiction. If I had of only looked left I would have seen the shelf I have dedicated solely to the marvellous Agatha Christie.
To make myself clearer I should have said I am not that much of a fan of modern crime fiction. Modern crime is all too real. If I wanted to read about modern crime, I'd pick up a newspaper, or simply ask the family what's going on in the neighbourhood. I don't so I won't!
Agatha Christie may be crime, but the past, particularly an English past, is rose-tinted and it's easier to get sucked into, thus enjoy more, the fiction of a Christie whodunit, like one big game of Cluedo. At least that's the way it is for me.

The Dopple Ganger Chronicles: The First Escape

The concept of the illustra-novella is new to me. In fact, before The First Escape, I had never actually heard of them.
Why? I hear myself asking. They are brilliant! Half novel, half graphic novel. It's the best of both worlds. Add a fun story with great characters and you have yourself my new favourite thing.
"Hotter than Potter" perhaps not, the series' don't really compare as The Dopple Ganger Chronicles are awesome in their own particular way. They actually put me more in mind with Ronald Dahl than J.K Rowling.

Moondial

 

Staying with an aunt after her mother is involved in an accident, Minty spends her time exploring Belton House and its grounds. Coming across a moondial, Minty is transported back in time and meets Tom. Inexplicitly they also are transported further back in time and come across the sad and mysterious Sarah. Labeled a ‘devil’s child’ by the other child, Sarah is only ever seen at night, heavily hooded. Both Minty and Tom decide to find out Sarah's secret and save her.

There are certain shows that aired during my childhood that I loved; Are You Afraid of the Dark, Sabrina etc but none came close to the affection I held for Moondial.
Perhaps because I saw it at a much younger age, or maybe because I read the book that accompanied the TV show not long after I viewed it. I still remember the thrill of finding the book on the school library shelf. (I never knew it was a book: the thought never actually crossed my mind.)
I’m nostalgic. I always have been. I have always gravitated to the past, but before it had always been someone else’s past. A Viking past. A Roman past. (Suffice to say I was the history geek in my class.) But lately I find I’m gravitating to my own past, so coming across a used copy of Moondial on amazon meant I ignored my aversion to amazon and purchased it. Transporting myself back, (kinda like Minty J) to childhood, it was like getting lost in the pages and going on the adventure with Minty and Tom all over again.

The TV show of Moondial is ace. Looking back at it now I still get that warm fuzzy feeling I had as a child. The ‘adventure can and does happen’ feeling. You unfortunately lose that as you get older. And while you do have adventures when you’re older, they're never what you hoped they would be. Life gets in the way of those adventures, and instead it presents you with its own ideas of ‘adventure’ - which are always anticlimactic because there is much less magic involved.

Botanic Gardens

One of my favourite places here in Dublin is the Botanic Gardens in Glasnevin. I particularly love it on a warm sunny day. It's close to where we live so my friend and I decided to make good use the sunshine, and pay the Gardens a visit.

Last time we were there we chased some squirrels (not literally.) This time we followed a crane around the lily pond.

Oh! That Wily Rowling

So J.K Rowling has pulled a Barty Crouch Jr. on us all by going incognito as a crime fiction writer. Got to love that woman! Got to hate those douchebags who are currently savaging the rave reviews Robert Galbraith got for The Cuckoo's Calling!
Three things in life are guaranteed: Death. Taxes. And haters gonna hate.

I'm not going to pretend that I read and loved the book, as I saw one acquaintance do. (Siriusly, she's a right ol' Lockhart if ever there was one!) because the truth is that I'm not that much of a crime fiction fan. I only read those that come highly recommended by close friends. It's the Classics, Young Adult and History sections that I hoover around in libraries and bookshops.
But now The Cuckoo's Calling is calling. AND I MUST BUY. It's J.K Rowling AND Edinburgh.

I haven't blabbed on about Edinburgh in this blog. Yet. No doubt I will. But I adore that city above all else. All the places I've been hold some sort of happy/fond memories for me, even Lourdes *shudder* but Edinburgh is the one place I could see myself living, if ever I were to decide to leave Dublin.

Unfortunately, I can't get to a bookshop until tomorrow. And even then I doubt they'll have what I'm looking for. I'd well imagine the few copies Eason's stock would have been whipped off the shelves yesterday when the news broke. But hopefully by the weekend I'll manage to get a copy somewhere :)

P.S I do hope the copy I do manage to get has this cover

Newbridge Park

In a follow-up from yesterday's post: I did both. I managed to get some words down. And we had a little picnic in Newbridge Park. No frolicking though. Shame. (But then again, I always feel that true frolicking can only be achieved when wearing some sort of flowing white dress. Not jeans, a t-shirt and an old manky pair of runners.)

Jack, not looking all that entertained picking daisies for a daisy-chain.

Sunshine and Creativity

It's been a case of writers block today and yesterday. I barely got 500 words down yesterday. Today I am simply staring at the blank screen, willing myself to write something, anything, just bust that wall down!
I know my plot. I know what happened, and what's going to happen. It's just getting from what has been (A) to what will be (B) that's the problem.
Truthfully, it's the sun's fault. My window is opened, pushed wide in order for the smallest of breezes to come in. Everything outside looks appealing. Inside means hot, clammy work. Outside means picnicking beneath large oak trees. I know which I prefer. And I also know which I can't have :(
(But that said, perhaps I'll write non-linear - just get something down, then frolic in the dying evening sun? Frolicking in this heat is stroke encouraging.)

Tedious Tidbits

I'm currently having fun filling in passport forms. That's sarcasm, only Ned Flanders could have fun filling in tedious forms. But it expired sometime last year, so I really need to get it renewed soon.
It seems like more reading than anything else. Do's and Don'ts. I was never one for reading instructions. Not until it all goes terrible wrong. That's prime time to go reading instructions!
(At least I've got some Paramore on the docking system, dulls the monotony.)
I'm hesitant to send my previous passport back, I know you have too, but still. I like seeing the stamps in it. I've Canadian, USA and Turkey. Not that many, but still considering they are probably the only places I'll be visiting (where I needed a stamp or visa) for some years to come, I'll be sad to lose them out of my passport. The new one will be sad and empty.
The bright-side is saying goodbye to that picture. God knows, I'm not photogenic as it is, but that's some other shit altogether! It's weird to see myself still with braces and glasses. Sometimes I forget I had them. Or perhaps I'm just repressing those memories.

edit: I just realised, they may send back the now expired passport. I hope so. And I think I've said passport enough for one post so I will say no more about it. passport.

Beautiful Creatures (2013)



Finally, I've been able to watch this film. Despite it being released on the 17th of June, I was unable to find it anywhere. I was really surprised, I've never had difficultly finding a new release DVD before. It just re-awoke my grief for the loss of HMV.

Eventually though, I found it. The bottom row, on a single shelf  that could only hold three DVD's, in Golden Disc's. This did not endear me to believe that this will be an enjoyable film. In my experience, the harder the film is to find, the more likely it is that it wasn't worth the search. But I enjoyed the book, and the cinematography in the trailers did make me think it was worth the effort.

I'm glad to say I was right. It was worth it. I especially loved the end. I won't give anything away for those who've not yet seen it, but it veers from the book, and while I think hard-core fans will be annoyed by that, I couldn't help but admire the attempt to add some intrigue. I liked that the writer/director twisted it for those of us who have read the book, and gave us that final 'oh no, this isn't going to end well. It's got to end well. Please, end well' heart skipping a beat moment.

I loved the two leads, Lena was less whiny. Ethan less high and mighty. Ripley, more believable as a siren than she is in the books. In the books she was a caricature of the 'slutty blonde.' (It's a label I am loathe to give, but that's the only way I can describe her.)

The only thing I had issue with is the Genevieve/Ethan flashback scene. Don't get me wrong, it works well and is in keeping with the story, but I had loved their story in the book so that was a *gasp* 'what are they doing this for?' moment.

The Internship

 



Urgh! I didn't have high hopes for this film, but then again I didn't expect it to be so dire either. Woeful, just painfully woeful.
I saw it with my nephew, not my friend who wanted to see it. When I told her it was dreadful she said 'not another Wedding Crashers then?' It is, most certainly, NOT another Wedding Crashers. Wedding Crashers had, a least, a few funny moments that weren't shown in the trailer.
In fact when I asked for two tickets, the cashier corrected my pronunciation. I had pronounced it like someone was being interned in Guantanamo Bay.
By the end of the film, I wanted to confront the cashier, I was right, she was wrong. That pronunciation was fitting: someone should have been interned in Guantanamo Bay for this crap.

Dilemma emma.

I think I need to join a writers group or something. I don't know if my protagonist is likable enough, or at all. I would ask my friends to read over it, give me feedback on her, but they either don't care or are too busy.
By design she is sarcastic and has anger issues, but female protagonist are hard when you are writing for a female audience, there has to be certain attributes that the audience has to identify with. And there is a fine line between likable and dislikeable. The female literary characters that are likable tend not to be bitchy in nature. Hell, she is my character and even I am frustrated with how she lashes out first, thinks things out later. But I love her too because I understand her reasons.
Before it was good, before I was part of a creative writing class. It was brilliant and so supportive. (In fact I doubt I would have finished my first novel if not for the encouragement I received there. I had never finished a story before it and always believed I didn't have it in me to do so.) But I had to leave that when I started college. Now I am at a loss to see an outside perspective on my work.
I think I just have to keep reminding myself - I'm writing this for me. For fun. I'm writing this for me. For fun. Let my character have free reign of the page. Let her voice come through, whether it be shouting or whispering.

New Moon: The Graphic Novel Vol. 1



Now, the story of how I came to be the owner of New Moon: The Graphic Novel Vol. 1 was a little less eventful. I actually purchased that. (Oh Lord! What have I become?)

I will be honest, I purchased this solely for the book cover. I actually adore it. It holds some sort of charm for me, I don’t exactly know why. (Perhaps it was because Jacob was the only character that I found I could tolerate within the whole series – until Aro came prancing along, that is. Actually no, strike that. That’s not the reason.)
I was a lot more disappointed in this that I was in the first book. Perhaps I had expectations for this and had none for the first one? Perhaps it just wasn’t up to the first ones standard?
I’m going with the latter. It was too short. Relied too much on Bella’s narration and not the images (if I wanted Bella’s narration I would read, and be bored by, New Moon again.) I wanted graphics to tell the tale in a visual style, that’s why I purchased it. I also hoped for a bit of Volturi. Instead what we get is the exact same image of them as was in the first book. That’s just plain lazy.

Which, in honesty, is what I would sum this book up as, lazy and a milking of the fanbase.
Fans of Twilight are hard-core. (I should know, I’ve been verbally attacked by a few in my time. Somehow or another they don’t welcome my open criticism of the awfulness of the films, or my extreme dislike of the hypocrisy of the “heroes.”) They deserve better than substandard - all true fans of fandoms do. This could have been EASILY one book. According to amazon Vol. 2 has even less pages than Vol. 1. And no doubt that as soon as both have been released a “collector’s edition” will follow suit, and that will offer a minor incentive that true fans will want to purchase, despite having both already.

And that is why I’m glad my main fandom is Harry Potter. For our visual desires we get the awesome Pottermore. And it’s free. All free. Just like Dobby. :D

Twilight: The Graphic Novel Vol. 1

 

Picture it, it’s a crappy day. The rain fell heavily; the street is like a river due to so many puddles. Your jeans are slipping down your hips because you 1) forgot to wear a belt and 2) the rainwater has seeped up your legs as far as the knee and the added weight doesn’t help.
You missed the bus by a few seconds. In fact you got right to the door just as the busman closed them. You tap light, smiling, hoping he’ll take pity on you and will open the doors and allow you admission in to the dryness. But the shitebag sees you and turns his head, pretending you’re not there and awaits a gap in the traffic in order to pull out.
You’re seething. And feel like banging on the glass, giving him the finger and calling him a terrible name. But you refrain from it all, telling yourself that that wasn’t how you were raised.
You simply await the next bus. First in line.
It comes. Ten minutes late. Everybody crams the line, pushing, shoving you, until you realise that you’re now near the end of the line. Screw being nice! I was here first! ‘They are not skipping me,’ you fume.

Exam Worry

I get my exam results today. Yikes! As the Americans would say.
I know it's been less than a month since my final exam, but it feels much longer. Perhaps that's because I've been trying to block out the memories? I don't do well in exams. Stress. Time restraint. Hand formed into some misshapen type of claw. No, sir, exams and I do not mix.
Blocking it out is bogey for two reasons: a) you become complacent. When you block stuff out you forget the nightmare that it was, so you're lulled into the 'actually, come to think of it, I over reacted at the time. It wasn't that bad,' mind-frame. In reality it was that bad. Tears where stinging your eyes as you frantically turned the pages, checking front and back while your mind screams at you, 'there are only eight questions. And nothing about what you studied. There must be more. THERE MUST BE MORE!!! (Your mind sounding more and more like the girl in the Exorcist as you go.)
Then afterwards you ease yourself into the 'pfft! It was grand' area of thinking because you couldn't possibly continue to remember how bad it exactly was, because you'd never sleep again.
and b) admitting it to everyone. Oh, the embarrassment. The sheer embarrassment when you have to admit to everyone 'yeah, didn't do as good as I hoped.' You get the 'ha! Delighted! Little miss know-it-fecking-all doesn't know it all at all' smug look.

This is now my predicament. I don't want these results back! I did these past few days because I had myself convinced I did fine. The 'I did alright. Didn't do great, but definitely scraped a pass,' denial. My problem is I didn't do fine. At least, not on two of the six. I failed them. Like proper *chokes back tears* 'don't cry, don't cry, don't cry,' chanting to myself on the bus ride home.
I guess I'll just have to prep myself for the results. Some chocolate and a cold can of coke.

Random tandem

Random Item #1
I've decided to Bloom after all. The general consensus from the people I discussed it with was 'sure, you're only sending it in. Not signing anything. No harm in trying so.' I concur. You don't get anywhere in life if you don't try, I guess.

Random Item #2
I shall be seeing Man of Steel in a few hours. Can. Not. Wait.
I will most likely give a quick review in the next day or two.

Random Item #3
What is that above? Like seventy words? I wrote about seventy words, and it took me about ten minutes to do so. My laptop is not only freezing, but it's deleting words randomly. Like it has a mind of its own, a mind that's going crazy. A famous-too-young-and-now-going-crazy kind of crazy.
That's why I decided that I have to get a new one. When college begins again I will need one. One that doesn't take forever, one that doesn't have the blue screen of death every hour, one that I don't get an overwhelming urge to throw out the window.
Well I got one. Woohoo! It's small because I could only afford a cheap one that was on sale, plus I didn't fancy carrying in a big jalopy into college.
It's nice. Not fantastic. But it'll do the trick i.e. help me keep my sanity and rage attacks down.

Random Item #4
I'm trying to figure out how magic will work in my 'world.' 12,000 words in and I'm only now realising I never thought this part out yet. D'oh!
It's gonna be tricky! A lot of Post-its are gonna get used. Hair pulling will occur. Swear words shall be groaned. God, I love creativity! :D

To bloom or not to bloom, that is the question.

Like Martin Luther King, I have a dream. But mine is a lot more selfish than his was. I have spent so much of my life in libraries and bookshops that my little dream is one day seeing my book printed and bound and taking up space on a shelf next to other books.
It was a dream that seemed unattainable before I actually wrote the damn book. But now it's done, I feel I'm on, at most, the first rung of the ladder.
Now comes the hard part, getting someone else to believe in your little tale as much as you do. I've gotten some rejections, and while they ain't been pretty I expected it and am hardening myself to the idea that I am, no doubt, going to get more but I just have to keep trying.
And that's what I was doing, scoping about and seeing who is out there that I have yet to annoy with my "If immortality was a fundamental part of your being, how far would you go to achieve it?" tag line.
That is when I came across this on the writers.ie website.

http://www.bloomsbury.com/uk/bloomsbury-spark/

It sounds great. It sounds awesome. It sounds *insert another positive adjective here*
But, see, that's my life. Most everything that every sounded great and awesome turned out to be disasters. (I get screwed over. A lot. I must have one of those faces. I'm beginning to deal with it.) I am weary of anything and everything that sounds remotely like a dream come true, (and believe me, being published by the publishers than gave us Harry Potter would be a dream come true for me.)
So now I have a conundrum, should I submit my novel? It does fit all the criteria. Or should I keep going the route I am going with submitting to agents and getting knocked back?
But then again, aren't I being very pretentious, worrying if I should submit when the real question is "would they even publish me?"
That's the thing with authors, we are a little self revolving. It comes from living in our own heads so much. That's our real world. Outside that, that's the fantasy.

Change of tag

I said in my opening post that I will probably use this blog to review books and films, and I intend to do so. But by tagging posts 'review' I feel I am being a little misleading. I am well aware that I couldn't review something if my life depended on it.
Therefore I have decided to rename the tag 'review: to use a term loosely' because, lets face it, it is my own brand of reviewing which means it's not going to be brilliant, insightful or even explatives free. They are 'eh' reviews. They are 'don't expect genius' reviews.

The Tree of Seasons

I wanted to like this, I really did. Not just because I was a boy zone fan in my teens, but because its a great concept (the art work is also very pretty) I'm a woodsy girl so the prospect of a story in which the underlying theme is to cherish trees and nature really appealed to me.

I'm aware that I am perhaps not in the correct age bracket for this book, but most reviews I have read said that it was enjoyable for adults just as much as children.

Unfortunately, the writing doesn't live up to the standards of other books that have cross-over appeal. It's very simplistic writing and because of that I found it difficult to read because I found it very boring. 

Things aren't developed. The characters could have been fleshed out more. And the danger never felt all too real, especially for the main mortal protagonists - whenever things got a little bit hard, one of the magical characters just happened to have a spell for the job. Things were just too easily solved.

I'd give it two stars. And one of those is only because I love Stephen 'Key To My Heart' Gately.

They keep telling me to 'get a colour'. I tell them that white is a colour!

We've being enjoying the best weather we've had all year here in green old Ireland. And it's probably going to be the best weather we will have all year too, if past summers are anything to go by.
It doesn't bode all to well with little old vampire me, I hate the sun.
Don't get me wrong, when you wake up in the morning and the sun is shining through the window, rather than rain lashing against it, it does make crawling out from under the covers that little bit easier. A person can begin the day in a hopeful, happy mood. But I do long for the shade.
I don't see the point my entire family seem to have, the 'allow me to burn the hell out of my face and upper body and risk skin cancer just to have a nice tan that will last about a month' point. You shall be a corpse, but a corpse with a nice colour. Where is the logic in that?

Woman in Black (1989)

 

God bless YouTube, from the bottom of my cold dead heart. If it wasn’t for YouTube I wouldn’t be able to re-watch these great old shows. Not now HMV is gone anyway. There was a time when I could stumble across something I hadn’t seen in years and pick it up for four euro, but alas! those days are gone *sniff* (and I now understand Bella’s near catatonic state in New Moon after Edward leaves her. Love of her life he may be, but can he offer her a huge selection of movies for a relatively cheap price? I think not! My grief out-weights hers.)

Centered around Arthur Kidd, a young solicitor sent to the eerie Eel Marsh House to gather together the legal papers from the recently deceased client, Mrs. Drablow.
The sinister presence of the mysterious Woman in Black is soon seen and felt by Arthur.

This 1989 version of The Woman in Black is something I have been looking for on DVD for ages. I was delighted when I found the full movie on YouTube.
Like most things from the 80’s - namely the hairstyles and the fashion - it has potential to scare but when you come from seeing the new Daniel Radcliffe version you are ultimately let down.
I know purists will scoff and dismiss me, but whatever! The 2012 version was MUCH scarier, and held such little golden moments of film-making it made you an instant fan of Joe Wright’s directing abilities.
Of course the book out-does them all. But this adaption is a good one because it is, I can’t say ‘throw-back’ since it was made in the 80’s but it is in the style of old story telling. A manner of less is more. It doesn’t go in for cheap shocks, it simply relies on the eerie atmosphere of Eel Marsh house, of the marshland and it’s ‘frets’ (the sea breezes) to get across its frights.

I wish more shows were like this. I wish more ghost stories were like this. I think Mark Gatiss should bring back the ‘Ghost Story for Christmas’ tradition. If I can’t do it, I think he is the man to ;)

If you want to be a writer, then write

I swear, I don't do anything normal. I just have to go rushing ahead, as always. Knowing it never works out. But yet, I still go and do it. *sigh*

I have this story, you see. It has a girl. A guy. And another girl. It has fairies. A castle. And it has magic.
So has a million billion zillion other people, I don't hear you say. That is true. It's the more intricate plot points and the twist and turns that make the story only like one in a million, rather than one in a million billion quaddillion (yes, I know, I'm making stuff up now. I'm an aspiring writer, that's kinda what we do.)
Anyway, I'm getting off point, I do that...hey look, that dog has a puffy tail...*chases it for an hour*
Anyway, as I was saying. I don't do anything I tell myself I will do.
This story is part of a planned trilogy (how pretentious does that sound!) and instead on, you know, actually writing the first book, I go and write the final scene of the final book.
The final scene of the final book. And I don't even have a title yet for the first one.
I exasperate myself sometimes!

Dust bunnies of death

I think I have a monster in my bedroom. One that vomits dust. There is no other explanation.

I spent the good part of four hours, count them! FOUR HOURS just tidying my room yesterday. Not rearranging furniture. Not redecorating. Just dusting. (And I only have the box-room! That was dusted as it was rearranged a few months ago!)
I think I now have what the miners call 'Black Lung' (I'm not sure if that's a true complaint, I saw it in Zoolander.)
It was more than the usual putting all the books back onto the shelves, or the putting clothes away into actual drawers, and not, you know, in the usual place A.K.A in the corner in a pile.

It was bed-pulling-up, shoulder-injuring, good hard honest work.
I only say because I now think that since I rumbled this monster - we shall call him Ned. Ned the Dust Puker - he is out to get me. If I don't blog in the coming days, it is because he has dragged me to his Dusty Palace at the bottom of the lint pile to be his queen.

The Lady In White

Now that I find myself with some time to kill, I find myself re-watching some old gems that I loved as a kid. But to label the Lady in White as a rewatch would be a lie as I never did get to see the end, or even the middle.
This aired one Christmas Eve when I was small. And despite my loud protests I was sent to bed to await sleep and Santa’s visit. (Granted, the excitement of Santy did outweigh my disappointment over not being able to watch the whole film.) I was sent to bed with a glass of milk and a desire to finish the story of the lady in white in my head.
This is the thing with imagination. Your own is always better!

Beautiful Creatures

Beautiful Creatures sees the budding romance between small-town boy Ethan Wate and the new and mysterious girl, Lena Duchannes.
As the niece of notorious ‘shut-in’ resident, Macon Ravenwood, Lena is instantly branded with the oddball iron by all but Ethan, who simply knows her as the girl of his dreams. Literally.
A ‘caster,’ Lena counts down to her sixteenth birthday when, in accordance to her family tradition, she will be claimed for either the ‘dark’ or the ‘light.’ And the story deals with the strong connection between Ethan and Lena as they both strive for a loophole in the rules that will allow Lena her own choice.

Don’t you just love when the setting of a novel becomes a character in its own right? If you answered ‘yes’ then I agree. Gatlin is described in such detail that you dream about the place! Or I did, at least.
The continuing referencing to ‘To Kill A Mockingbird’ fitted perfectly as I couldn’t help but think Gatlin was a lot like ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’ in the sense that what you see on the surface of Gatlin is not what lies at its heart. Just as in ‘To Kill a Mockingbird,’ the perspective of a young girl’s (Scout) narration doesn’t really see the true essence of the events around her. She sees it all through innocent eyes.
And we see Gatlin through the naive eyes of Ethan.

Obligatory Welcome Post

It has been little over a week since I finished up my final exam. That is it, first year of college officially over. (Or so I hope, if I did as bad as I think I did I may be repeating one or two exams. Fingers crossed I am just overreacting. I doubt I am, but my fingers, toes and eyes will remain crossed anyway.)

For summer I have decided to start up a blog. I know my others have fallen by the wayside in the past, and I assume the same will happen to this one once September and second year roll around. I hope not. I have good intentions. But that said, I always have good intentions.

I was contemplating whether or not just to resume blogging with my other account, but in the end I decided to start afresh. I became far too negative on it, plus it was a horrible name. (That, I guess, is what happens when you join LiveJournal on a whim and type in the first thing that springs to mind.)
I know I lead the world's most boring life, nothing exciting ever happens, so this blog will be more centered around reviews and stuff. Then if anything interesting does happen, I will blog about that, but I wouldn't hold my breath if I were you. I, like Harry Potter, find summer an absolute drag. I plan to do nothing but read, watch films, and hit my word quota for the day.

My first novel is out there, in the ether, awaiting some kind fairy (or literary agent as they are more commonly referred to) to see the potential I see. Until that miracle happens (IT WILL HAPPEN. I'm a determined bunny when I want to be!) I will dedicate my time to my second novel.
So far it has 10,000 words, but no title. I really need to give it one!