Have A Happy, Horsey Halloween

You can read more about the stupendous, seasonal painting of this very sweet, pretty, and obviously supernaturally patient pony appropriately called Raven over at the site of the person who actually did all the hard artwork rather than just, like yours truly, lazily pinching her cool photos because I simply cannot resist the opportunity to post a demon horse on this All Hallows' Eve:

https://www.facebook.com/notes/knot-just-rope/learn-more-about-knot-just-ropes-skeleton-horse/10152302769845760

Doesn't the sight of this skeleton horse make you want to throw a saddle on it, put a voluminous, black cape around your own shoulders, mount up and go galloping though a dark and stormy night whilst laughing maniacally?

And imagine if some little kid happened to look out the window...

Note To Self: Must Read This

Let me just make one thing clear before I continue - The Weirdstone of Brisingamen is MY special book. I found it, all by myself, without reviews or recommendations, in a school library during one of my lunchtime wanders there when I was about ten years old, years after the book was first published. In fact, the book itself might have mysteriously drawn me to its shelf and compelled me to pick it up and take it home. I know the word 'Brisingamen' certainly attracted me, for being something of a junior mythology buff, I recognised the name of the goddess Freya's necklace and was intrigued. And who can resist a word like 'weirdstone'?

Anyway, just so you know that no matter what kind of a connection you might think you have formed with the book, your "relationship" with TWOB is but a trifling, superficial thing compared with MY deep and meaningful bond with it. So there , now you know. The Weirdstone of Brisingamen is MY special book. Ditto with The Moon of Gomrath.

The reason I've brought this up is because thanks to a review over at  Book View Café, I was reminded this morning that I need to read Boneland by Alan Garner to see how it all ends for Colin and Susan. When Boneland first came out, I decided to reread TWOB and TMOG and then clear a bit of dedicated reading time for what I was told would be a difficult  but worthwhile job. Alas, stuff happened, I got sidetracked, blah, blah, etc. But now, thanks to BVC, I'm on it again.

I mean, with a review like this from Ursula LeGuin, how can I not? The circle must be completed. The puzzle must be at least attempted. And how lucky are we that the author has seen fit to bring closure to the saga?

I just hope I understand it. :)

And the Lucky Winner is...





So. The Halloween draw for a free copy of Return of the Dead Men (and Women) Walking anthology full of stories about undead folk of all shapes and sizes. The road to this draw was not an easy one, I can tell you, and there were dramas a' plenty. Extravagant plans for a glittering gala event at my neighbourhood centre for struggling scribes with some local literary luminary desperate for exposure drawing the winning number fell apart when our usual last Wednesday of the month meeting was replaced by a non-Halloween, Friday night trivia contest. Since I seem to have misplaced my tiara, perhaps this was for the best.

Fortunately, a busy friend who is not me kindly agreed to pop around this evening and do the honours for a quick cup of tea and a chocolate biscuit or two.

Unfortunately, with that settled, I realised I'd forgotten to buy a witch's hat or pumpkin. No worries, I thought, I'll get one at the cheapo place next to the supermarket when I go shopping. So, after putting in a few hours of flat out writing here at home (yay!) I sauntered into town, but alas, I was so diverted by winning $13.90 on my lottery ticket and procuring a whopping great pineapple for the low price of $3.95 that I forgot my original mission. My mind at the moment, as I may have mentioned a few times previously, is not exactly a steel trap. The superhuman ability to improvise under great duress, however, is still mine to wield, so a woven hat covered in giant seashells became an official Sea Witch's Hat. My friend turned up, tutted at the lack of a suitably black and conical piece of head attire or pumpkin for the draw, took her cup of tea and chocolate biscuits up front, politely declined to be photographed, then adequately performed her task. Five slips went into that Sea Witch's Hat on this balmy Halloween evening, but only one came out again.

I won't even go into how my computer then stuffed me around and it looked as if I might not be able to post this notice.

And so without further ado, but lots of trumpet blowing to celebrate the event (a freebie!!!!), the lucky winner is:

Congratulations, Mary!!! If you send me your mailing address, I'll forward the information on to the people at Bards and Sages Publishing, and they'll make sure you get your prize. Enjoy.

And a big thank you to everyone who participated. My blog stats show that oodles of people clicked the pumpkin picture and checked out the competition, but it seems that only the few, the fabulous five, were brave enough to commit. I wish I had more copies to give away so you could each get one. Thank you again.

Now I'm off to put on my pyjamas and watch a suitably scary Halloween movie.

Gitte's Halloween Giveaway

With only three weeks to go until restless spirits unsettled by All Hallow's Eve walk amongst us for a while, it's time to get my very first giveaway competition up and shuffling. As posted last week, the good folk at Bards and Sages Publishing have offered to send a print copy of Return of the Dead Men (and Women) Walking anthology to the winners of any competitions that we contributors might get going, so I thought I'd give it a shot. A freebie is a freebie, not to be sneezed at but a thing to be seized with joy! I've made it as easy to participate as possible, and the drawing of the winner as random as possible. I may live to regret this, but what the heck. I'll muster up some Halloween bravado and forge on. So, with a long, teenage scream-queen squeal, here we go.

Step One:  Just leave a comment naming your favourite or most unfavourite, real or made up, living or undead, horror creature. One word will do it, although feel free to wax lyrical on why you like, or despise, your chosen subject. Please, keep it nice though, or you will be deleted. You don't have to come up with a little known subspecies of Mesopotamian werewolf or an obscure Aztec revenant who haunts the world for all eternity. A bog standard comment like 'I rooly trooly heart zombz' will do, even if many others have already written this. You can even be specific and name names if you prefer e.g Dracula. Don't sweat it, just participate, then cross your fingers.

Example of Stage One: My favourite undead creatures are politicians pink zombie ponies.

Step Two : Like a marine out on manoeuvres with his mates, "shout out" your number. To do this, you'll have to check the number of the person who left a comment before you. Like the marines, keep it sequential so the sarge-in-charge, a.k.a me, doesn't get confused. The first to leave a comment is one, the next person is number two and so on.

Example: My favourite undead creatures are politicians pink zombie ponies. Fourteen!

Step Two Point Five: if you're an anonymous commenter, you'll have to distinguish yourself from the other anonymous commenters by leaving a name of some sort, real or made up, or use a call sign like 'Rubber Ducky'or 'Sparkly Vampire'. Again, keep it nice or be forever vanished into cyberspace.

Step Three: There isn't a step three. You don't really have to worry about this stage of the operation. You've done your bit. Thank you, and good on you. Good luck too. No, stage three is for me. Depending on how many people sign up, I'll either buy a fancy raffle book full of tickets with printed numbers down at the super-cheap nic-nac shop next to the supermarket, or I'll just grab a nearby pen and scribble numbers on a couple of scraps of paper. Either way, the numbers will go into some sort of Halloweeny receptacle like a stylish plastic pumpkin or a witch's hat, and a ticket or scrap of paper will be pulled forth on that creepiest of nights, October 31, 2012, the one evening when you can't be entirely sure whether or not the raggedy people you see dragging their feet on the opposite side of the street are wearing costumes.

Anyway, the fanfare that goes with this special draw may be big, it may be small. Again, depending on how many people are eager to win a freebie copy of this fine tome which is so imminently suited to being a Halloween prize, I'll find someone who isn't me to draw the winning number - possibly a random stranger dressed up as a ghost that I happen to meet in the street on that spooky evening, or, less creepily, and less likely to end with me in goal, if the turnout is respectable, I'll see if I can find a volunteer at my local writers' centre to do the honours. I might even take a picture. And wear a tiara for the event.

I'll announce the winner on this blog on All Hallow's Eve. The winner can then use my contact email on this blog to send me their postal address, which I will forward to the people at Bards and Sages Publishing. They'll make sure you then get your free copy of  Return of the Dead Men (and Women) Walking anthology ASAP.

There, I think that about covers it. Easy and random. Give it go. You know you want to. Good luck.

Yulefright

Restaurants all over Australia, especially in solidly built regional hotels with big fireplaces and frosty mountains beyond their french windows, are busy this weekend with Christmas in July, a through and through foodie celebration devoid of any religious connotations whatsoever. It's all about stuffing oneself with those hot, rich, filling meals traditionally eaten with gusto on Xmas Day in the Northern Hemisphere but which practically make you gag when forced down in the heat of a December down under. It's a practical response to the ludicrousness of transferring traditions developed for a winter festival to the exact opposite season.

Anyway, I'll seize this topic-related opportunity to mention a film I've been meaning to recommend for a while, well, since Christmas 2011 to be precise - the 2010 Finnish movie Rare Exports: A Christmas Tale. It's the funniest, darkest, goriest, most bad taste and frightening yuletide tale I've ever seen that also manages to maintain a core of childhood innocence and seasonal sweetness. A movie like Bad Santa touches a few of those bases, but, let's face it, the scope of most Xmas movies is small and suburban. This film exists elsewhere. Its brooding atmosphere is heightened by featuring a geographically isolated people embedded in a stunning but pitiless environment that kills careless folk, and a society shaped by a palpable continuation of their pagan past well into the present. Their Christmas myths are most definitely not our jolly Xmasy traditions. Simply not getting gifts didn't cut it as fitting punishment for naughty children according to the tough, barbaric peoples of yore, and the ur-customs developed to keep young folk in line make you laugh as much in disbelief as in horror at the outrageous cruelty.

Also, you have to love a movie that casually features countless filthy and very sinister, naked old men with such abandon. As with most Nordic horror films, there's much blood and guts nicely framed so as to contrast with the snow. There are chainsaws, there are guns everywhere, there are borderline psychotic but lovable local characters, and there is much seriously questionable behaviour as well as a moving father-son relationship. What more could you want from a Christmas movie?

Now I'd better get a move on. I have to gussy up (put on something other than trackie dacks) and meet up with a few people, not for a Yulefest (at least, I hope not... ), but for a normal Sunday arvo lunch.

Starry-Eyed

Since Sundays at home are for reading fluff, I peeked at my star sign this morning. If you peruse these "predictions" often enough, you're bound to hit one that resonates with you at a certain point in time. I mean really, how hard can it be to come up with wondrously prescient pieces espousing 'life is tough' and 'but don't worry, it'll all get better soon, so please buy this publication and come back to read what I have to say next week'. Anyway, my star sign this week reads:

If life's been feeling like too much hard work for too little reward lately, you could opt for mattress therapy and pull the blankets over your head. Or, you could follow Buckminster Fuller's advice that things are never changed by fighting the existing reality, but by inventing a new model that makes the existing one obsolete.

The first part is true, and these days I'm often tempted to snuggle under my doona and wait for bothersome stuff to just sort itself out and for life to call me when it's safe to get up, but I'm guessing this feeling would at some point resonate with 95% of the human population (although I have no sources to validate my theory, having unscientifically plucked this number from the ether.)

However, my stars get full points for mentioning Bucky, one of my all-time favourite scientists and visionaries. Now there's someone who weathered down and out times - depression, unemployment, poverty - and rallied to achieve greatness. He was an architect, teacher, engineer, inventor, intellectual pioneer and all-round rational thinker. He was an environmentalist who understood what many people today still seem to be struggling with - the concept of finite resources eventually reining us in, so we really should try to act like adults and anticipate and control the process. He was a believer in integrated systems that worked with humans rather that against them and thus enhanced their existence instead of making them more miserable (the "brains" behind the present public transport system in Victoria definitely haven't read Bucky's work). He was a Big Thinker with a Big Soul.

So, my star sign advice for this week, for once, is sound enough. I'll ignore the astrology aspect of it, but go with Bucky's wisdom. A new life paradigm. Hmm, I'm on it.

Spring in my Step

After the rush and satisfaction of making a deadline, I'm full of beans and in the mood for finishing and sending stuff, so I looked over all my WIPs on the way to the Arvo Job today and discovered that a couple of my almost-there stories are a lot less rough around the edges than I remembered. My SF werewolf story, for example, only needs a couple of paragraphs in the first half to finish it. I’ve been editing it on and off over the past few months, and lost track of the fact that it's pretty much ready to go. I’ll send it out into the world to howl for its supper this weekend. Then I’ll tackle the harpy story, and try to get her off and flapping by the end of the month.

This means I’ll have a vamp story, a harpy story, a werewolf story, and a tale with dragons out doing the rounds, along with 4 SF stories and 2 other fantasy stories. Given that I used to only write dark, serious, dystopian SF, this is a strange situation to find myself in (though the last two do contain SFish elements i.e. spaceships and “robots”) Still, it's good to try new styles and subjects. It keeps the writing fresh and fun.

And on the subject of dragons, Happy Spring Festival. I’m particularly fond of the Year of the Black Water Dragon for two reasons. Firstly, I get to post a picture of a dragon. Secondly, it represents a certain liberation for me. You see, after a lifetime of snickering and bad jokes because I was born in the year of one of the less charismatic animals in the Chinese horoscope's 12-year cycle, a few years ago I discovered that the day of my emergence in the particular year of my birth actually makes me, you guessed it, a black water dragon, albeit one born in the year of the truly blah, aforementioned unmentioned animal. Yay! I mean, black water dragon sounds so much more impressive than the other critter (which I'm blotting from my mind)

Given that the best thing about superstitions and horoscopes is that you get to pick and choose which bits you like and want to believe, I'm going with this legendary classification rather than the mundane other one.

Happy Holidays!

Have a Horribly Happy All Hallow's Eve

From Cooper (a.k.a. Demon Cat)

and his spectral sidekick, Chopper Chook.

Xmas is coming

I'm not an overly Christmassy person, but if I had an obscene amount of cash at my disposal, I would definitely nip across to the US of A to catch 'A Klingon Christmas Carol'.

Scrooge has no honor, nor any courage. Can three ghosts help him to become the true warrior he ought to be in time to save Tiny Tim from a horrible fate?

Performed in the Original Klingon with English Supertitles, and narrative analysis from The Vulcan Institute of Cultural Anthropology.
The Dickens classic tale of ghosts and redemption adapted to reflect the Warrior Code of Honor and then translated into tlhIngan Hol (That's the Klingon Language).

To me, this falls in under:

Eccentricity has always abounded when and where strength of character has abounded; and the amount of eccentricity in a society has generally been proportional to the amount of genius, mental vigor, and moral courage it contained. That so few now dare to be eccentric marks the chief danger of the time. John Stuart Mill

I believe that as long as there is a Klingon theatre production showing somewhere in the world, there is still hope for humankind.

♪♫ So, have yourself ♫♫ a Klingon ♪♪♫♪ Christmas... ♫♪♫

Signs of Sunday: Religious Festivals (1)