tinhuviel: (Torquemada)

I haven’t done one of these in about 10,000 years, so let’s get this show on the road.



This is all true. photo 1264091_10153348891685721_288267917_o.jpg1. Full name: Tracy Angelina Evans
2. Nicknames: Tin, Tinhuviel, George, Darth Shriek
3. Birthplace: Asheville, North Carolina USA
4. Birthday: 10 September, 1967
5. Where Do You Live Now?: San Diego, California
6. Parent(s): Father Unit has passed.  Mother Unit is here in San Diego.
7. Sibling(s): ZERO
8. Looks: Better off invisible.
9. Favourite Animal(s): Anything non-human, except for millipedes and centipedes.  Like humans, they can go fuck themselves.
10. Favorite TV Show(s): Impractical Jokers, Better Call Saul



11. Favorite Kind(s) Of Music: Most everything but Country and Opera.
12. Favorite Movie(s): Sci-Fi, Unusual, Conceptual, Foreign
13. School: Some college, focusing on English and Veterinary Assistance
14. Future School: I’m too old for this question. The Chapel Perilous

15. Future Job: Testing new, effective sleep aids.
16. Boyfriend/Girlfriend: nah
17. Best Buds: I’m a bit of a hermit these days.
18. Favorite Candy: Milk Dud
19. Hobbies: Music, reading, writing
20. Things You Collect: Grudges, CDs, movies, moments in time.



21. Do You Have A Personal Phone Line: Yes
22. Favorite Body Part Of The Opposite Sex? The eyes and brain
23. Any Tattoos And Where Of What?: Red & Black Triskele on right hand, Green Shriekback logo on left hand, Mwanza Flat-headed Agama with green and blue hues instead of pinkish and blue.
24. Piercing(s) And Where?: not anymore
25. What Do You Sleep in?: clothing
26. Do you like Chain Letters: aw HELL NAW.
27. Best Advice: Reality is peripheral.
28. Favorite Quotes: Hope for the best, expect the worst. - Mel Brooks.
29. Non-sport Activity You Enjoy: sleep
30. Dream Car: A transporter



31. Favorite Thing To Do In Spring: Avoid the sun.
32. What’s Your Bedtime: Whenever I’m lucky.
33. Where Do You Shop: Wherever I can.
34. Coke or Pepsi: Cheerwine

35. Favorite Thing(s) To Wear?: Something loose that will allow me to blend into my surroundings.
36. Favorite Subject(s) In School: English and Creative Writing

37. Favorite Color(s): Green, Red, Black
38. Favorite People To Talk To Online: People with brains and a wicked sense of humour that has set them on the road to Hell.

39. Root-Beer or Dr. Pepper? Root beer

40. Do You Shave? I’m too old for that bullshit.




41. Favorite Vacation Spot(s): I don’t do vacations.  My favourite place to BE is England.
42. Favorite Family Member(s): Smidgen
43. Did You Eat Paint Chips When You Were a Kid? WHAT?
44. Favorite CD you own: Currently Without Real String or Fish by Shriekback
45. The ONE Person Who You Hate The Most: Going with an old standard here and saying Pat Robertson.
46. Favorite Food(s)?: Potatoes
47. Who Is The Hottest Guy or Girl In The World?: I have a very short list.
48. What Is Your Favorite Salad Dressing?: Bleu Cheese.
49. When You Die, Do You Wanna Be Buried or Burned Into Ashes? I don’t care, as long as I end up on Craggy Dome.
50. Do You Believe In Aliens?: Absolutely.








51. If You Had The Chance To Professionally Do Something, What would You Do? I’m already a Professional Misanthropist.
52. Things You Obsess Over: Various artists, ideas, philosophies, theories, general weirdness
53. Favorite Day of the Week: Don’t bloody care.
54. An Authority Figure You Hate: The Feudal Mistress still tops the list.
55. Favorite Disney Movie: Bambi
56. What Is Your Favorite Season? Winter
57. What Toppings Do You Like On Your pizza? Cheese, with extra cheese, and cheese on the side.
58. Do You Like Your School Food Itself (As In The District Food): I never ate it.
59. If You Could Live Anywhere, Where Would You Live? Avebury, Wiltshire, UK
60. Favorite Thing(s) To Do On Weekends: Sleep, if I can accomplish it.







61. Favorite Magazine(s): Don’t have one.
62. Favorite Flower(s): White rose

63. Favorite Number(s): 5

64. Favorite Ice Cream flavor(s): Ben & Jerry’s Wavy Gravy

65. What Kind of Guys/Girls Are You Attracted to?: Dangerously intelligent, beautiful, talented, and hilarious.

66. What’s Your Most Embarrassing Moment? I inadvertently introduced myself to someone as his wife.

67. If You Could Change One Thing About Yourself What Would It be? I would be fearless.

68. Do You Eat Breakfast First Then Brush Your Teeth or Brush first ten eat breakfast: breakfast first.

69. Favorite Time of Day: Whenever I get to sleep.

70. Can A Guy and Girl Be Just “Best Friends?”: Why not?



71. Do You Ask The Girl/Guy Out Or Do You Wait For Them To Come To You?: I don’t go there anymore.

72. Do You Mind Paying For Sex? I never would.

73. What’s The Most Important thing In Someone’s Personality: Sentience

74. Do you have a pager or cell phone? Cell

75. Favorite Sport: Flambodious Butt-walking

76. What Was the Best Gift You Ever Received? Love

77. How Long Did This Letter Take You To Finish?: Not very long.

78. What Did You Listen To While Completing It?: Electric Light Orchestra’s Alone in the Universe.

79. Are you or would you like to be married in the near future (next 5 years)? NEGATIVE

80. Don’t u just hate how psychics never win the lottery? I hate it more than I don’t win the lottery. I hate psychics, especially the ones who claim to talk to your dead relatives.  They’re grifters who should be drawn and quartered.  The End.

tinhuviel: (Shriekback Logo)

The band have posted an hour-long interview, answering fans' questions. Take a gander, and don't forget to pick up a copy of Without Real String or Fish.

tinhuviel: (RepLogo)


Shriekback
The World’s Second Best Pop Group with a Bald Singer
By Dave Segal (‘Creem’ June 1987)

“…Shriekback have opted to make a different kind of music – one which exalts human frailty and the harmonious mess of nature over the simplistic reductions of our crude computers.” – liner notes to Big Night Music. This thing called Shriekback is a strange beast. Trying to describe them gives me one hell of a headache. The new Shriekback music (it’s called Big Night Music but it could just as easily be called Small Morning Music) screws with rock critics’ rote jargon. If you wanted to be crass, you could label ‘em an intellectual funk band with gospel/cocktail lounge pretensions. Unlike most Anglo-Caucasians who funk around with black styles of music, Shriekback throw a skewered light on what, in pedestrian hands, can be a brain-numbing genre. You can attribute Shriekback’s uniqueness (no lie) to keyboardist/singer/lyricist Barry Andrews.

Andrews has full control of Shriekback now that Carl Marsh has departed with his Fairlights and drum computers for solo obscurity. Pared down to a trio (Dave Allen, he of the Zeus-like bass playing on Gang of Four’s first two LPs, and Martyn Barker on percussion toys), Shriekback have for the most part ditched Marsh’s vision of a “harsh disco reality” and gone for a rococo/eclectic sonic gumbo that’s as slippery to grasp as Eno’s skull in a bathtub. There’s a slickness to the Andrews/Gavin MacKillop production on Big Night Music, but don’t let that trouble yer noggin. It’s a good kind of slickness; Andrews has a Byrne-Enoesque aesthetic that enables him to craft exotic pop of excessive fussiness (‘Black Light Trap,’ ‘Running on the Rocks,’ ‘Sticky Jazz’) or of severe sparseness (everything else). You could call this The Soft Album without too much controversy.

Oddly, some of the songs sound better with the volume turned down. Perhaps because he can’t sing very well, Andrews often resorts to an intimate whispery delivery. Very nice and relaxing, this voice. And he’s a clever gump, too. It’s not by accident that wispy, gentle toons sit cheek by jowl with swollen brassy epics; and then out of nowhere will sprout a pretension-deflater like ‘Pretty Little Things,’ which sounds like Prince on helium and dexies. I tell ya, listening to Big Night Music is more fun than working in an abattoir on a humid day.

Andrews has the serene monkish demeanor of the Keith Carradine character in the Kung Fu TV show. Before Shriekback, he was in XTC from ’77 to ’79, and he also played with Robert Fripp’s League of Gentlemen in 1980. He’s a peace-lovin’, broad-minded intellectual dabbler wearing a black floppy hat and a long black coat. We had a civilized chat amid the delicately bubbling jacuzzi water inside a swanky Detroit hotel. Andrews proved to be more stimulating than a week’s worth of The Dick Cavett Show.

CREEM: Why did Carl Marsh leave Shriekback?
BARRY ANDREWS: He wanted to do solo things, really. Carl’s quite a self-contained sort of bloke I don’t think he ever found it easy working with other people. The band was becoming a two-headed beast that was tearing itself in half. Oil and Gold (released in ’85) suffered from that. A bit of schizophrenia between the Carl direction and my direction. I like things when they’re soft and vulnerable and maybe even a bit maudlin. I like a certain amount of crying into my Guinness.

Did Marsh’s departure cause a change in your sound?
Definitely, there was a sort of opening of the sluices. When Carl left, I felt like, firstly, I’ve got this huge canvas to work with on the whole record. It’s all gonna be my words, my tunes. So instead of it being this common denominator area we could inhabit with Carl, what the three of us could agree on was actually a bigger area because there were fewer things to filter out. I wanted to try doing something very simple and direct and emotional, like ‘The Cradle Song,’ Just trying out every option and seeing what’s possible. There’s a certain amount of experimentation that doesn’t work, but a whole lot that does. Normally we wouldn’t have even dared to try. Big Night Music is diverse. I don’t think anyone could complain about it being too homogenous. I think there is a coherence to it that we’ve never achieved on a record before, with the possible exception of Care (released in ’82)

Does everyone have creative input into the words and music?
I’m the sole lyricist. On the new album, Dave confined himself to bass playing, Martyn did a whole lot more than he’s ever done. He plays all the drums and does lots of percussion. So he’s actually responsible for quite a lot of the textures. I’m really responsible for the way the whole thing sounds and the structure of the songs. I can’t imagine collaborating with someone on a song. It would be like having somebody advise you while you’re having sex with somebody (laughs). There’s so much that just happens in your head. It’s quite a fragile process and it’s not something I could easily involve someone with.

Your lyrics have a stream of consciousness to them…
A stream of unconsciousness…(much laughter).

Sometimes it’s brilliant and at other times it leaves the listener baffled. Maybe they’re too oblique for universal understanding.
Maybe that’s a valid criticism. I don’t go in for any kind of broad political commentary.

You write more about personal things?
I don’t know if they’re even personal things, really. What I try to do is create an entity with sound that has not existed before. The songs are meant to be things you can walk into and walk around, that have their own kind of smell and atmosphere and texture. They’re not meant to be billboards or television programs. Or newspapers. The lyrics aren’t the point any more than the bass drum pattern’s the point. You might have a very good pair of kidneys but that’s not your whole story, is it?

If I asked you what ‘The Reptiles and I’ is about, could you tell me?
I can tell you what I was trying to do. It’s what it is for you definitely. That’s a nice fatuous answer, I suppose, and it’s what it means to me. And that’s about as far as it goes. I had this idea of using a lot of lists that I found in Webster’s Dictionary. A list of languages, elements, proverbs. I liked the idea of a bunch of verses that were lists. I was trying to create a nursery rhyme that would work in an adult way and would have that sort of darkness about it, that sinister kind of thing that the best nursery rhymes have. I’m really a little kid sitting at the foot of the great god Language. I’ve really got no command over it. I pretty much take what it gives me. I get excited by all the different ways people speak in the same way. I get excited about all the different cultures people can have, all the different ways of being in the world. It seems very rich and diverse and brilliant. And it inspires me.

Were you influenced by any writers?
I steal a lot. I’m a complete bastard for that. I’ll tell you the dead ones. I’ve ripped Shakespeare off something rotten. I’ve had my way with T.S. Eliot. Martin Luther King. The Bible. Certainly bits of the Koran. Complete verbal beachcomber.

At least you’re taking from great sources.
Oh yeah. That’s what they’re there for. To get crunched up and recycled. I don’t do it in any cynical way. It’s like doing a cover of a band’s song that you really think is a good song. It seems silly to wrack your brains when somebody else’s said it so well. I just rip it off. Shameless, really.

Have any current songwriters influenced you?
David Byrne’s approach – when I was a bit more uncertain about writing lyrics – he seemed to offer quite a good little cubbyhole to hide in, where you could get away without saying anything at all as long as it sounded all right. But on this LP, I got less and less satisfied with what you could do with that and more interested in what would happen if you pushed the thing up toward the light a little more. So things like ‘Cradle Song,’ ‘Reptiles,’ and ‘Gunning for the Buddha’ are like little narratives, stories, which I’ve never attempted before. Getting into the old Tin Pan Alley thing. People like Gilbert and Sullivan and the English music hall singers. Popular Victorian kitsch. Edwardian parlor songs.

Shriekback is often labelled an intellectual band.
It’s high time we burst that bubble.

Are you college-educated?
No. It was between making a choice of being in a rock’n’roll band or going to university.

Are you religious?
I don’t belong to a religion. I don’t have any faith, in that way. I do have a strong religious sense. It’s difficult to say without it sounding pretentious. I have a sense of awe of a kind of religious veneration or worship in the presence of what is around – people, mainly, the rush and energy of people and what they can do and build and keep going on and having babies. Just what it is to be alive. There’s definitely a force that moves us on in a mysterious way. I said to someone once that I feel about religion the way I felt about sex when I was 12. You know there’s something going on, but you don’t know what the fuck it is!


To read more about Shriekback's music and career, please visit their website (sign up for the newsletter for free downloads) and Tumblr. You can also join in our conversations over on Facebook. And, while you're at it, pick up a copy of their new album, Without Real String or Fish!

tinhuviel: (Augury)

Book Tweeter has made a splash page for The Augury of Gideon. Click the image to check it out!


tinhuviel: (Augury)
Finally here! Click on the picture to revisit the world of Cadmus Pariah and the Great Hive, as they embark on retrieving the third and last great Relic, the Augury of Gideon.

Drifting

Aug. 2nd, 2014 12:38 pm
tinhuviel: (Default)

It is cloudy today.  I don’t know how long it will last, so I’m looking out the window occasionally to enjoy the lack of sun.  Smidgen and Toby are here with me on the bed.  I am rifling through a couple of old Shriekback articles I need to transcribe, whilst following various news sources concerning the chaos on several continents, mainly the Gaza tragedy and the Ebola outbreak. But I’m also taking mini-breaks from all that to aggressively seek out stuff that will make me laugh.  Laughter is sometimes the only thing that will convince me I’m going to make it through the day without killing myself or someone else, or both.


Some new health issues have come up, but I’m not going to delve into that until I see my doctor on the 7th of August.


As is evidenced in my post last night, I am still writing.  I don’t know when The Augury of Gideon is going to be released, but I promise it is complete and ready, for anyone who might be interested.  Also, I started a Facebook page for The Vampire Relics.  Please click the title to go see and join up.  I’d love to have you.


For the past few days, I’ve been missing Todd a great deal.  I don’t think I’ll ever get over losing him, and I do worry about him a lot, given what I assume to be some serious emotional upheaval in his life this past year.  One of the things I liked about coming out to California was to have a better chance of seeing him again, since he’s also on the West Coast.  It’s safe to say that won’t be happening.


Also, I’m deeply frustrated in regard to helping people effectively use the power of the Internet that is right at their finger-tips.  I am by, by no means, a computer or network expert, but I’ve dabbled, explored, and worked damned hard to learn what I have over the past 15 years, and I would like to think that my efforts will not be vain, but I’m beginning to think I’ll always be the one to “set the time on the VCR”, so to speak.


Janice is finally getting her knee replacement, I think next week.  She was wonderful at taking care of me after mine, so I feel a bit guilty not being there for her.  She said she’d be okay, and she does have Johnna, Michael, and the kids.  Blake is going to be staying with Uncle Michael during her recovery.  I hope everything goes as smoothly for her as it did for me.  I know her doctor.  He was Aunt Tudi’s orthopedic doctor, so I have no doubt she is in very good hands.


I am thinking about committing to “paper” some accounts from my childhood that haunt me to this day.  There are four, three of which have to do the paranormal or alien engagement, and one that I think was the Mother and Father Units fucking with me when I was in my crib.  When I sufficiently gathered my thoughts about that, I’ll begin posting about them.  I need to see if anyone else has ever experienced anything similar.


The Mother Unit is going to Costco later on, and I need to go with her.  It’s time to restock cat litter and the fur-kids’ vittles.  I don’t know what she and Matt have planned for tomorrow.  Maybe we’ll go drumming, if the timing is right and we all feel like it.  It would probably do me a little bit of good to get out of the house, at least as long as the sun isn’t trying to incinerate me.  It’s not that it is hot, but that is almost always present.  I feel like an ant under a magnifying glass.



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tinhuviel: (Richard Ayoade)
Given my arguable success in the proliferation of All Things Shriek, Barry Andrews, and his latest mini-project, ANAXATON6, one would think that I'm some kind of expert, but I'm not.

Everything I learned about promotions, I learned by observing the BMG branches across the country, and what they'd get up to in getting the word of a new album by an established artist, or a debut album by a relatively unknown talent. The department I worked in was Point of Purchase, which was responsible for getting in-store play CDs to stores and radio stations, as well as sending promotional tchatchkes like posters, flats, press kits, even frisbees at one point.

All this really came in handy when I encountered the Shrieks for real and true, and began doing what my branch friends were used to doing all that time. Plus, I was able to give advice about promotions, when it was asked for, or when I thought it prudent. It was all a very educational experience.

During this time, I learned that I was actually pretty good at the proliferation of truly deserving talent. I even extended whatever I could offer to Scott McClure of The Joker Blogs fame, working diligently with some other wonderfully talented souls to bring to the world who should be the next Joker, if there is a god.

But I've come to realise that I suck like a pissed-off black hole at promoting myself. I try my damnedest, but I don't think it's every really good enough. I'm one of those people who hangs her head and looks furtively about for the nearest exit, just in case I have to dash out, wailing with horror at the very thought to trying to tell another person why they should read my books.

I think that's one of the reasons I am genuinely fond of Richard Ayoade. He's great in his acting roles, and at panel shows, which showcase his perfect deadpan humour. But, if you ask him about his own work, like the movie Submarine, he starts with the nervous head-scratching (which is adorable, given the unruly, beautiful mess that it is) and the constant eyeglass adjusting. Plus, he has problems making eye contact, which makes most of his pictures look kind of like he's waiting for the aliens to land at any moment.

So, it's not that he's just an absolutely beautiful man, his honest shyness and self-deprecation are traits I relate to on an extremely profound level. I empathise with him, especially right now, when The Augury of Gideon is close to being published.

What would be ideal would be for RA to promote my book, and I could promote his movies, shows, and writing credits. That would be in some perfect world in which I shall sadly never live.

Flogging one's own work just seems so ego-centric. I think that's what distresses me most. I'm not one to hoot and holler about whatever talents I think I have. I'm gratified that some people see some potential in me, just as a bevy of individuals consider Ayoade a brilliant individual. I guess I'm more of a "here's something I hope you like. If you do, please say so in public, that'd be great" kind of person. And that's what I see in Richard Ayoade, and what endears him to me so much, not to mention he's the bastard child of Prince and Urkel.

I kid you not.

 photo princeayoade.png



The more nervous he gets, the more he scratches his head and adjusts his glasses. He's like an textbook case of self-consciousness. I don't see how he does it, really. If I had to go before a camera and talk about The Vampire Relics, I'd be shot off into space for the benefit and protection of the entire human race. Anyway, I need any advice that anyone can give me on how to plug my wares without dying from embarressment. I'd ask Richard, but I have no way to do so, so that's pretty much out of the question.

What I'd really love to do is ask Richard Ayoade how he psyches himself out for interviews and movie promotions at film festivals. The problem with this is I'm sure I'd do two things: wrap around him like an alien face hugger, and hang my head in shyness for even being around him in the first place. I imagine he'd talk to the walls or out the window, and I'd be overly verbose with the floor.

Gads. How can someone overcome being a hang-dog when it comes to their own creations, when they can be so enthusiastic about others'? I JUST DON'T GET IT. If I could only be a fraction as enthusiastic about my own work, as I am Barry Andrews', I may already have a movie deal ~ in a parallel universe.
tinhuviel: (Bellatrix)
As soon as I get my retroactive pay, I have to call and make an appointment for a root canal and crown. Until then, I'm drugged upon amoxicillin and Lortab...and prayer. At least I got to see Dr. Wyss, who was super kind to me. I don't think he has long for this world, which makes me very sad, 'cos I'm not very fond of his replacement. I may change dentists when the time comes. I dunno. I told Dr. Wyss about my book, who asked where the publisher was located. He wasn't fond that it was in Wales, since he's of English origin. I told him I was Welsh, but I loved everything about the UK, including all the people, so it's all good. He asked if it were available at Barnes & Noble, and I told him it was available where all books were made available. I may just buy two more books and give one to him and his receptionist Lois. They've both been so incredible good to me over the years, it's the least I could do for them, even though the story may squick them no end. I warned them that my Vampires did not sparkle and that my hero was actually an anti-hero, so I'm unsure if they'll want to read it at all.

I did make a funny though. I told Dr. Wyss that the book was about teeth, as it was about Vampires. He was amused.

In the meantime, as soon as I get my settlement, I'm to call and schedule a root canal and crown. It should cost around $800. Whoop-tee-doo. After that, I can start getting my teeth back on track after a couple of years of not being able to take care of them. Then I can proceed with biting people again. BWAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

The rest of the day will consist of eating amoxicillin, Lortab, crying and watching trash TV. It's a plan.
tinhuviel: (Chalice)
I got 'em I got 'em! They're beautiful! Everyone involved in making this a reality really outdid themselves. I am so happy. Now...It's time to do some signing. SQUEE!
tinhuviel: (Maul - shit)
UPS hasn't delivered the books yet. I'm freaked out. I'm having flashbacks to when I worked and had to talk the company out of the shithole of trouble because UPS dropped the ball. What if they delivered to the wrong location or refused to leave the package because Uncle Michael can't make it to the door? I keep refreshing the UPS page to see what's going on with the package and all I get is "in transit." I want "delivered." I'd have so much relief and be happy to finally hold the books in my hands. Today was supposed to be the day. UPS, don't screw it up. Please.

What if...

Sep. 28th, 2010 12:14 pm
tinhuviel: (Khaaaaaan!!)
I'm as jumpy as a virgin at a prison rodeo. I'm being bombarded with "what ifs."

What if...

  • The books get lost en route to Uncle Michael's house

  • The books are damaged in transit

  • The books arrive and they look horrible (despite Stacy and Amy's beautiful work)

  • The books aren't delivered today despite their being out for delivery

  • I get the wrong books

  • I mess up signing the books thanks to my shaky hands

  • I write the wrong name in the wrong book

  • I don't have enough books and have to get more

  • I open the book box, have a heart attack and die right there



So that's how my day is going. How's about you?
tinhuviel: (Chalice)

“May you always have a home.”  This is the wish made to both Michelle Bradley and to readers of Amy M. Levy’s lovely and surreal work Welcome to River Street, a collection of a novella and two short-stories.

The novella, taking its title from the work as a whole, tells the story in vignettes in time, bouncing from year to year, month to month, leaving the reader with a sense of controlled confusion and uneasiness, as Michelle Bradley is revealed in the narrative. Much like peeling an onion, the reader is drawn into Michelle’s multi-layered world. She is the new tenant at the large house that’s converted into individual apartments. Her roommates welcome her warmly and, even though her landlord leaves a lot to be desired, her room and the large apartment of which it’s a part is perfect for Michelle. Life can’t get any better at the moment, what with the new home, a good job, and a boyfriend to die for. But something seems terribly wrong soon after Michelle moves in. All is not as it seems and the reader begins to discover a very different Michelle as time jumps back and forth, revealing a ever-darkening world and the disturbed woman living in it. We watch the collapse from a safe distance, much like the strange pale man who haunts Michelle wherever she goes.

The two short-stories, “Throwaway” and “Roses Say It All,” introduce us to two other women who live at the same address on River Street. Both are fraught with an eerie presence as we’re drawn into their world, their lives. After reading these, the reader may begin to wonder if the River Street apartments carry some sort of curse, but will still want to live in a place like this. The short-stories leave you satisfied after the madness that permeated “Welcome to River Street.”

Amy M. Levy’s first book is a treasure. If you’re a fan of good writing combined with good story lines, this book is a must. I would recommend it to anyone, especially people who like a little mystery and strangeness in their lives. Ms. Levy brings bewildering beauty to you via her words, and you’ll be left to roam the fantastical world of Michelle, Cynthia, and the woman downstairs. I can assure you that this book will be one you’ll reread, probably more than once. It’s just that good.

tinhuviel: (Cadmus Wrath)

I'm what-ifing myself to death. What if the book is published and Barry actually reads it? Is he gonna hate me for Cadmus' numerous crimes against humanity and Vampire-kind? Carl is interested in the book, too. Is he gonna freak out over Cadmus? Should I tell him that Cadmus' name is his name bastardised? Would he mind if he knew? What if the book is published and nobody buys it? Or they buy it and hate it? What if people actually like it and start clamouring for The Blood Crown, which I haven't finished yet? What if I start getting pushed to finish it? Deadlines make me crazy, even though I do well writing under pressure. Take NaNoWriMo for instance. Still though, the thought of a bunch of people poking at me makes me extremely uneasy.

ANY...way. Fibro is kicking my ass right now. I'm in desperate need of a massage, but I'm to sensitive to be touched. It hurts to be touched just when I need to be touched. If I didn't have the Lyrica, I'd probably crawl off and die. On top of that, I think my left knee is getting water on it. I have no idea what I'm going to do if that's the case. If I have to, I'll go back to Dr. Keith since he's paid off, but I really don't want to because his financial person is a bitch who reamed me out about the money I owed in front of all the waiting patients. Her exact words were "You don't take your car to a mechanic without paying for it." Gee, I didn't realise Dr. Keith was also an auto mechanic. ...bitch.

I'm thinking of selling all my books on Witchcraft, except for <i>The Witches Bible</i> and a couple of others as resource information for any future rituals I attend or officiate. I never look at most of these books and I think it's time to let them go to someone who needs them. I could use the money too.

That "World's Greatest Spokesperson in the World" is irritating as all Sith Hell. I want to take that blue phone of his and shove it up his chocolate wizway. I've had Nationwide Insurance since the early 80s. I don't need some bozo with a blue phone to tell me how good they are. Nationwide needs to come to grips that their advertising ploy will never measure up to Geico commercials and just shut up and sell insurance. Idiots...

I sound like I'm in a bad mood. I'm always in a bad mood. My counselor tells me I need to essentially re-program myself to think good thoughts and my depression will ease up. Is she right? I don't know. I'm trying that half-smile technique, but I feel like I'm grimacing when I do it. I need to think positive thoughts, she said. I always come up on the negative side, which is why I feel so bad. Again, is she right? I don't know. I'm afraid that she's trying to kill my Inner Sith. Rosa told me that I was the most difficult case she's had in six years because I'm so smart. In so many words, she suggested I try to dumb myself down because the therapy will be more helpful. Apparently ignorance is bliss. Who'da thunk?

Fringe comes on in 10 minutes. That makes me happy.

Then sleep. Blessed sleep.


Book Meme

May. 3rd, 2010 06:59 pm
tinhuviel: (Thy Mama)
Stolen from the lovely [livejournal.com profile] batchfile. I think I've done this before, but what the hey, eh?

Bold the ones you’ve read COMPLETELY, italicise the ones you’ve read part of, and no cheating. Watching the movie or the cartoon doesn’t count. Abridged versions don’t count either. BTW, according to the BBC if you’ve read 7 of these, you are above the average.

Total Completely Read: 25

1 Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
2 The Lord of the Rings - JRR Tolkien
3 Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte
4 Harry Potter series - JK Rowling
5 To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee
6 The Bible
7 Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte
8 Nineteen Eighty Four - George Orwell

9 His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
10 Great Expectations - Charles Dickens
11 Little Women - Louisa M Alcott
12 Tess of the D’Urbervilles - Thomas Hardy
13 Catch 22 - Joseph Heller
14 Complete Works of Shakespeare
15 Rebecca - Daphne Du Maurier
16 The Hobbit - JRR Tolkien
17 Birdsong - Sebastian Faulk
18 Catcher in the Rye - JD Salinger
19 The Time Traveler’s Wife - Audrey Niffenegger
20 Middlemarch - George Eliot
21 Gone With The Wind - Margaret Mitchell
22 The Great Gatsby - F Scott Fitzgerald
23 Bleak House - Charles Dickens
24 War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy
25 The Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams
26 Brideshead Revisited - Evelyn Waugh
27 Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky
28 Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck
29 Alice in Wonderland - Lewis Carroll
30 The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Grahame
31 Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy
32 David Copperfield - Charles Dickens
33 Chronicles of Narnia - CS Lewis
34 Emma - Jane Austen
35 Persuasion - Jane Austen
36 The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe - CS Lewis
37 The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini
38 Captain Corelli’s Mandolin - Louis De Bernieres
39 Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden
40 Winnie the Pooh - AA Milne
41 Animal Farm - George Orwell
42 The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown
43 One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
44 A Prayer for Owen Meaney - John Irving
45 The Woman in White - Wilkie Collins
46 Anne of Green Gables - LM Montgomery
47 Far From The Madding Crowd - Thomas Hardy
48 The Handmaid's Tale - Margaret Atwood
49 Lord of the Flies - William Golding
50 Atonement - Ian McEwan
51 Life of Pi - Yann Martel
52 Dune - Frank Herbert
53 Cold Comfort Farm - Stella Gibbons
54 Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen
55 A Suitable Boy - Vikram Seth
56 The Shadow of the Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon
57 A Tale Of Two Cities - Charles Dickens
58 Brave New World - Aldous Huxley
59 The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night - Mark Haddon
60 Love In The Time Of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
61 Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck
62 Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov
63 The Secret History - Donna Tartt
64 The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold
65 Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas
66 On The Road - Jack Kerouac
67 Jude the Obscure - Thomas Hardy
68 Bridget Jones' Diary - Helen Fielding
69 Midnight’s Children - Salman Rushdie
70 Moby Dick - Herman Melville
71 Oliver Twist - Charles Dickens
72 Dracula - Bram Stoker
73 The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett
74 Notes From A Small Island - Bill Bryson
75 Ulysses - James Joyce
76 The Inferno – Dante

77 Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome
78 Germinal - Emile Zola
79 Vanity Fair - William Makepeace Thackeray
80 Possession - AS Byatt
81 A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens
82 Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell
83 The Color Purple - Alice Walker
84 The Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro
85 Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert
86 A Fine Balance - Rohinton Mistry
87 Charlotte's Web - EB White
88 The Five People You Meet In Heaven - Mitch Albom
89 Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
90 The Faraway Tree Collection - Enid Blyton
91 Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad
92 The Little Prince - Antoine De Saint-Exupery
93 The Wasp Factory - Iain Banks
94 Watership Down - Richard Adams
95 A Confederacy of Dunces - John Kennedy Toole
96 A Town Like Alice - Nevil Shute
97 The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas
98 Hamlet - William Shakespeare
99 Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - Roald Dahl
100 Les Miserables - Victor Hugo
tinhuviel: (Cadmus)
Aunt Tudi and I have some errands to run later. After that, though, I have some things I want to do.

I've begun a new quote renovation, taking old quotes and giving modern interpretations, usually Sithly in nature, 'cos that's how I roll yo.

I'm also going to be writing a thing for the mods on TJB on how to deal with 'problem children' on the forums and on their networking sites. We're all being friended and followed from You Tube to Twitter and, sometimes, it gets little hairy with some of the more obnoxious Nerfs. Since I've had experience with folks like this in the past, especially whilst working in The Pit, I'm gonna impart what knowledge I have regarding this to the mods, one of which is relatively new to the net and are a little freaked out by what she's recently had to deal with. I expect things are only gonna get worse in the respect with the release of the next couple of episodes of The Joker Blogs. Tasks will be involved, so things are sure to get crazy.

The next part of The Blood Crown is for Kelat to pass on to Orphaeus the body of knowledge she carries within her infinite memory. He'll be come the keeper of all the Tarmian history and wisdom in relation to the Tribes of Thessaly, making him the first male to hold such sacred knowledge, and the first human. I think his title won't be Father of Memory, but Bard of Memory. In Tarmian, the word would be Kelat'lihar'vha, which essentially means the Singer of Memory. The memories will come unbidden to him as they are needed on the journey to and quest within Rome. Cadmus will be furious that he must depend on Orphaeus for knowledge they need for the success of their venture, but it won't matter because this ability Orphaeus possesses will be the one thing that will keep him alive in the presence of such a volatile and vicious Vampire.

I'm thinking of seeking collaboration in turning The Chalice into a screenplay. The book was always a movie in my head first. I'd had the thing cast, the person I wanted to score the film, and possible directors. I never stuck with one director, because none of them seemed just right for maintaining the vision I wanted. Maybe Peter Jackson, but I'm not sure he'd want to move away from the central goodness he tries to instill in his films, even though he comes from a gory, ridiculous background. Neither one really fits The Chalice anyway. Sure there's fantasy and blood, but neither really fits into the Jackson world. I need a director who has a hint of sociopathy, who can tap into the soul of the Cadmus character and allow the actor to bring him out in all his horrible glory. Personally, I'd like Ed Kowalczyk to play Cadmus Pariah. After seeing the 'Freaks' video, I really think he could pull it off, and he's had acting experience before, having appeared in The Fight Club.





I added that extra video to show his stage presence. He has that hypnotic charismatic power over his audience that I've described in Cadmus more than once. I think he'd be a dead ringer for the Cadmus character. Of course Barry would be my first pick, but I don't think he'd be willing to do that and, honestly, he's too old for the young Vampire now. Not that he doesn't still look uncannily young for his age, don't get me wrong. I just wonder if Ed could do a British accent and if he'd be willing to work with Barry Andrews in the creation of the character for screen. And, of course, Barry would have to do the songs for Magnificat. I'd like for Danny Elfman to score the film.

Gods listen to me. I talk like it's already a given, and I still don't have anyone who could help me make it into a screenplay. Pathetic much? I'm way too much of a dreamer.

Speaking of music, [livejournal.com profile] booraven22 sent me a bunch, including "I Like It" by Moby. I was listening to it while on chat with one of the TJB mods, [livejournal.com profile] luvthyjoker, who also happens to be a fantastic video editor who shows her fine work at her You Tube channel. I sent the song to her with the message "Nerfs the world over would worship at your toes if you made a tribute video to this song." Well, she did. And I've been laughing uncontrollably ever since. I'm not posting the link here because that'd just be wrong of me, and I feel dirty enough as it is. Anyway, that's a lot of what I did yesterday, just cackling at the absurdity of what we'd done. I blame [livejournal.com profile] booraven22 for sending me the song. I have to blame someone.

These new meds are kicking my butt. I fell asleep during Knowing last night, so I need to watch the rest of that. For now, though, I think I'm gonna have another lie down.
tinhuviel: (PSA)
Don’t take too long to think about it.
Fifteen books you’ve read that will always stick with you.
First fifteen you can recall in no more than 15 minutes.
Copy the instructions into your own post



  1. The Silmarillion by JRR Tolkien (the quintessential Tolkien novel from which sprung all his other masterpieces. A must-read for any true Tolkien aficionado)

  2. Being and Nothingness by Jean-Paul Sartre (it's a bitch being existential. Reading this may help a tad)

  3. The Road by Cormac McCarthy (very depressing and heart-wrenching. Perfect Alpaca Lips reading)

  4. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams (fans of all things hilarious have to read this and the others in the Hitchhiker series, because it's a literary and comedy law.

  5. The Stand by Stephen King (the ultimate Alpaca Lips book. 'nuff said)

  6. Imajica by Clive Barker (arguably Mr. Barker's best work to date. Everything is answered in the pages of this book)

  7. The Hellbound Heart by Clive Barker (the heady days when Pinhead was known as nothing but Head Cenobite and was actually a female. Glad that changed for the movies.)

  8. The Lord of the Rings by JRR Tolkien (the fantasy novel by which every other fantasy novel is compared. A legendary litmus test yet to be outdone by anyone, and I doubt it ever will be)

  9. The Spiral Dance by Starhawk (If you're a Witch and haven't read this book, you may not be a Witch. Put down the Silver Ravenwolf, back away slowly, and run as fast as you can into the arms of Starhawk.)

  10. Memory, Sorrow, and Thorn Trilogy by Tad Williams (Tad comes close to rivaling JRR Tolkien in this series. Seriously.

  11. The Vampire Lestat by Anne Rice (Brilliant in every way. Even though this is the second in her Vampire Chronicles, I think The Vampire Lestat absolutely redefined the Vampire world and, dare I say, pumped fresh blood into a languishing genre)

  12. Bambi by Felix Salten (don't laugh. It's an incredible book and very little like its movie counterpart, the equally beautiful Disney movie. Did you know they used oil paintings for the forest backdrops in the movie, to make it look more realistic? It truly is a work of art, and so is the book that inspired it)

  13. The Mists of Avalon by Marion Zimmer Bradley (several hundred pages of pure poetry)

  14. The Bible by a bunch of people identifying themselves as God. (lots of wisdom and history here. A real shame its so-called adherents rarely pick it up and actually read it and understand it)

  15. 1984 by George Orwell (I wouldn't be the paranoid conspiracy theorist student of sociology I am today had it not been for this book. Thanks, George!)



Your turn people.

Friday

May. 28th, 2009 03:17 am
tinhuviel: (Blogger)
The plan on Friday is to have lunch with Timothy at the new Cracker Barrel right up the road. I've invited [livejournal.com profile] green_goblin7t to join us and it looks like he'll be able to make it. I'm taking with me a book I think Tim's brain will devour like a premenstrual woman let loose on a Symphony bar. It's The Book of Lies: The Disinformation Guide to Magick and the Occult. It wouldn't surprise me one bit if Timothy began reading, failed to eat his lunch, and utterly ignored [livejournal.com profile] green_goblin7t and me once he gets his mitts on the book. It's right up his alley, without a doubt. I'm taking the book to him with the full expectation of not seeing it for awhile, but that's okay; I've read it from cover to cover at least twice. I'm quite familiar with the contents.
tinhuviel: (Sexy Joker)
On my way from my Human Thought class to my Computer class, I swung by the Big PO to see what bad news was there waiting for me. Nestled in amongst the bills was a yellow card indicating I had something waiting on me in the office that was too big to fit in my PO Box. I inched myself into the office and said to Martha "gimme my package, beyotch!" Well, I didn't put it that way, but I thought it just for shits and giggles. How was I to know that my anti-social behaviour was about to be put in overdrive, thanks to [livejournal.com profile] booraven22?

It was an Amazon box, which always means Christmahanukwanzayule has come again! I took my box, thanked Martha, then hobbled out to the car to rip the corrugation up with a little knife I keep in the car. It's my letter opener. I don't use it for anything else, so don't get your collective panties in a bunch. I got the box open and, what to my wondering eyes should appear, but a giant Chelsea Grin with no tiny reindeer. I picked up the accompanying note and read:
Thought you could use some additional inspiration. Your Sithly sister, [livejournal.com profile] booraven22

How sweet! I exclaimed in my skull, and I rifled through the pages of the graphic novel she'd sent me. It looks absolutely delicious and I can't wait to sit down in a dark corner and read it with relish. The book is called Joker and it's by Brian Azzarello and Lee Bermejo. I'm in luff. Luff, I tell you, luff.

So, thank you, Boo, for making an otherwise bleak day Uber-Fantastico!
tinhuviel: (Ren WTF)
Help!

What literary villain walked like this because he was pulling a body behind him with a hook?

Thanks in advance.
tinhuviel: (Geeks for Obama)
Aunt Tudi heard about these books and wanted me to post a blurb about them here on The Cliffs. The first one is called The World is Curved by David Smick, and focuses on our global economy. The other one, How to Rig an Election: Confessions of a Republican Operative by Allen Raymond, is one of those books whose title pretty much speaks for itself.

Neither of us has read these books, but we plan on doing so at the earliest given opportunity. Aunt Tudi strongly suggests you read them, too.
tinhuviel: (Funky Bald Molina)
This is just my opinion, mind, so feel free to disagree. And feel free to make your own list. I'd be interested to see what you include. I'm using Wikipedia to provide info on each book. It may not be the best source of info, but it's easy and I'm lazy, so shut up.

  • The Illuminatus Trilogy by Robert Shea and Robert Anton Wilson: The penultimate conspiracy theory book. I haven't read it since 1993, when I lent the book to someone who promptly moved to Louisiana. It will absolutely rock the foundations of any belief you hold sacred. I contend that The Invisibles would never have come into existence had it not been for this book.

  • Riddley Walker by Russell Hoban: aka "Shriekback required reading." Set at least a couple of thousand years in the future, the remnants of humanity in England are barely recognisable as such. The plot follows a young man, Riddley Walker, who has experienced some major moments in a very short period of time. He shot what may be the last wild boar in England (this is referenced in the Shrieks' "Beatles Zebra Crossing"), his father died leaving Riddley to be his tribe's Connexion Man on the ripe age of 12, and he discovers he is dog frendy. The book is written phonetically to reflect the English of a post-nuclear holocaust future. It takes a couple of pages to get used to reading it but, long after you've finished the book, the slang sticks with you. This book was heavily influential in the making of Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome. The children in that movie speak Riddley-speak.

  • Pilgermann by Russell Hoban: Beautifully written, as are all of Mr. Hoban's works, Pilgermann tells the story of a European Jew travelling to Jerusalem on a pilgrimage, and the places and people he encounters en route. The language of this novel creates a certain spiritual uplift in the reader, or at least it did for me. Russell Hoban is a master of poetic prose, painting his novels more than writing them at times.

  • The Silmarillion by JRR Tolkien: It's my belief that one cannot fully understand the scope and wonder of The Lord of the Rings without reading The Silmarillion. It's a difficult book to read, but well worth the effort. This tells the story of the creation of the world and the birth of both Elves and Men, and it's a collection of the myths and legends of the First and Second Ages of Middle Earth. Tolkien's most personal and beloved work, The Silmarillion was never completed by him; rather, it was compiled by his son Christopher. Like most true myths, The Silmarillion was ever changing and, therefore, never ready for publication, at least in Tolkien's opinion. He began working on it in 1914 and he was writing on it until the day he died.

  • Memory, Sorrow, and Thorn by Tad Williams. This trilogy, consisting of The Dragonbone Chair, Stone of Farewell, and To Green Angel Tower rivals the literary pageantry of The Lord of the Rings. Tad Williams has the ability to create such sympathetic characters, you may actually find yourself brought to extreme states of emotion throughout your reading experience. The main character, Simon Mooncalf, is thrown into the adventure of which he'd always dreamt when he was nothing more than a castle scullion, and he soon finds out that adventure leaves a lot to be desired when it also entails threat of death, going hungry, and being cold and alone. Fortunately for Simon, he finds some very good friends on the road, and this ragtag group work to save the world from a power-sick king, a malevolent monk, and a race of angry Norns, led by the undead Storm King. Breathtaking.

  • Imajica by Clive Barker: a book every Pagan should read. This is Clive Barker's best book. Period. The story is about John Furie Zacharias, aka Gentle's attempt to reconcile the Five Dominions of creation, fulfilling his destiny as a Maestro. It follows his journey through the Dominions along with his assassin lover Pie Oh Pah, and the discoveries he makes during his journey, culminating in a reality-shattering confrontation with his father, the god Hapexamendios. Based on a dream he had, Clive Barker's passion shines through with every word in this book. You haven't truly read Clive unless you've read Imajica.


I think that'll do for now. Now go read!
tinhuviel: (Dubya)
From [livejournal.com profile] polypolyglot: I'm glad that you're reading the S.M. Stirling Emberverse books. Are there any other apocalypse-themed books you'd like to recommend to us?

As far as fiction is concerned, I highly recommend The Road by Cormac McCarthy. It's pretty much the bleakest novel I've ever read, which rates it high in my Gothic world. In regard to non-fiction Alpaca Liptic reading, I would suggest any books on the year 2012 and survival guides like how-to books on gardening, hunting, and defending oneself against angry mobs of hungry humans.


From [livejournal.com profile] sapphirescarlet: What's a good pick-me-up now that the Red Eye Grande is gone?

Politics. Watching the political drama during an election year in the United States is enough to get your blood boiling like three Redeye Grandés drunk one after the other.


From [livejournal.com profile] booraven22: Zombie George Bush tries to re-take the White House.

He lurched toward the front door, flesh dripping off his cocaine-saturated bones like dried syrup on an unwashed IHOP platter. The wet slapping of his rotten feet scared off a feral cat lurking in the shadows of the well-manicured shrubbery. The odour emitting from his dessicated body was not much different from what he smelled like when he was alive, so no alert was sounded since the Secret Service guards had long since become desensitized to that particular stench. When he finally reached the doors of the White House, Zombie George Bush rattled the handles and pounded on the wood, moaning a demand that he be granted entrance, that he was the only true leader of this country.

The door slowly opened, revealing the new President of the United States. In his hand was a railroad spike, which he swiftly plunged into Zombie George Bush's forehead. The tip of the spike exited at the base of his skull. Zombie George Bush stiffened, then crumpled at the President's feet.

"Why on Earth did you do that?" the First Lady asked, wrapping her house coat around her in reaction to the horror before her.

"It's the only way to kill zombies," the President said. "You have to destroy the brain, although I was afraid it wouldn't work on this one, considering who it was."

Both the President and First Lady laughed at this as they watch the Secret Service arrive to clean up the mess. Closing the door, the President led his wife back into the White House. It was going to be a busy day tomorrow, trying to right all the wrongs George W. Bush had enacted upon the nation and the world, and it was late. At least now, the world was safe from Zombie George Bush thanks to Barack Obama and an inexplicable railroad spike that just happened to be lying in a foyer of the White House.

And we all lived happily ever after.
tinhuviel: (Here is the news!)
To the best of my knowledge, these are all the books I've read so far this year.

  • The Dragonbone Chair by Tad Williams

  • Stone of Farewell by Tad Williams

  • To Green Angel Tower by Tad Williams

  • Dies the Fire by SM Stirling

  • The Protector's War by SM Stirling

  • A Meeting at Corvallis by SM Stirling

  • Red Dragon by Thomas Harris

  • The Silence of the Lambs by Thomas Harris

  • Hannibal by Thomas Harris

  • Mister B. Gone by Clive Barker

  • Rulers of Darkness by Steven G. Spruill


Just today I began reading The Sunrise Lands by SM Stirling and will probably reread Weaveworld by Clive Baker simultaneously. Although I'm ashamed to admit it, I don't remember a thing about Weaveworld. All I remember is reading it in 1991 while listening to an unlawful amount of Shriekback. It just occurred to me that I also read Cabal around this time whilst heavily listening to Go Bang!. The movie made from Cabal, Nightbreed, boasts a score written by Danny Elfman. Yet another ghoulish connection in Tin's Funhouse of Horror.
tinhuviel: (Barry Interview)
I'm pretty much a wreck. Yesterday, I got what I thought was just a bill from a radiology office and the doctor who read my MRI, but it also had a code, 784.0, in the diagnosis section of the bill. Aunt Tudi pointed it out to me late last night. So I got online to see if I could find anything and I was directed to severe headaches and multiple sclerosis, often in association with multiple sclerosis. Shit!! So now I'm worried and will remain that way until I see Dr. Pilch on 6 August. What if I have multiple sclerosis? What do I do? Can it be treated? Will I be able to continue work? Shit!!

**deep breath**

In other news, I finished Hannibal and now I'm pissed off all over again at the movie. Why didn't they hold true to the book and have Clarice join Dr. Lecter in his world of beauty and perfection? There was nothing left for her at the FBI and she knew it. The movie makes no sense. Were the filmmakers concerned that the fans would have a problem with Clarice and Lecter becoming an item? If so, they were so out of touch. The people who went to see Hannibal were fans of Dr. Hannibal Lecter. They would have cheered the new couple on! Idiots.

The next book I'm reading is Mr. B. Gone by none other than Clive Barker. I expect I'll be in for quite a ride. I may listen to lots of Shriekback while reading the book. When I first started reading Clive Barker, I had gotten into Shriekback, so the music and his words have merged as one in my mind. Maybe that's why I became so fearful of Barry. Who knows? "Night Town" is a very good soundtrack to Cabal, the book on which Nightbreed is based. To me Midian is "Night Town."
tinhuviel: (My Muse)
I'm afraid I'm gonna have to set aside any serious Cadmus-related projects for the duration I'm reading Hannibal. Some characters tend to overshadow my psyche to where I don't trust myself when I'm writing one of my own characters. Hannibal Lecter is one of these big no-no's for me. Another is John Doe from Se7en. It should be of note that I've always related both Hannibal and John Doe to Barry Andrews. In fact, the emotion that is communicated on screen by Clarice Starling when she receives the surprise letter from Hannibal in the movie of the same name is exactly how I felt when I found that unassuming note from B in my old AOL inbox almost a decade ago ~~ that ice water down the spine fright and excitement, tinged with curiosity and enthrallment. I grokked Clarice in that moment in time. Not to say that B is anything like Hannibal Lecter; rather, my phobia-driven impression of him is akin to the vision of Hannibal that Thomas Harris has conjured. Same goes for John Doe. Kevin Spacey, by the way, has been the primary choice to play Barry Andrews in an XTC biopic by members on the Chalkhills mailing list. Personally, I think this is because of his portrayal of John Doe. I could be wrong.

But, as I'm wont to do on this subject, I'm babbling, so I'll shut my virtual trap now.

In related news, I was thinking how cool it would be if the coterie of writers who've formed a loose alliance here on LJ collaborated on an impromptu Round Robin, each of us contributing one of our characters for a fun little story. Why? No reason why, really. Just for the hell of it. Something to keep our collective creative juices dripping. Think about it.... a story involving [livejournal.com profile] booraven22's Angelica and Jaden, [livejournal.com profile] morriganwind's Morrigan or any number of her Pagan Vampires, and Cadmus (or Orphaeus or Kelat, for that matter). Anyone else wanting to contribute would donate and write their own character and we'd see where the tale took us. It may be fun. Hell, it may develop into something beneficial to everyone involved ~ a LiveJournal novel written by friends and fellow literary sinners. Just a thought.

In the meantime, I'm going to take a break from developing The Blood Crown and editing The Chalice until I've completed and digested Hannibal. I'm about a third of the way through the book, so it won't be long before I'm sludging through the muck of my own twisted mind again.
tinhuviel: (Caveman)
Since my gbs, I've become slightly lactose intolerant. This doesn't bother me, really, but it does place those in my vicinity in quite a precarious position, especially if I ingest large quantities of dairy products. Milk-based foods are pretty much my favourite and a day doesn't go by that I don't shove something that came out of a cow into my face. Lately, though, I've been aggressively craving dairy, particularly cheese. The main source of my protein for the past 48 hours has been Aunt Tudi's extra sharp cheddar cheese. The cheese goes in and noxious fumes come out. Aunt Tudi now has a permanent green hue around the edges of her person. Even the dogs, who thrive on gnarly aromas, are avoiding me with enthusiasm. The only discomfort I've suffered from all this is having to maintain a modicum of civility at work instead of letting it rip like the natural woodland beast I am. By the time 2 PM rolled around, I felt like an over-inflated balloon on the verge of being pricked by a needle. I came home and that was it. Aunt Tudi and the critters have been done for, but I can now breathe easy and am currently having my supper, which consists of a large chunk of cheese and a handful of vegetable crackers. It wouldn't surprise me if Dubya sent his brute squad to my house to beat me senseless for being a weapon of mass destruction. Or maybe Al Gore would send over a herd of environmentally concerned hippies to chide me for eating another hole in the ozone layer.


I need to wax my eyebrow. It's been April since I did anything with it and it has once again become my unibrow. A little bit of wax on the bridge of my nose and a stripe of wax underneath each side to give me that Elf arch should do the trick. It's just a matter of actually doing it. If I don't soon, I'll be featured in the next Geico adverts, griping about how Cavewomen are sheisted even more than Cavemen, and demanding a fresh plate of roast duck with mango salsa.


If my name had been Erin Brokovich, I would have adopted "Go" as my middle name.


Aunt Tudi taped a Law & Order: Criminal Intent that guest-starred Joan Jett. Now that Jeopardy is off, we're gonna watch that and, then, I'm crawling off to bed to gas myself into a stupour. Hopefully, I'll sleep better than I did last night, which sucked on the slumber front. If I could sleep as well at night as I do in the early morning, I'd be one well-rested and happy individual. Unfortunately, I don't. As soon as I really get into sleeping, it's time to get up and go to work. That's a sorry way to be, but such is life in the Insomnia Zone. Something tells me that I'm gonna sleep pretty good tonight.


To encourage sleep, I'm going to read some before turning out the light. I checked out the book Hannibal by Thomas Harris from the library. I read it once before, back in 2001, on my way to NYC for the taping of ELO on VH-1 Storytellers. I got so caught up in the book that I almost missed boarding the plane back home in Detroit. I was sitting right there at the gate and didn't even hear the announcement that boarding had commenced. They made the last call for boarding when I realised I had like five minutes to make it on board. Imagine my chagrin had I missed my flight home and had to explain that I had lost myself in a book about a serial killer and cannibal wooing an FBI agent. I still get embarrassed by the thought of it, seven years after the fact. So, anyway, I'm rereading the novel since I just recently read Red Dragon and The Silence of the Lambs.

I love these books and I adore the character of Hannibal Lecter; however, there's one thing about Harris' writing style that gets my goat. The man has issues when it comes to keeping the story in tense. One sentence will be in past tense, then the next will be in present tense. I'm thinking this is intentional, and probably done for stylistic purposes, but it's frustrating for a grammatical purist like myself to see a published writer play fast and loose with the language, not that I'm a shining beacon of the Queens English by long shot. It just torques me that Mr. Harris is a successful published author whose novels have been committed to film when it appears as if he can't string two proper sentences together and keep them in a coherent time frame. And here I am fretting over my wee tale, certain that it'll be rejected for not adhering to the modern moratorium on so-called purple prose. Gah.
tinhuviel: (Tarmi)
I've begun reading the third book in the Memory, Sorrow, and Thorn trilogy. It's been 15 or so years since I read Tad Williams' fantasy masterpiece, so a lot of the story had been lost to me. That's one reason why I re-read some books: I forget the intricacies of the plot and want to revisit that world. I should be amazed at how much I'd forgotten about this story, but I'm not. Tad Williams has woven such a beautiful literary universe, there's no way that anyone could remember everything about it, especially after over a decade has passed since initial reading. I'm truly astounded and feel as though I'm enjoying the books more this time around than I did back in the early 90s.

If you like fantasy literature and are fond of Tolkien-like epics, I strongly recommend Memory, Sorrow, and Thorn. It starts out a little slowly, with Tad Williams giving a lot of description and food-dragging in regard to bringing on "the action," but that just adds the character Simon's described boredom and frustration at his place in the Hayholt and in the world Give the story a chance and trudge through it, don't give up. It's worth every word.

To Green Angel Tower is over 1000 pages long. When I pulled it out at work, a lot of folks were ga-ga over the obvious girth of the book. They were like "Are you gonna read that entire book? How long will it take? Do you even have a life? Are you insane? Are these books any good? Don't you read romance books?" And I could go on. But I won't. Because I'm not sadistic. Heh.

One thing that really astonished me was Tad Williams' Sithi. They have so much in common with the Tarmi, these books only added to my firm belief that we both are pulling from the same ancestral memories of an alien race that shared/shares the Earth with us Earthlings. There are too many of us humans who come up with tales, song, poetry, and art that reflects an almost cellular knowledge of these incredible beings. It's just all too coincidental for my taste. There's something more going on here. I hope that, someday, everything will be made clear to us all and that the origins of our collective memory will either return or be brought to light in a manner that will leave no doubt to anyone that these individuals did actually exist (or still exist).

[livejournal.com profile] popfiend

Apr. 22nd, 2008 10:12 pm
tinhuviel: (Darth Geek)
Thank you! Llew was very pleasantly surprised and has something for the first time in years: an actual library! You're a lovely soul, mister man. Lovely. I owe you many coconuts.
tinhuviel: (Default)
[Poll #1163022]


Unless the Mighties smile down upon me, my session here will end in 15 minutes. Damnation! I want my computer back! ::falls over on her tummy, kicking and flailing her arms like one of the many brats she despises so::   Something has to be done, I swear to the Goddess in Her boundless patience.  My computer must return to me safely.  Now.  Immediately.  I don't do patience well.  I know this is a lesson for me to learn, to study and examine about how useless I am when it comes to not getting my way.  But now is not that time to learn that lesson.  Now is the time for me to have unlimited Internet access, dammit.
tinhuviel: (Frustration)
I feel like I'm trudging through Dies the Fire. There are some books where it will take me 50-100 pages before I'll really get into it, because I'm missing the book I just finish and, like an immature git, taking it out on the new book I'm reading. I'm on page 180 of Dies the Fire and I'm still having issues getting into it. Honestly, I feel like SM Stirling is beating me over the head with the whole Wiccan thing. I've been a round a lot of Wiccans, Pagans, and Witches over the years and none but the fluffiest of bunnies talk like Juniper and her Clan MacKenzie. Once those bunnies either grow up within the Craft or grow away from the Craft, they stop talking like that. I'm catching myself talking to the book, saying things like "All right, already, we get the message that Junie is a Wiccan. And you're using the phrase 'blessed be' wrong, so shut your literary pie-hole, can'tcha?"

Yeah, I'm a little disappointed. I was hoping for something a bit more substantial, what with this being an Alpaca Liptic story, and I'm actually going to see the book through to the end, hoping that the vision of a world irrevocably Changed will be redeemed to me. But I doubt I'll seek out the sequels unless something drastic changes my mind.

By contrast, Llew is really enjoying the book. He started it last weekend and is devouring the pages. I'm only ahead of him by about ten pages and that's only because I've been taking the book to work with me and reading during the day. I guess this is the perfect example of how one man's trash is another man's treasure, although I wouldn't necessarily call Dies the Fire trash. I sure as hell wouldn't call it treasure either.

Thomasina

Jun. 23rd, 2006 01:16 pm
tinhuviel: (Alien)
Okay, this will make no sense.....even to me.

I was meant to read The Invisibles. If I wasn't certain of it before, I am now.

For me, everything is connected. I always trace the connections from one thing to another, to see how something led me to where I am now. Some of the connections are mind-boggling. For instance, I can connect my meeting Barry Andrews to hearing the song "On the Turning away" by Pink Floyd back in 1987. Pink Floyd to Syd Barrett to the Cure to Shrieback to Barry and Pink Floyd to Syd Barrett to psychedelia to the Dukes of Strasophear to XTC to Barry Andrews. Everything is connected. Everything means something and everything happens for a reason. I believe this.

When I was a child, I saw this movie on TV that touched me so deeply, I seen see the patterns of my life repeating the plotline of this movie even today. It was called The Three Lives of Thomasina. It's about a cat that supposedly dies at the hands of her little girl's father, who is a vet, but is brought back to life by the Witch who lives up the mountain. This Witch has a way with animals and has dozens of critters living with her and around her. I always wanted to be this Witch woman. Now, with over 30 cats and a reputation for being able to heal animals, I think I've realised my dream.

No one else ever remembered or knew about this film until I met my Soulmate, who remembered it quite well. He always wanted to meet a woman like the Witch woman in the movie. He wanted to live that kind of enchanted life. At that time, I knew we'd met for a reason. There were a lot of moments like that between us, defining moments that told us what our souls already knew. We shared past lives. We shared common philosophies. We shared a most improbable movie that no one seemed to remember.

Now, once I was led to Shriekback and started buying their albums, I began what I always end up doing with anything that interests me: research. The basis of my research was the liner notes on the back of the insert of the Dancing Years album, where I saw that Barry Andrews had gone on from Shriekback to form a group called The Illuminati. So I went to the library and got my mind blown. Instead of finding Andrews' Illuminati, I found the Illuminati, and I was immediately sucked into every conspiracy theory known to humankind. At the same time, I had become a dedicant in the Temple Hecate Triskele and I became active in the local counter-culture, helping to publish a subversive newsletter and participating in many protests and demonstrations. I introduced myself to Robert Anton Wilson.

Nine years later, I began hunting for fellow Shriek fans online and I found Michelle, who mentioned King Mob to me. In fact, a lot of Shriekback fans were keen on King Mob and the Invisibles. Fine. I checked into it, but never read the graphic novel. I figured I'd get to it someday. Well, that someday ended up starting while I was in England. [livejournal.com profile] falkenna had the series and couldn't stress enough how I needed to read it. So I began. So far, so good. I could relate to everything in the books. Every possible conspiracy theory I've studied is touched upon in The Invisibles, even the 2012 end date. I've been quite simply amazed by it all. Then, I read this, in the last volume of the series:

Edith Manning: The film you were rambling about the other night; the one you said explained everything. Don't let your cleverness get the better of you, Mr. Lang. Take care, dear.
[INSERT]: RVM MODULE REFERENCE: In the taxi, Mason remembers the name of the movie. "Thomasina." In the hotel room with Edith and Gideon, Mason Lang explains: "It's about this ginger cat who dies and comes back to life and her name in the film is "Thomasina," even though ginger cats are generally male, I always thought. Anyway...that's...."


Full Circle. That's the only explanation. Morrison had my attention before. Now? I'm all eyes and ears. It was like a trigger. A lot of what I am today is because of "The Three Lives of Thomasina," and now this revolutionary graphic novel seems to be speaking to me directly, saying that the movie explains everything. It's too much of a coincidence. That's why I don't believe in coincidence.
tinhuviel: (Frustration)
I was so excited to get this book but, now that I have it, I'm afraid to read it. I keep getting the feeling that, once I read this book, I'll realise how thoroughly crappy my own book is, and then I'll have to ritually burn it and then jump off a bridge.

I've had the book for two days and all I've done is peer at it fearfully, then walk on by.
tinhuviel: (PSA)
I got to thinking about American culture earlier and it occurred to me that we are the human equivalent of the Warren of the Shining Wires in the book Watership Down. This warren was the one inhabited by the very healthy, sleek, well-groomed rabbits. They wanted for nothing, but there seemed to be an unspoken horror just beneath their veneer of paradise. And did it really matter that, every once in a while, one of their number would disappear. All that mattered is that they were well taken care of. So their poetry was a tad bleak and their outlook was a wee bit....Gothic....they were well taken care of. We in America are too pampered, too sheltered, and too used to getting our way. Eventually our Warren of the Shining Wires will turn into Efrafa, but we'll still be knee deep in denial that there's something terribly awry with our society. There's something wrong with our own being sent off to the snares (Iraq) and commanded to kill innocents for absolutely no good reason other than the promise that the good carrots will keep on coming. And we should know that only certain rabbits in our warren get the really good carrots while only the least deserving of death get the snare. We need to give up hoping for the good carrots and grow our own. Stop striving for an American dream that doesn't exist and resisting the world of which we are a part. It's time to wake up and escape the deathtrap that is our delusion.

I wish I still had my copy of Watership Down. The copy I had fell apart, I read it so much. But I really wish I had a copy of Silverweed's poem at least. I think it pretty much sums up the underlying attitude of the American psyche, the knowledge that a disaster is pending combined with the refusal to give up the excess in order to survive and strive for a more meaningful life. I'm as guilty as any Shining Wire rabbit. I live in excess as much as any other American....well, maybe not as much. I'm still on dial up and I don't have an SUV....and my house isn't humongous like most American homes. And I don't go out to eat every other day. But I'm still living in excess compared to others out in the world. It shames me and scares me for myself and my family. So I talk about it here, but do nothing about it otherwise. Guess that makes me Silverweed.
tinhuviel: (Alpaca Battle Cry)
The Crazy Aunt pressured me with great stalker-like zeal to read The Celestine Prophecy in 1995. It was in this year I was coming to the realisation that a New Age Fluffy Bunny outlook wasn't as spiritually fulfilling as I perhaps had hoped it would be. While newcomers to the Trad were flitting about like airheads on crack, I was coming to grips with the fact that there was a darkness in me that demanded acknowledgment, even investigation and embrace. I was reading Dreaming the Dark and the book that would come to be one of most important volumes in my life, Mysteries of the Dark Moon at the time Crazy Aunt approached me with the groundbreaking novel that would alter the world's spiritual perceptions! This was actually the first indication to me that Crazy Aunt was indeed fucking crazy. She later proved my suspicions of her mental state a short few years later. What a loon that woman is..... But I digress.

The Celestine Prophecy!

I read it. And it was the Last Straw. Something within me just popped and I took my first steps away from the New Age Lie. I'm certain I'm not the only person The Celestine Prophecy drove to the Dark Side. The crap writing alone should be enough to inspire lemming-like suicides amongst the literate population. Now, I'm all for thought-driven manifestation. In fact, I am one of the few Pagans who believe in the existence of Satan. I believe that Satan manifested after centuries of keen focus by millions of fearful Christians who gave more power to the concept of Hell than they ever did the promise of Heaven. But the idea James Redfield is promoting, that faith-driven "Insights" can serve to manifest a better world, a virtual utopia......I'm sorry. It's not gonna fucking happen unless the Human Race is radically altered on every level.

We've been sent prophets, teachers, gurus, even saviours according to some belief systems, but we continue to get it wrong. Instead of embracing a thought form that would help manifest a kingdom of heaven, we consistently embrace the fear of ourselves, renouncing the dark and thus giving it power over us. We manifest our monsters and render ourselves powerless to effectively fight them. In my humble opinion, the Human Race is incapable of achieving the lofty ideals portrayed in The Celestine Prophecy. Instead of using our so-called mind power to make vegetables grow in Peru, we are working quite diligently to try to make manifest every horrifying Endtimes prophecy known to the Collective Consciousness. The rough beast slouching toward Bethlehem is us.

So, if there were a Celebrity Deathmatch between The Alpaca Lips and The Celestine Prophecy, I'd put my money on the Alpaca Lips and scamper off to my bunker with my ill-gotten gains 'cos, honey, that New Age Fluffy Bunny bullshit ain't gonna get anyone anywhere but crushed under the jackboot of reality. Perhaps I'm sharpening the big teeth of the monster that will be our undoing because of my beliefs, but I can't fathom Humanity, in our current evolutionary rut, overcoming our baser nature and achieving even a remote fragment of the Celestine fantasy.

Yick...

Nov. 27th, 2005 04:02 pm
tinhuviel: (Asthma Hound Chihuahua)
I have some sort of stomach flu. It started last night and has been horrid today. I haven't eaten a bite all day, yet I'm still dry-heaving. It's bloody unpleasant, I say!

I'm taking the day off from writing today, if I continue to feel like this. My thoughts aren't the best-directed today. I've already met the 50k quota and the rest is gravy. I'm adding Beautiful Pets as an introductory chapter for Cadmus. This should make [livejournal.com profile] falkenna very happy. I was thinking about adding The Embrace of Cadmus as well, but I've pretty much decided against that. It's a stand-alone story that wouldn't fit in with the rest of The Chalice.


A few days ago I got The Stand on DVD. The Stand was the second book by Stephen King that I'd ever read. The first one was The Shining. I've read tons of Stephen King, but The Stand remains my favourite book to this day. I think it's because this is Stephen King's version of the Alpaca Lips and I have a weakness for Alpaca Liptic stories.

Anyway, I read The Stand in 1980 during my two week stay in West Virginia. I was enthralled from start to finish, and was particularly intrigued with the character of Nadine Cross. For some reason, I always felt a kinship to her. I could easily see myself being promised to some infernal entity who would turn my hair white overnight. The most disturbing part of the film adaptation is Laura San Giacomo's performance as Nadine, especially when she's brought out of the desert by Randall Flagg. "We are dead and this...is...HELL..."

And then there's Randall Flagg. I was totally in love with him when I read the book. The cover of the paperback I had proudly displayed his dark visage and I was fascinated with him.



Come to think of it, he looks an awful lot like Darth Maul on this cover. Hm. I remember losing myself completely in those intense cat eyes and marvelling at the power he wielded in the story. Maybe that's why I related to Nadine so well. Maybe I'm damned.

I like Jamey Sheridan, but I have never been able to reconcile with his being cast as Randall. That's just me, though. I guess Stephen King was pleased with Mr. Sheridan since he had a lot to do with the filming of his own book. No one knows a person's characters better than the person who created them. So I accept it, but the Randall I see in my mind's eye looks more like the book cover and nothing like Jamey Sheridan.

As for The Stand and The Stand, I find myself hoping that the Avian Flu will be like Captain Trips. We seriously need to have our arses whupped by something so small we can't even see it. It would be a horrible thing to happen to humanity but, given our behaviour over the past few centuries, we more than deserve it.


I'm currently sipping a Welch's sparkling grape soda to try to get my stomach to settle. This is the best damned grape soda I have ever had the pleasure of splashing on my happy little tongue. There is a party going on in my mouth right now. The stomach is still squealing and gurgling though, so I'm taking it slow.


I got a picture of Motley not long ago. Her eyes don't usually glow like this, but I think I have a cursed camera. She's quite affectionate and very sweet, but she's also very sick. It looks like her anus is prolapsed, which isn't a serious thing with kittens or puppies. You just poke their buttholes back in and they're fine. But the cause of this I think is a little more serious. She has some serious gastric issues and she's also chugged up like Smidgen and Shmoop were when we rescued them.

manx bebbeh )


I just heard from Todd. He's safely back in Portland and texted to let me know. He'll be calling later on this evening. If the chance ever arises, I'm going out there to visit with him. It'll just be him and me, no family or any outside influence. We'll watch Pink Floyd's The Wall and cast a circle to share some peace in sacred space. Someday.
tinhuviel: (Magic)
And you know who you are.

[livejournal.com profile] clumsycake sent me a list of little-known "facts" about the world of Harry Potter. This is one of them:

Lily Potter's maiden name was Evans.


Rawk!
tinhuviel: (glasses)
Ealdthryth turned me onto this list of of books. Here's the link ~ Censorship, anyone?
and here's a list of the books I've read:

Subversive Hellions like me read these devil books )

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