Sara Jayne Townsend's Blog, page 56

Buffy Vs Edward

(Cross posted from WriteClub blog)

I'm going back to Buffy for this week's post. It must be no secret by now, even to those new to this blog, that I'm a sad geeky Buffy fan.

Non-geeks, however, sometimes make the mistake of assuming if I like Buffy, I also like Twilight. After all, they're both about teenage girls who fall in love with sexy vampires, aren't they?

To a Buffy geek, this is a sacrilege. I could go on at length about why Buffy is miles away from Twilight, without even touching the quality of the writing.

Buffy is an independent minded young woman who kicks vampire butt. One of the main themes of at least the first few seasons is that she's not only the Chosen One, she's also an ordinary teenage girl dealing with the demons of High School. For most people, the demons of High School are metaphorical. Hers happen to be literal.

Yes, Buffy loves a vampire. But in the end she realises that the relationship is going nowhere and she has to leave him (and I am talking about Angel here – I never really believed Buffy was in love with Spike, but we'll leave that argument for another time). On the other hand, I believe Bella ends up marrying her vampire, even though a human/vampire relationship is problematic at best (and I've discussed that on this blog before).

But really, I think the best argument for proving why Buffy is better than Twilight can be found in the wonderful YouTube video 'Buffy vs Edward'.

I present Exhibit A.

Musings on Zombies

"The Walking Dead" has been serialised on British TV since early November (no doubt it was ages ago in America – we're a bit behind on our US TV shows), but we've been recording it, and only got the opportunity to watch the first episode recently.

And I have to say I am enjoying it. I do like a good old-fashioned zombie bash. "The Walking Dead" is particularly good as a zombie movie. It has well-drawn, sympathetic characters, good production, exceptional attention to detail with regard to set dressing, and most importantly, it conforms to the expectations of zombie fans. The zombies move slowly, they don't speak, they have generous amounts of rotting flesh falling off bones, thus reminding us that zombies are, literally, walking corpses (kudos to the special effects in this regard), and they can be taken out by a bullet to the brain.

When you are an imaginative geek, you do find yourself wondering, every once in a while, what would happen if the world really was gripped by a plague that turned people in flesh-eating zombies. It's rather like time travel – intellectually you know it's not possible but you wonder nonetheless. At times like these, I reassure myself that all those hours wasted playing "Resident Evil 4″ are actually hours well spent after all. If a zombie attack happened for real, at least I would have a fighting chance of knowing how to defeat them…

In the meantime, though, I look forward to the next episode of "The Walking Dead". The series has started well, and I hope it continues in the same vein. But if you've already seen it – no spoilers, please!

What Next?

WIP update:

Life is hazardous for my amateur sleuth, in the case of the defenestrated rock star (hmm, another potential title?). First there is the question of, did he fall, or was he pushed?

Well, obviously he was pushed – it's a murder mystery. But who pushed him? My intrepid sleuth is trying to find out. The one witness to the incident, a doped-up groupie, is found dead before my sleuth gets to question her. An overdose, apparently. My sleuth thinks not. Two victims now, both with the same killer. My sleuth is on the case.

And what happens next? There, in a nutshell, is the problem. I need some small but majorly significant clue, something the police overlook but my sleuth realises is vital to solving the mystery. But I don't, at this stage, know what that clue is or how my sleuth is going to come across it.

So what does happen next? What key thing does my intrepid sleuth discover that's going to set her on the path to solving the mystery.

Honestly, I have no idea. Answers on a postcard please…

City Break 2010 – Berlin

Berlin is a fascinating mix of new and old. Most of the city is less than sixty years old, having been almost completely flattened during the second world war (er, that would be down to us, then). Much of it has a new, modern feel – all glass-fronted shopping centres and modern architecture and carefully landscaped gardens. Since the city was rebuilt after the war, its landscape has changed twice more – once in the 1960s when the Berlin Wall went up, and again at the end of the 1980s, when the Wall came down.

A line marking where the Wall stood is marked out through the middle of the city. Its path is bizarrely abrupt, bisecting roads and housing estates. During our three day visit to this cosmopolitan European city, we strolled freely over the line many times, aware of the fact that twenty-five years ago this would not have been possible.

Remains of Berlin Wall and former Third Reich HQ

Even if you don't notice when you step over the line, it's hard to miss the Eastern Bloc architecture – all dreary and functional concrete blocks. The city is still in the process of tearing down the East Berlin legacy – road works and scaffolding are everywhere. Berlin's ambitious rebuild plans means it is changing very quickly. Certain sections of the Wall still remain, the longest being right next to the building that used to be the Third Reich headquarters. There are no guards there anymore, nor any Nazi flags, but the building still looks intimidating, as no doubt it was designed to be

The section where Checkpoint Charlie was is a little disappointing. In its spot, a series of posters telling the story of the Berlin Wall – the events that led to its erection, and ultimately its destruction – are on display. The sign declaring that one is entering the West remains, but, ironically, the first building that sits on the East side of it now is that great symbol of American capitalism, McDonalds.

All over Berlin, souvenir shops sell little pieces of the Wall sealed in boxes. Somehow I doubt their authenticity. I know the Wall was long, but the rubble has sold by the bucketload for over twenty years now.

The old buildings that house Berlin's museums still stand, on what used to be the East side of Berlin. The impressive Greek-style pillars that support them are all riddled with bullet holes, the building facades sporting huge holes where shells and bombs have torn away the concrete and the marble. One can't help but think about the fact that all of these antiquities – including the Processional Street of Babylon and the famous bust of Nefertiti – were lost to West Germans for the twenty years they were hidden behind the Wall.

Me on bullet-scarred bench in the former East Berlin

My husband has a fascination for anything to do with Hitler or World War II, a fascination I confess I do not share. When we walked around the Deutsches Technikmuseum, which is full of planes, trains and boats, he was enthusiastically taking photographs of what I thought were just mangled aeroplanes. Turns out that these mangled wrecks were rare WWII fighters, the remains salvaged because no other examples of these planes remain. I had run out of stamina by the time we visited this museum – we'd walked all over Berlin by that point, and all I wanted to do was find a cafe somewhere and sit down with a nice cup of tea. So I wasn't quite as enthusiastic about viewing wrecked bombers as he was.

Me with Berlin's panda

We also took a wander through Berlin zoo, which is expansive and has many animals, including a panda and a rather famous polar bear. Apparently during the War, the zoo was hit by bombs and a lot of the animals escaped. I can't imagine how much havoc terrified lions wandering free around Berlin must have caused in a city already mired in chaos and confusion.

The people of Berlin are friendly and cosmopolitan, welcoming all these visitors that come to their city. A few years ago, it seemed they were uncomfortable with their history. Now they seem to have accepted it as the past. What's done is done – they are looking to the future.

Me at the spot where the Nazi book burning occurred in 1933

As we travel around the world, it's always interesting to me to note the mind set of people of a certain country. There are always national characteristics. In Germany, it is efficiency and adherence to rules. You don't find any native Berliner crossing the road on a red light. Oh, no. They stand and wait for the green man to appear, regardless of whether or not there is traffic. This foxed me the first few times – as a Londoner I am used to dashing across the road when there's a gap in traffic. This gets you some rather furious scowls in Berlin.

If you've read my other travel blogs you will know I have a thing about toilets. Public toilets in Berlin are a joy – clean; functional; always stocked with toilet paper; always locking doors on the cubicles. After our recent forays through Africa and Asia, it was a pleasure to use German toilets.

We were in Berlin only three days in the middle of October. We packed a great deal in to those three days. It's not a city to go for a sunshine break – it was decidedly chilly when we were there – but it's a city that blends the old and new, rich in history, and the role it played in shaping the 20th century world cannot be ignored.

Gender Assumptions

Yesterday I was on a train on the Victoria Line, on my way to an early-morning writing session at Starbucks. It was the second day in a row I'd crawled out of bed at 5:45am to get some writing in, and I do tend to be rather grumpy that early in the morning.

There was an advertising poster on my tube carriage that I found rather irritating. It was an advert for an online store. The gist of the advert was that this particular place was a one-stop shop for your Christmas shopping. "Gifts for her", the advert said. Underneath this was a picture of a make-up set. "Gifts for him," it went on. This featured a picture of a PS3 game.

Now, I do try to keep politics out of this blog, but it does annoy me when people make assumptions based on gender stereotypes. And this time of year, coming up to the dreaded Festive Season, we are bombarded by ads making the presumption that men sit around watching football, drinking beer and playing computer games, while women are preoccupied with shoes and handbags and clothes.

Me, I'd rather have the computer game than the make-up set. But anyone who doesn't know me well enough to be aware of this isn't likely to be buying me presents.

Coveting Neil Gaiman's Library

(Cross-posted from the WriteClub blog)

I am very, very far away from earning enough money writing to give up the day job. Indeed, I may never actually get to that stage.

But this doesn't stop me occasionally fantasising about what I would buy if I not only got to the stage where I could earn a living on my earnings as a writer, but live very well off my earnings as a writer.

Picture credit: www.shelfari.com

The first thing I'd do is buy myself a house that was big enough for me to be able to set aside one room to be a dedicated library. A few years ago I came across this picture of Neil Gaiman's library. Ever since then, I've coveted Mr Gaiman's library.

Just thinking about it gets me all excited. Imagine – a room stuffed full of books, floor to ceiling. All my books in one place. All ordered by subject, genre or author. Probably even catalogued. There'd be a nice comy sofa or two for a reading corner. And it's all mine.

We live in a three-bedroomed house that is already overflowing with books – hence, one of the appeals of e-books is the fact they take up no space. There are books in pretty much every room of our house. And boxes and boxes of them in the attic, where we've already had to stash the ones there's no room for but we can't bear to get rid of.

So, I dream of my own personal library. Much like Mr Gaiman's. If I had this library, though, I would have to set up my writing station elsewhere in the house, where there aren't any books. I wouldn't get a lot of writing done in the library; I'd get distracted by all the pretty books.

Fat Cats & Vaccinations

Yesterday I had a day off to do those things I don't get time to do when I am at work all day.

First errand of the day was to go to the doctor's surgery to get my annual flu vaccination. This is offered to me free of charge every year because having asthma puts me in a 'high risk' category. I normally get a letter in early October asking me to make an appointment at the flu clinic. I hadn't had a letter so I rang the surgery, asking if flu jabs were available yet.

"We've sent out the letter", the reception told me. I explained that I hadn't had a letter. "Do you normally get a flu jab?" she asked. I replied that I did, suppressing the urge to add that I wouldn't be phoning otherwise.

"Then you'll get a letter," the receptionist went on.

"I haven't had a letter," I explained again. "Can I just make an appointment now?"

She took my name and went off to check my records and some time later came back and said, "you have asthma. That means you can get the flu jab." I think my doctor ought to start offering a higher salary when he advertises receptionist jobs.

But I did get my appointment, and when I turned up to see the nurse, she also offered me a vaccination against pneumonia. In the other arm.

I had also arranged an appointment to take my cats off to have their annual boosters later that day. My cats are big, fat, lazy things, as I've mentioned before. And they now know what the cat carrier means. They will let me pick them up without objection, but when I try to put them in the carrier, they do the old – 'rigid paws clutching either side of opening' trick.

With both cats eventually locked in the carrier, I heaved said carrier out to the car. And I do mean 'heaved'. I've always put both cats in one carrier – I figure it's less traumatic for them that way. But they are now far too heavy for this. I think I'm going to have to invest in another carrier, and carry one in each hand. It might actually balance me out a bit and be easier to carry.

The vet's surgery isn't far away, but parking anywhere near the surgery is always hit-and-miss. Yesterday it was a 'miss'. In fact the traffic was a bit of a nightmare. I had to park around the block, meaning I had to lug the carrier quite a long way before arriving at the vet's surgery.

Once the carrier is deposited on the vet's table, getting the cats out of it so the vet can look at them is another ordeal. Before now I've resorted to tipping the thing upside down and waiting for one or both cats to fall out.

"Your cats are adorable, but they are both far too fat," the young vet said cheerfully. She was lovely, but she looked about sixteen.

I explained that with my cats being half pedigree, and getting old, they aren't too interested these days in doing much apart from lying about sleeping. Not that I blame them for that. I quite fancy that sort of life myself. But I do have to acknowledge the fact I have two fat cats. The vet suggested I merely give them less food. Not being very active, they don't need to eat much. Of course, I'm not sure I can explain this to them.

In spite of their protests, the cats are not remotely traumatised by their vaccinations. I, on the other hand, have two extremely stiff arms, where each needle went in and pierced muscle that was probably already tense, because I hate needles. I suspect the strain on the arm muscles of having to lug two overweight cats half a mile down the road right after the piercing trauma did not help this situation.

I think the lesson learned in this little adventure is not to arrange a trip to the vets after I've had my own vaccinations. It's going to be another couple of days before I can move my arms again.

Geeks Who Play Together, Stay Together

My husband and I are, this year, celebrating twenty years of being together. As I was twenty when I met him, it means that after this year I will have spent more of my life with him than without him. Quite a thought.

We met over the gaming table, playing Dungeons & Dragons. This is a hobby that still plays a big part in our lives. Our dining room is more often used for gaming than dining. The book shelves are full of modules and rules systems for various RPG games. At least once a month, various people come and sit around the table with character sheets, multi-sided dice, and snacks. Oh yes. The snacks are important. There is something about playing D&D that makes one want to consume vast quantities of junk food. This is probably the reason why there aren't too many svelte gaming geeks around.

For those of you for whom this is an unfamiliar world, check out the film "Dorkness Rising". This independent feature-length film is a highly entertaining and spookily accurate insight into the geeky world of table top role-playing. And it demonstrates very clearly that it's not just for nerdy boys anymore.

Here's the trailer:

Death By Defenestration

(Cross-posted from the WriteClub blog)

A quick update on the WIP…

Actually, I have two works in progress. The first one is the urban fantasy, which to be honest is going nowhere until I figure out how I can make the plot make sense.

The second one is Book 2 of the amateur sleuth series. This is moving along nicely, but I am in the early stages of Draft 1, so there's a long way to go yet.

I'm currently about 10,000 words in and I've been setting the scene and introducing characters. In fact, I've only just killed the victim. I threw him out of a window. Mwah ha ha.

Rather disturbingly, I enjoy killing people off in novels. I am a recent arrival to the crime writing scene, but I do rather enjoy it. Death features prominently in all of my writing, but the main difference between the crime novels and everything else I write is that there are no supernatural elements in the crime novels.

"Death By Defenestration" is NOT the title of this novel. But I figure it's the title for something. I rather like this. I need to find a way of using it for something other than the title of today's post!

Feline Distractions

My two elderly cats are half-pedigree (Mother was a chocolate point British shorthair who got out for a bit of action with the mongrel toms one night), and age and breeding makes them inclined to remarkable laziness – even for cats. The only time they get any exercise is when they move from one favourite sleeping spot to another.

Misty – the British Blue – has a fixation with boxes. Misha, the black cat, isn't quite so bothered.

The other day, however, they both decided that Hubby's guitar case was a fine place to sleep, and they spent several hours there. We thought it was very cute, and we took a picture.



My cats eat too much, throw up all over the place, scratch the leather sofa and sit on the top of the stairs, in the dark, making one inclined to go flying. But then they do things like this and I remember why I have them. Aww.