David M. Brown's Blog, page 112

Happy World Cat Day 2011

Reblogged from 'A Slightly R-Rated Dog Blog'

Game Review #30: Tales of Monkey Island

In 2009 I began working with Mrs B on her website www.femalegamers.co.uk reviewing the latest console games. Sadly, our other commitments meant the website couldn't continue and we brought it to an end early in 2010. I'll be using this blog to review all the games, recent and not so recent, that I encounter. With Mrs B's kind permission, I'll also be posting some of the reviews I previously worked on, so don't panic if they refer to previous years and months.

Tales of Monkey Island (2009)

Prior to the Playstation and discovering the Final Fantasy games, the first two instalments in the Monkey Island series were my favourite games so naturally I was enthusiastic about a fifth instalment Tales of Monkey Island. This latest released promised five chapters worth of Guybrush Threepwood and LeChuck but although the overall package is referred to as "Tales" the chapters all comprise of mini stories that make up one long narrative.

Chapter 1: Launch of the Screaming Narwhal begins with Guybrush trying to defeat LeChuck once and for all with the Cutlass of Kaflu but our bumbling hero only makes a mess of preparing the sword and when he stabs LeChuck the evil pirate is turned human while Guybrush's hand is infected with pox, which is soon spread throughout the Caribbean. Guybrush ends up stranded on Flotsam Island and must find a way off it to begin stopping the disease.

Chapter 2: The Siege of Spinner Cay sees Guybrush reach the Jerkbait Islands in search of information about a voodoo sponge that can absorb the pox – La Esponja Grande. Guybrush is reunited with his wife Elaine and the human LeChuck who is now a polite gentleman wanting to make up for his past sins. The trio have to contend with a struggle between the resident merfolk at Spinner Cay and the violent pirates who have been infected by the pox.

Chapter 3: Lair of the Leviathan sees Guybrush and pirate hunter Morgan LeFlay swallowed at sea by a giant manatee. They're not alone in the manatee's stomach and Guybrush must use all his resources to find a way out of this latest predicament which involves using the surrounding digestive system to great effect.

Chapter 4: The Trial and Execution of Guybrush Threepwood sees our hero being tried on Flotsam Island for various crimes and opting to defend himself in a court of law. The acting prosecution is Monkey Island regular Stan who takes advantage of the adjournments to sell merchandise linked to the trial of the century. Old habits die hard it seems! Thanks to a nifty loophole and the rather stupid prison guard, Guybrush is able to continually leave his cell by insisting he's the lawyer for Guybrush Threepwood!

Chapter 5: Rise of the Pirate God sees Guybrush emerging in the afterlife after being killed and having to use some very cunning tactics to return to the world of the living both as a ghost and zombie to rescue Elaine and to defeat LeChuck in what proves to be an epic final tussle.

Although Tales of Monkey Island is split into five chapters, each one is of considerable length and you'll unlikely be disappointed with any of them. Guybrush is at his humorous best, having the ability to carry a whole manner of objects in his jacket and managing to annoy the locals, especially on Flotsam Island. Monkey Island regulars LeChuck, Elaine, the Voodoo Lady, Murray the talking skull, and the salesman Stan all make welcome returns and we have many new characters that fit in nicely with those we've been used to for many years. Morgan LeFlay is the principal new character being a pirate hunter and one of Guybrush's biggest fans even though her latest assignment is to hunt him down. You first cross paths with Morgan in Chapter 2 and she plays a key part in Guybrush's adventures from then on.

The inventory system is pretty much unchanged from the other games though there is a nice feature for combining items where you have to move individual items to two empty slots then hit the + symbol between them to combine. It's a nice addition but other than that there shouldn't be anything too different that you won't feel at home with from the start. The humour is still fantastic and allows you to choose some of Guybrush's responses, some sensible, others just pure ludicrous (in other words the best ones). Our hapless hero continues to be a very perceptive pirate and gets to try his hand at some insult sword fighting (a trademark of the first game) and even a contest that involves pulling some rather freaky expressions. It's all in a day's work for Guybrush Threepwood.

Tales of Monkey Island looks visually impressive with each chapter boasting some fantastic set pieces and a rich array of amusing and eccentric buccaneering seafarers in the Caribbean. LeChuck is at his evil best but when he's turned into a human and is all nice and polite the game is just fantastic. Guybrush, initially wary of a pirate that has tried to kill him many times, suddenly finds himself enjoying LeChuck's company and the two of them even work together in solving the odd puzzle. Elaine, Guybrush's resourceful wife, continues to have more backbone than her husband but the love between them continues to blossom despite Guybrush spending a lot of time with Morgan LeFlay whose admiration for her hero doesn't stop her betraying him before later regretting it and trying to make amends. All five chapters are good but Guybrush's trial where he acts as lawyer for himself and questions himself in court has to be the best.

Tales of Monkey Island is the perfect evidence that there is plenty of life left in Guybrush Threepwood and fans are still eager to follow him on his adventures throughout the Caribbean. It's now more than twenty years since he washed up on Melee Island and declared "I want to be a pirate" and with any luck we'll still be looking back fondly on the Monkey Island series when the first instalment reaches its 30th anniversary.

Overall Verdict: 85%

Chapter 1: Launch of the Screaming Narwhal: 83%

Chapter 2: The Siege of Spinner Cay: 84%

Chapter 3: Lair of the Leviathan: 82%

Chapter 4: The Trial and Execution of Guybrush Threepwood: 88%

Chapter 5: Rise of the Pirate God: 87%

Fine Feline: Then and Now

Last Saturday I talked about two of the treasures in my life, cats Bilbo and Frodo.  Today I've received a couple of 'before' pictures of Bilbo that I have to share.  These were taken when Bilbo was first taken in by Rain Rescue Cats.

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Bilbo when he was first taken in

 

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He was affectionately known as ET

 

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Bilbo: Now with a full coat

 

Thanks to the amazing work of the Rain Rescue Cats for taking in our beautiful boy when he needed it most and for letting us adopt this adorable cat and his equally lovely brother!

Film Review #84: The Crazies

With prices for cinema tickets now reaching ridiculous heights it's not often I will treat myself to a new release unless it's something I simply cannot wait for. Instead, I'm happy to content myself with a cheap DVD or a film on TV which may have slipped through my critical net and, believe me, there have been far too many. Whether the films featured here are recent or old I'll still be providing my honest opinion on them and, with the benefit of hindsight in many cases, may offer a slightly different take to contemporary reviewers.

 

The Crazies (2010)

A common theme in recent horror films is the locals of a small town or village turning into zombies as a result of a virus. Breck Eisner's The Crazies, a remake of George Romero's 1973 film, addresses a similar issue when a peaceful town descends into chaos as the result of an unknown virus that turns people into the murderous crazies of the title. With so many horror films following this formula does The Crazies have anything unique to offer?

The film begins in the town of Ogden Marsh in Iowa. We witness the town in flames before the story switches back two days to explain how the destruction began. Sinisterly we see satellite footage of the town and the words "initiate containment protocol" appear early in the film. Things begin normally at a baseball game but local sheriff David (Timothy Olyphant) and his deputy Russell (Joe Anderson) confront local resident Rory Hamill (Mike Hickman) who walks onto the field armed with a gun. When David moves in close he finds Rory unresponsive and when he raises his gun the sheriff has no choice but to kill Rory. This becomes the first of some bizarre incidents in the town and culminates in the discovery of a crashed plane in the nearby swampland. All too soon the military descend on the town, checking the temperature of all the locals and separating those with high temperatures as infected by an unknown virus. When David is separated from his wife Judy (Radha Mitchell) he must find a way to rescue her and escape the town where the infected locals and the military have no hesitation in murdering anyone in their way.

The opening reels of The Crazies are very intriguing with the shooting at the baseball game followed by a local farmer trapping his wife and child and burning their property to the ground. When the emergency services arrive he is outside and seemingly doesn't have a care in the world. The satellite view of the town and the military's sudden appearance cannot disguise who is responsible for the outbreak of the virus and that it is linked to the crashed plane that is found at the start of the film. When the army arrives they separate the locals with Judy told she is infected because of a high temperature though she insists this is down to her being pregnant. David is powerless to stop her being taken away but when the locals are fenced off and told to await evacuation they find salvation in another local who drives through the perimeter and signals everyone to flee for their lives. David hooks up with his deputy Russell and they rescue Judy and another girl Becca (Danielle Panabaker) who have been strapped to beds in another part of the military facility. The quartet then begins their long journey away from the town and to safety.

The Crazies certainly has some chilling moments, especially when more of the locals become infected. In one uncomfortable scene Judy, Becca and other locals who are presumed infected lie defenceless, strapped to their beds while carnage erupts outside as the perimeter fences are breached and the townspeople begin to escape. Suddenly a man enters the facility scraping a pitchfork along the ground and approaching those strapped to the beds. When they begin to weep he raises his pitchfork and proceeds to stab the locals in their beds! When the infected man is about to kill Becca, Judy cries out and he turns his attention to her! A further twist in the film comes in the form of David's deputy Russell who shows many susceptibilities to violence when the group make their escape from town and it is quite clear that he is infected as well.

When I first saw the trailer for The Crazies I was drawn to it and believed it would be one of the better horror films of recent years. By the end I had enjoyed it but not as much as I had hoped I would. It's hard to say clearly what irked me about the film. It starts really well, building up the tension as the virus spreads and the military comes charging in but in the latter stages it becomes very predictable. We learn during the film that the virus infects only certain people and if you have no symptoms after 48 hours then you're fine. With Judy being pregnant it's pretty obvious that she'll get through it and go on to have a child that will signal a new start. The deterioration of Russell as the virus takes hold could have been a lot better. His changing mood and increasing threats were good but once he realises what he's becoming the film descends into melodrama which doesn't work considering the farmer that killed his wife and child without a care in the world. The good thing is the film has one of those endings that will make you smile and could leave this open for a sequel.

The Crazies is one of the better horror films of recent years though it does carry some flaws. There are some great scenes with the infected locals lashing out at friends and family without hesitation and the entrance of the military and their approach to dealing with the crisis are sinister and chilling moments indeed. This isn't as good as I had hoped but is still worth a look.

Verdict: 7½/10

Book Review #14: The Riddle and the Knight: In Search of John Mandeville

As an aspiring author I try to write as often as possible but always remember to have a book on the bedside table. I read for many reasons, mostly the sheer joy of the pastime, but I am constantly trying to improve myself as a writer, finding worthwhile lessons in my successful peers, whether they're currently enjoying life in the bestsellers list or they have long since written their final words. As I continue my own writing journey (hopefully towards publication!) I'll be sharing my thoughts on all my latest reads and maybe reveal who I find the most inspiring along the way.

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Giles Milton – The Riddle and the Knight: In Search of John Mandeville (1996)

There's nothing like a good historical mystery to get your teeth into and Giles Milton's The Riddle and the Knight promised such a puzzle. Focussing on a famous historical figure from the 14th century, Milton's narrative traces the same journey that John Mandeville made and looks to analyse whether anything in his famous Travels is authentic or just fabrication. I couldn't wait to dip into the mystery so donned my Medieval attire and headed back to the first half of the 14th century.

Sir John Mandeville's Travels appeared in the second half of the 14th century and was a series of observations that Mandeville made on an epic journey. Setting out from St Albans, England, in 1322 Mandeville claimed to have travelled through the likes of Persia, Egypt, Cyprus, Jerusalem, India and China, and recorded much of the places and peoples he met along the way. At the time Mandeville's book was believed to be true and he was hailed as the father of English literature, ahead of the current father, Chaucer. Famous explorers such as Columbus and playwrights like Shakespeare were inspired by the Travels but by the Victorian period it was Chaucer who was looked back on with admiration. Mandeville had become a victim of historians and scholars who digested his book and began to reason that everything within its pages was fiction and should be dismissed. Milton's book looks not only at the authenticity of Mandeville's journey but also addresses a riddle in the text that has never been deciphered.

The outline to the book fascinated me and I was eager to dip in straight away. Although Mandeville visits libraries and looks through archives, the bulk of his research is in visiting the same places that Mandeville did and comparing the observations in The Travels to other chroniclers of the time and indeed knowledge of the locals. Milton's journey sees him visit Constantinople, Cyprus, Syria, Jerusalem and China but frustratingly the locals have little to offer about Mandeville. As Milton's journey progresses doubts begin to creep in about the plausibility of Mandeville's work. There is no denying that he lifted passages in the Travels from other contemporaries but just when we start to think Milton is in the footsteps of a liar, there are moments in the Travels that no other writer has covered prior to Mandeville. In Cyprus Mandeville does not dwell on the Lusignan wealth, whereas other writers had a lot to say, but Mandeville does refer to eating habits which are accurate. It's almost as if Mandeville is toying with us and Milton, making us believe his work is fiction only to throw in the smallest detail that makes it plausible as no other accounts at the time can match it.

Milton's initial difficulty is separating the John Mandevilles of the 14th century for although the one in the Travels is supposed to have been from St Albans, Mandeville has been associated with John de Bourgogne, which Milton analyses and dismisses. Focusing on England there exists the remnants of an inscription at St Albans for Mandeville and as Milton investigates further he discovers that the Mandeville's overlord, Humphrey de Bohun, rebelled against Edward II which put the Mandeville family in jeopardy. It was the perfect time and excuse for Mandeville to leave England and begin his thirty-five year journey and the dates seem to fit this turn of events. That identity dilemma aside, Milton is able to trace Mandeville's journey in its entirety.

What becomes clear is that certainly the first half of Mandeville's journey is plausible. There are enough small and unique details in his work to suggest he visited many of the locations. He filled in many of the large blanks via plagiarism but he wasn't the only one to use such tactics. The second half of the Travels which deals with Mandeville's journey into Asia is undoubtedly a work of fiction. This isn't better demonstrated than Mandeville's account of reaching India where he spent a lot of time in the palaces of the ruler, Prester John. Although Mandeville describes his time in India with great detail, Milton hits us with one crushing point – Prester John was a work of fiction, yet Mandeville insisted they had met. Accounts of the rest of Asia speak of fantastical creatures, accepted as gospel at this time but through the eyes of contemporaries today it is clear these were fabrications.

The weakness in Milton's The Riddle and the Knight is the riddle itself. Although the synopsis refers the Travels being something of a puzzle this is only touched upon very briefly at the end. Interesting as it may be it feels like a long wait. Although Milton's own adventures are interesting we seem to spend more time with his Travels rather than having extracts divulged from Mandeville. The best does come at the end which is although Mandeville's work contains a lot of fiction, the man himself was very influential and spoke of the possibility of circumnavigating the globe. Columbus was inspired by Mandeville and although the Travels were not the only reason he set out for the East Indies in 1492, they did have a big impact on his life. For centuries Mandeville's work was a true account of our world and fascinated enough people to make them want to go further and have their own adventures. Though Chaucer is now the father of English literature, Mandeville deserves a lot of credit as well. Yes, much of the Travels is made up but works of fiction were largely non-existent at this time with Malory's Le Morte D'Arthur being one of the first printed books and that came in the following century! Though Milton doesn't share enough of Mandevile's work he does manage to make us fascinated to learn more.

The Riddle and the Knight is a good attempt at exploring the life of John Mandeville and although many of Milton's travels fail to shed light on the elusive Mandeville there are still some amazing revelations which give credibility to the Travels. There is little about the riddle of the book which is a shame but Milton rescues things quite well by arguing for Mandeville's significance in history. A purveyor of tall tales certainly, but an influential and important liar, and there are not many of those.

Verdict: 7½/10

Treasures in Your Life Blog Hop: The World According to… cats?

Today I'm taking part in the Treasures in Your Life Blog Hop, arranged by Blog-Licious.  Hopefully, if you're here you came from Catherine Stine's Idea City, the previous stop on the tour.  What's that?  You didn't!  Shame on you: check it out at once.  Sorry?  Oh, you did!  My mistake, come on in!

Though many of my posts are characterised by tales (or should that be tails?) of Razz, Kain, Buggles and Charlie, I cannot ignore the two cheeky chappies who joined our household earlier in the year.  Now that they have had more time to settle in, it seems only fair to give them a better introduction.

Mrs B noticed the plight of Bilbo and Frodo on an internet site in early February this year.  Clearly underweight and desperately in need of a loving home and a regular grooming, Frodo was beautiful but fiercely shy and Bilbo looked like a sphinx cat that had been rolled firstly in glue and then in cotton wool.  His coat had been so knotted that it had been necessary to clip all of it, leaving him looking painfully thin and nothing like his handsome brother.

Bilbo and Frodo: Not exactly identical twins!

Bilbo and Frodo are Norwegian Forests and this breed can grow to 8-10kg. They're a bit like Maine Coons in that respect and also in looks I suppose. These two were just 3.6kg and 3.7kg when they came to us.  The rescue shelter had been feeding them up but it takes time.  Six months on they are still at least 2-3kg short of where they need to be.

Over time Frodo has morphed into a chatty little man.  So much so that I've nicknamed him the Opera Singer.  He certainly lets it be known if he wants/needs something.  Although he still flinches a little at times if you reach to stroke him, he quickly rolls over and luxuriates in the attention.

Frodo often hid himself away at the fosterer's and here

Bilbo has shown a truly loyal and affectionate side.  If you pass by him and he's sitting on the cat tree, he'll reach out with his paw.  Let him onto the bed with you and he'll be in seventh heaven, curled up beside you.  Pick him up for a cuddle and he'll reach out to touch your face.  This affectionate nature isn't much of a change: he's always been a soppy one.  The real change is his appearance.  He is now simply stunning.  His coat has grown out and as it has done so it's developed rich colour: greys and browns and even a touch of auburn if I'm not mistaken.  In cat terms, a real heartbreaker!

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Bilbo: Near Mrs B as usual

After they had lived with us for a day I couldn't imagine life without them.  Now they've been here for six months, they're an integral part of the family, just as Razz, Kain, Buggles, Charlie, Mrs B and I are.  I hope that we've offered them plentiful love and, if not enough to offset the three years they were cruelly neglected, certainly enough to help them regain some trust.

NB. The rescue shelter was Rain Rescue Cats in South Yorkshire

The next stop in the Treasures in Your Life Blog Hop is Thrills, Chills, Laughs and Tears.  Ah ah ah!  We're watching you so exit via the link please and enjoy the rest of the Hop [image error]

Guest Post: LeAnna Shields

Today's guest post comes from LeAnna Shields, author of The Alestrion Chronicles: Slaves Redeemed. LeAnna has very kindly shared an extract from her latest book. Welcome to The World According to Dave LeAnna and many thanks for a great extract. The book sounds fantastic.

 

Aria's world is about to reach new heights. Rescued from slavery and returned to her home world, she'll learn what it means to have freedom and friends. Please enjoy this excerpt from The Alestrion Chronicles: Slaves Redeemed by LeAnna Shields. Found on Smashwords.com and Amazon.com (for e readers) and Barnesandnoble.com for paperback.

A rope was thrown down the cliff overhead and she heard Naric's voice say, "Tie the other end to the tree, Ray and keep it stable. I'll climb down and help her out." Looking up Aria saw a young man climb down the rope. She coughed as loose dirt and grit fell over her.

He landed a few steps away from her, "You must be, Aria."

Aria nodded, You must be, Naric. Ha ha.

He laughed, "I need to examine your leg."

Aria nodded her permission and braced herself for the pain. Naric gently manipulated her leg. Using a brace he carefully set the bone in much the same fashion as she had set her beloved Daren's broken wing. He placed a tiny device on the leg that was circular and small enough to fit in his palm. Dermahesive allowed the device to stay in place. She sighed with relief as the pain from her leg abated, What? Is that to keep me from running away or something?

Naric chuckled, confidence and openness shining in his vibrant green eye. The place where his other eye should have been was covered with a patch, "No, it's called a bio generator and it should help the pain and speed up the healing process from weeks or months to days or weeks."

Oh, that really worked fast. Thanks.

He smiled, "I should look at that shoulder too."

Aria nodded and again braced herself as Naric popped her dislocated shoulder back into place and again placed a bio generator on the injury. He then tied the rope around her midsection and shouted, "Ok, Ray! Haul us up!" He held onto the rope with a leather-gloved hand as he kept her from hitting any jagged rocks with his free hand. Aria looked up in time to see a grey claw-like hand reaching over the cliff. Naric smiled at her as he took the claw in his free hand and let it pull him up. Then she saw both Naric's hand and the same grey claw reach down and grab her uninjured arm.

Naric said, "Carefully now… that's it… you're almost to the top…" Carefully he pulled her up and let her rest her weight on him. He led her to the tree where Raychor was untying the rope and winding it into a neat coil.

Thank you. Aria said wearily as Naric propped her up against a tree.

"You're welcome." Naric replied, he looked at Raychor and said, "We need to get her either to the camp or back to my house."

Raychor looked up at the gathering storm clouds and heard the rumbles of thunder, "It's gonna storm and I wouldn't risk flying her to the village in that weather. I'll take her in the morning when the storm passes; we'll just take her to the camp for now."

Naric nodded, "Ok, Ray. Let's get her back to camp."

Aria backed away as the monstrous looking beast approached her.

Raychor stopped, "Are you afraid of me?"

No. Aria replied unconvincingly.

"Yes you are. It's ok, lots of people are. But I'm not going to hurt you."

Aria nodded, I believe you. She allowed Raychor to pick her up in his claws. The feeling of his strong arms holding her was the last sensation that Aria had before she slipped into unconsciousness.

Film Review #83: Long Weekend

With prices for cinema tickets now reaching ridiculous heights it's not often I will treat myself to a new release unless it's something I simply cannot wait for. Instead, I'm happy to content myself with a cheap DVD or a film on TV which may have slipped through my critical net and, believe me, there have been far too many. Whether the films featured here are recent or old I'll still be providing my honest opinion on them and, with the benefit of hindsight in many cases, may offer a slightly different take to contemporary reviewers.

 

Long Weekend (2008)

Mother Nature is the most powerful thing in the world, able to tear down our cities with earthquakes, tsunamis, mud slides and forest fires but whatever side of the global warming argument you stand on it's hard to deny that we're disrespectful of nature, building on it and driving many animals to extinction. Jamie Banks' Long Weekend, a remake of the 1978 horror film, takes a group of people with a disregard for their natural environment but find Mother Nature in a less than tolerant mood about their presence.

The main focus of the film is married couple Peter (James Caviezel) and Carla (Claudia Karvan) heading off camping for the weekend to Moondah Beach on the coast of Australia at the behest of Peter who has invested in some fancy camping equipment. Despite Carla's reservations about the trip and the fact the couple end up driving through a forest at night and have to stop till daybreak, the trip goes ahead but rather than enjoying themselves the couple constantly bicker in between walking their dog Cricket. Over the weekend the couple show no respect for the environment and suddenly find themselves facing the wrath of Mother Nature.

The first thing of note with this film is that the two leads are among the most awful characters you'll ever spend a film with. Though married they are constantly rowing and it's hard to sympathise with either of them. Peter tries to bring some romance to the weekend but Carla just isn't in the mood so he storms off and suggests she pleasure herself! A nasty way to speak to your wife but strangely enough Carla follows his advice! She spends the duration of the film complaining and when things start to go wrong she beseeches her husband to leave but Peter refuses every time. Even when Carla tries to compromise by suggesting an alternative holiday venue Peter grumbles about the extra distance they'd have to drive. Seems he can afford expensive camping equipment but not some extra petrol. Men, eh?

Nature's backlash at the couple is implausible to say the least. When the couple find an eagle's egg in their camp they are in the midst of a row and Carla very sensibly hurls the egg at the nearest tree. Peter is then later attacked and clawed by a vengeful eagle but manages to laugh after the incident. The only spooky moment, and it isn't that spooky, is when the couple find a carcass on the beach and later a dugong appears out of the water but when the couple check on it they find it's dead. Whenever they come back it has moved up the beach, a trail visible in the sand behind it. Peter is rather disturbed to wake up one morning and find the dugong by his side in the camp! The couple's dog barks a lot at the strange goings on and is obviously perceptive to the danger around them but it's such a pity Peter and Carla don't have the same intelligence as their canine companion. As the weekend draws to a close the couple try to escape and Peter discovers a nearby camp with the remnants of another disrespectful family. The question that remains is can the couple escape from nature and back to civilization?

Long Weekend is an appropriate title as you'll feel like it's been a lot longer than the film's hour and a half. Peter and Carla are both characters that will alienate their audience and when Mother Nature starts to strike at them you'll be very pleased. It's impossible to tiptoe round the natural environment without say snapping a twig between your feet or maybe spilling a drink on the grass but Peter and Carla's disregard for the environment is just plain ludicrous. The film's notable inclusion is the dog Cricket who is excellent throughout, barking like a dog does, and running like one too. The end credits suggest no animals were harmed during the making of the film but I do wonder if that's true of the poor dog who may not have shown physical scars from the film shoot but I suspect mental ones are prevalent today. This isn't a scary horror film, it's rather pointless and boring and only the last twenty minutes or so are worth watching as Mother Nature finally gets its act together and gives the audience the ending they will want after spending so long in the company of Peter and Carla.

Long Weekend is a weak horror film with an environmental message. Mother Nature has plenty of plausible ways to get revenge against mankind but the ones depicted here were just plain silly. The dog aside the acting is pretty weak and with such unlikable characters dominating proceedings you'll soon grow tired of this. The film is also known as Nature's Grave but I would have preferred the more appropriate title of The Longest Weekend (for the audience anyway).

Verdict: 2/10  

Cat Observations #11: Missing Objects

In 2009 Mrs B and I adopted two brothers, Razz and Kain, from the RSPCA. It was my first experience of cat ownership having grown up either with a dog or goldfish in the house, the latter in a tank, of course, and not just in some innocuous location like the sofa or kitchen table. Since Razz and Kain joined the family we have also adopted two kittens, Buggles and Charlie, and two Norwegian Forest cats, Bilbo and Frodo, so you could say it's quite full in our household now. Though Mrs B knew what to expect, having previously owned both dogs and cats, it has been a steep learning curve for me and my lessons are still not over. In this blog I want to share some of the weird and wonderful antics I have discovered in the feline world, which is much different to the kingdom of dogs where obedience is paramount. A cat's motto seems to be, "I do what I please, so deal with it, you moron."

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Charlie & Buggles discuss what to steal from Mrs B's bag!

Missing Objects

Being the owner of six cats you're going to encounter some ill-discipline and the odd moment of calamity and our house is no exception. Scratching furniture, trying to pilfer our meals, playing with pens and being off target using the litter trays are just some of the problems myself and Mrs B have to contend with. However, perhaps the worst form of bad behaviour comes in the form of missing objects.

You know that mystery about the Bermuda Triangle? You know the one, all those planes and ships going missing and prompting the theorists to suggest aliens, alternative universes and the uncompromising waters of the Sargasso Sea! Well, I'd like to suggest that cats might have something to do with it as well. Now, I'm not accusing our six cats of being responsible but given what they are capable of in this house it wouldn't surprise me. The Mary Celeste was probably their doing as well!

Picture the scene. A small table between two chairs in our living room where we rest our cups of tea or wine and also pile on objects such as keys, books, pens, disks and even an MP3 (more on that mistake later). When Mrs B and I are around you can guarantee that all objects will be accounted for but if we've let the room for any amount of time then something will have gone missing. Only today I found a print cartridge had moved from its place on top of the printer to the other side of the living room!

Mrs B's hair bands are very popular with the cats but at least we find those in the end. The worst crime these cats have committed is with MP3 players. I kid you not, I have lost not one but two of the damn things to these cats. They must be somewhere in the house, unless the cats are sneaking out and selling them on the black market, but that digression aside I have so far been unsuccessful in unearthing them. It's quite possible the cats are hoarding the missing items in some secret, subterranean chamber and building a time machine or something but where their operation is taking place I guess I'll never know.

Recently Mrs B and I have started to de-clutter in the house, selling on DVDs and stuff to free up more space so hopefully in the near future the cats will have far less targets to pilfer. On the other hand one of these days Mrs B and I will awake to find all our keys have been confiscated and there will be no escape from this house which is very much the cats' pad. All I can do is pray for their mercy. Let's hope this isn't my last blog about them!

Guest Blog: Autumn Rosen

Today's guest is Autumn Rosen who has taken time out of her busy schedule to share an extract from her novel, My Novel Affair. Welcome to The World According to Dave, Autumn, and many thanks for the novel extract. It sounds fantastic, especially the dwarf with the bazooka! I could use one of those at home when our six cats are running riot! I also love the book cover. My Novel Affair is available on Amazon and Smashwords so be sure to check it out. 

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First I would like to thank you, Mr. David Brown, for this opportunity.

I would like to promote my book, My Novel Affair.

My Novel Affair is about one author's big imagination and how she uses it to change her life. This little romantic comedy includes a bazooka wielding dwarf, a great white shark and love.

ONE

I Hate Casey Lattimer!

 

The note simply read:

Dear Casey Lattimer,

I'm going to kill you.

Sincerely,

Your Creator

Startled, Detective Lattimer dropped the note on her desk and looked around the mysteriously vacant office. Something was wrong, was she in one of her visions? She looked down at her watch; the second hand was still making its way around the dial. Time was moving forward, so this was not one of her visions. Hearing the elevator bell echo across the otherwise empty homicide floor, Casey stood up, her hand on her sidearm.

The doors opened. A woman stepped off, her gaze fixed on the New York City detective.

Lattimer mentally collected the physical traits of the stranger and set it to memory. The five-foot tall blond, had a pale complexion and did not seem to be much of a threat. She wore a tailored red business suit and her red lipstick painted a suspicious smile.

"Hello Casey."

"Who are you?" asked Lattimer nervously. The two of them being alone in the usually bustling office, set her on edge.

The woman stepped out of the elevator, her three-inch heels meeting the floor in audible clicks as she walked toward Casey. With a smirk, she spoke with clear, concise English, giving Lattimer no clue of her origin. "You may call me, 'Sick of You.'

Lattimer frowned, confused. The woman stopped in front of, her partner, Detective Lorenzo's desk.

"Do I know you?"

"No, why would you? I'm no one, just a writer with no real significance. They want you, not me."

The detective raised an eyebrow, confused. "Who wants me?"

The woman placed her hands on Lorenzo's desk and leaned forward, slyly smiling at Casey. "All your adoring fans, Detective Lattimer."

Casey crossed her arms, "I don't have fans, I'm a detective and I put away serial killers. Trust me, they don't like me."

"I know. And no matter how truly evil each and every one of them are, I have always let you win. You solve the case, get a pat on the back from your co-workers and Captain Phillips. Then the commissioner announces the end of 'the worst terror' ever unleashed on New York. You follow that up by having earth-shaking sex with your lover of choice and I type 'The End'." The woman rested one hip on Lorenzo's desk as though it were a familiar seat. "Hardly seems fair to me Detective Lattimer."

Casey shook her head confounded by the woman's words, "Did you escape from Bellevue's psych ward or something?"

The stranger in red then stood up and laughed. "See, this is why I have to kill you, you're a bitch."

Detective Lattimer drew her weapon and pointed it at the woman. "I'm going to guess that you are 'My Creator'."

The blond smiled and pulled open one side of her jacket, and reached into the inside breast pocket.

Lattimer took a firing stance and shouted, "Put your hands where I can see them!"

Rolling her eyes at the detective, the woman pulled a full sized laptop from her jacket much to the surprise and disbelief of Casey Lattimer, who once again shouted to the stranger to show her hands. Instead, the woman laid the computer on the vacant desk and opened it.

Not knowing what the stranger was about to do, Detective Lattimer, feeling she had no other choice, fired her weapon."

The bullet struck the woman in red, directly in the center of her chest, knocking her off her feet.

Casey rounded the desk and looked down at the woman lying on the floor. She struggled to speak through the blood filling her throat. "I freaking hate you, Casey Lattimer and I will end you," the stranger gurgled, and took her last breath.

Detective Lorenzo suddenly appeared. He looked down at the body and then at Lattimer. "You're cleaning blood spatter off my desk, and when you're done, I'm going to take you right here." He smiled mischievously, pulled Casey into his arms and kissed her passionately.

 

Damn it! Even when I'm daydreaming, she still kicks my ass. I really need to imagine a faster, easier method of doing her in.

Frustrated by the loss of my mental cat-and-imaginary-mouse game, I focused on my surroundings. The store had cleared some shelves out of the Fiction section, allowing more room for the fans of my novel nemesis and creation, Detective Casey Lattimer. Checking my watch, I noticed I had a little less than ten minutes until my scheduled reading. I cursed to myself. Next time Lattimer, next time.  

Sitting back in my chair I placed bookmarks in the novel I was about to read aloud to the people filing in. Five years ago, the crowd forming in front of me would have caused the hiccups. My curse, when I get nervous, is hiccups that can't be cured by holding my breath or drinking water.

I can thank the eardrum-piercing voice of Beverly Provost, my agent, for pushing me into these book readings and signings. Don't get me wrong, outside of my circle of friends, Beverly is my favorite person.

To be honest, I avoided doing publicity for a while, hoping my writing alone would merit a sale. Beverly eventually wore me down by telling me repeatedly during that second year, I should meet my fans in person and enjoy what was then a budding celebrity status. She made me choose. It was selling novels from the grave, (after jumping off a bridge to escape her glass-shattering octaves), or just sucking it up and doing some readings. So, I sucked it up.

Because of this, I am sitting in Barnes & Noble in Manhattan waiting to read the first two chapters from "Lattimer Haunted." The bookstore is near the NBC news studios, where this morning, I sat during an interview with Ann Curry on the Today Show.

I don't mind interviews, and I love talking about writing, because it is my passion. From experience, I realize no one cares about who created these people. Fans want the character, not the author. Readers want the detective who shoots the criminal in the head in self-defense — followed by hot, steamy sex scenes. Damn you, Casey!

The crowd in the bookstore is large. Even with a dreary fall rain outside, many people have gathered around the already filled chairs to listen to me read about how Detective Casey Lattimer successfully busts the latest serial killer.

Casey has this extraordinary ability to see through the eyes of the dead and things they touch and of course, always saves the day. To top it off, she has an incredible on-off relationship with a shockingly hot detective, who touches her in all the right places, and does not snore or talk about the golf green in his sleep.

I hate her!

Tomorrow, I will fly home. If Gary, my spouse, is there, I will most likely fall over the golf bag that he always seems to leave in the foyer. My husband will peck me on top of my head as he leaves—if he can find the time to hunt me down in my office.

Yeah, Casey gets to shoot people, while I get to trip over their crap.

If Gary is not on his way out to a golf course, he will have his phone plugged into his ear. He does this so he can yell at his assistant, Joyce, mostly about the choice of manuscripts she sends him. With him, it's all work, or golf.

My thoughts return to loathing my novel nemesis. Maybe I will let Detective Lattimer have it. For a year, I have been tossing around the idea of killing her off, just so I can sleep at night.

After the most difficult of cases and narrow escapes that might have ended her life, she is always, at the last minute, somehow saved. I could just drop her down an elevator shaft. Because she'd be too busy living her perfect existence, and would miss seeing the elevator is not there when the doors open.

Oops.

I would be courteous enough to write myself in, so I could wave to her as she plummets.

Phil, the store manager, stands up in front of me in very loose Dockers. His pants make it seem as though someone has stolen his ass. If you are going to put your ass in front of someone, at least have one.

"Hello and welcome to our latest reading and book signing for the exciting new novel Lattimer Haunted. This is the sixth installment of the Casey Lattimer series by Sinara Ellis!"

There was a round of applause as the store manager moved out of the way and I stepped up to the podium. I smiled at the crowd, "Hello, I'm Sinara Ellis. I want to thank all of you for coming to my book reading today. I'll be signing books and answering your questions after the reading." I stopped to reach for my water bottle. "One minute." I took a drink from my Evian and placed it back under the podium. "I'll be reading from the first two chapters of Lattimer Haunted. I hope you enjoy it." I pushed my glasses up on my nose so the print was clear, and I began.

After finishing chapter one, where Casey complains about not having her lover with her, and a new homicide case, I read into chapter two for my audience. In it, Casey is called to another murder scene. The killer, watching the cops arrive at the building, spots Detective Lattimer. He chooses her to be his next victim and starts planning his hunt for her.

Casey is everything I'm not. I can best describe her as a man with a vagina. Deep down, she is aware that she's phenomenal. Detective Lattimer is not afraid to shoot a man for letting her win an arm-wrestling match to protect her ego. She worships the New York Yankees and sleeps with a gun under her pillow. She is also a sexual deviant. Real women are not like that—this is why most of my fans are men. Casey Lattimer is the woman they want. She stands for truth, justice and getting laid.

Do not get me wrong, women are just as guilty of reading books to find that missing pleasure in a nonexistent man. We will spend two bucks at a resale bookshop because we are ashamed to pay full price for the lusty words to describe the sex we genuinely want.

I believe there should be a law that all men read sex scenes in romance novels, where the studs on the covers are physical gods with perfect bodies and turgid members that are always the right size. They could learn so much.

Okay fine, you do not have to be the guy on the front wearing only a cowboy hat, or that loincloth that seems to be blowing in the wind, but never quite high enough to give us a peek. Just learn to have the sex that will make a girl scream—instead of screwing it up and climaxing before we are even close. This leaves us frustrated as you roll over and fall asleep.

Let's face it guys, if you were willing to satisfy, women would be less likely to let themselves go. We would not be sitting at home eating ice cream because it is pretty much the only thing that seems to satisfy us other than cookie dough and shoe shopping—neither of which compares to the ultimate earth-shattering orgasm.

Ouch, the truth hurts!

Both men and women spend our lives dreaming that we will find something we do not. In the end we end up settling, don't kid yourselves; you know, deep down you did too. 

I know I did.

I have not climaxed in five years with Gary. That's right—I have been married six years and unsatisfied for most of them. Before our marriage, we spent entire weekends in bed. He was still wooing me and the sex could move planets in my head. Then again, I told the truth about my sexual satisfaction back then. 

We can blame the monotony of it all on travel, or our careers or half-a-million other things. I don't know what happened. I faked it for a while, hoping that my moans of pleasure would cause him excitement, like positive reinforcement for dogs, thinking maybe he would try harder—but no.

I love Gary—I think. We work together and that relationship is strong, he's my editor. I cling to the hope that when I finally let Casey Lattimer go off to wherever I send her, Gary and I can be the people we were five years ago. However, it is a struggle. He keeps pushing for more novels and I keep trying to kill her. Thankfully, there is light at the end of the tunnel. My contract only has one more book for the series. Although my publisher has offered me another four-book deal for the Lattimer series, I have yet to respond.

 

After signing about a hundred inside pages of Casey Lattimer novels and chatting up my fans, I thanked Phil and hailed a cab to my hotel.

I met Beverly for a quiet dinner that evening, if you can call dinner with her voice's pitch, quiet.

"Sinnie, I'm so excited to hear how the next book is coming. Do you have a title yet?"

I smiled at her, while on the inside, I wanted to stab my eardrums with my salad fork. "I'm still working on that Bev. I want it to be just right." I don't have a real title, not one I want to give her. I doubt that she would like Lattimer Falls Down and Goes BOOM!

Beverly took a drink of her wine and looked at me with a smile, "Alright Sinnie, you have to tell me, is Casey going to wear that red wedding dress you wrote about in Lattimer Haunted? I have to know. Does Lorenzo finally get her to cave? He's so hot, I would."

I took a long drink from my wine glass until I emptied it. Why does she do this to me? "I'm not at fifty pages yet, and you know the deal. I don't show and tell until I have a comfortable start. This tour has really cut into my writing time." Beverly usually accepts this excuse for my lack of literary output. Besides, I don't know yet. I am still thinking about the elevator shaft scenario. I guess I could be cruel and have Detective Lorenzo drop her down the shaft after they get married.

I apparently started to staring into space, because Beverly startled me. "Sinnie, don't go into la-la land on me. You have to give me something. I want to keep the publisher excited."

This was my agent's very bad excuse and a total lie. Beverly would make a horrible lawyer. For those that know her well, it is easy to hear that squeaky-door pitch at the end of a fib she tells. Yes, her pitch gets higher when she lies, dogs howl in pain in the distance, glass shatters and small children's ears start bleeding. "I know better, Beverly. I live with my editor."

Beverly sighed and drank more wine, looking rather hurt. "Sinnie, it's so hard to wait. And with only a few weeks left until it's due, I was just hoping you could give me a little clue. Maybe just a little taste really; can't you tell me anything?"

I sat thinking of a way to say 'Casey turns into a klutz at the wrong time.' Then I lied to her, mostly because I was unwilling to make her cry in public. "Casey is going to surprise everyone in a big way. That's all I'm saying, Beverly."

The broad smile that came across her face immediately told me I had chosen my words well.

"I'm so excited! You have no idea Sinnie."

We finished dinner with small talk and another bottle of wine.

I said my good-byes to her and promised to call her when I returned to Arizona. Then waving down a cab, I headed back to my hotel to pack and sleep. This was the last city in the tour for Lattimer Haunted, unless the book went to a second printing, like the last one did.

I checked my phone to find no calls from Gary, not even a call to ask how it went. Have we already reached this point? He knows it went well, as usual, so why ask? He is probably sitting at the clubhouse drinking and screaming into his Bluetooth at someone, most likely his assistant.