Thomas Pluck's Blog, page 73

Don't Change

One of my favorite songs of all time. The original 80s video. I listen to this on loop while writing occasionally. I'll post a series of the songs I'm obsessed with, the ones I'll loop when writing or driving when I want ideas to come. This is one of the biggies, and seeing it in concert, even with the new singer, was a great experience.



I'm standing here on the ground
The sky above won't fall down
See no evil in all direction
Resolution of happiness
Things have been dark
For too long

Don't change for you
Don't change a thing for me

I found a love I had lost
It was gone for too long
Hear no evil in all directions
Execution of bitterness
Message received loud and clear

Don't change for you
Don't change a thing for me

I'm standing here on the ground
The sky above won't fall down
See no evil in all directions
Resolution of happiness
Things have been dark for too long

Don't change for you
Don't change a thing for me




© 2011 Thomas Pluck[image error]

Smoke by Nigel Bird

I've enjoyed Nigel Bird's short fiction for years. He imbues his characters with such a vital and fragile humanity that you feel as if you're watching a nature documentary about a doomed species who cannot change their ways. His novella Smoke is no exception. We follow two sad victims of the local thugs pushed so far they seek revenge at whatever cost. Carlo, the wheelchair bound chip shop owner, and Jimmy, a bully's target carrying scars inside and out. Like two trains on the same track, they thunder toward destiny as the thugs hold a dogfight rumble in town and money pours in. Full of colorful grotesques like Eddie the ice cream truck man and Jimmy's washed up criminal father trying to restore an old Capri as if it will repair his own soul, Smoke takes you into the cruel landscape of urban decay where the cost of living might be the ability to live with one's self.



Highly recommended.





*due diligence. Nigel is a friend of mine and has interview me on his blog Sea Minor.



© 2011 Thomas Pluck

Review: Gun

Gun by Ray Banks

My rating: 5 of 5 stars



I called this one a "master class in the amplification of tension." A kid gets out of juvie and takes a job that seems simple, and everything keeps getting worse and worse. And one scene flows from the next, like destiny. A brilliant fast read. I had to take a piss during the last ten pages and cross my legs instead of putting it down. That's what we call "compelling writing."




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putting the laughter in slaughter...

Friends have started a humor blog called The Laughter Shack, andyou can tell when the editors are B.J. Titzengolf and JoAnne Kallott, they're funny fellers. Smart fellers, not fart smellers.







They want funny, well-written submissions of 500 words or less and they are on Twitter as @LaughterShack.





© 2011 Thomas Pluck

Flash Fiction: Candle

This is for the Flash Fiction Friday cue "Old Men in New Cars," by guest host David Barber, about two old folks parked at the lake...







Candle




So I was parked by the lake, lovely bit of water, when I started thinking fractions.
I was never good at maths, never had much use for it. I work with me hands, and one two is all I need to know. Three, sometimes. An uppercut or a hook.
Never had use for long division until now. Made my head hurt.
I kept an eye on the rear view. The boys would be arriving. Six ways, we'd split. Half shares for me and the lookout, on account we didn't go in the shop. Two for the inside bloke. I didn't count but from the thump it made, it was juicy.
Trusting one fellow with the loot seems dim, but Cy knows I'm solid. Done him a five spot without a peep, even when my Mum was dying. The pigs leaned real hard then, they did. I told the inspector I'd talk if he hopped down the cell block with candle up his arse. Lit, mind you.
For that, the blokes call me Candle. When I'm collecting, I tell 'em it's because if they don't pay, it's lights out. So it works two ways, like that.

While I was thinking, these two old fossils parked by the lake in their Talbot Sunbeam. Wasn't supposed to be anyone here. It was bloody awful out there with the wind. No day for a picnic. What were they doing?
They had that sad look old people get, like something's grabbed the skin on both sides of their chin. Frowning like life let them down. Kids moved off. Never get to see the grandchildren. A measly pension, licking the tins.
I felt a bit lonely then. Sky was dark. Threatening. Like the day the inspector told me I wasn't getting to see my Mum. That was right cruel. My old man kicked it when I was but a lad. Bad ticker. Fell off a ladder carrying bricks. I was apprenticing, saw it all. Said I'd carry the hod for him, but the foreman said he had to do it. Rules. He went down like a ton of bricks, and so did the foreman, when I got my hands on him. Wanted to give the inspector a taste of that.

Tap tap tap. Nearly gave me a heart attack, the old geezer did. I rolled down the window.
"You handy, boy?"
I'm not, but I couldn't tell him to bugger off, could I? I walked slow as he shuffled to his car. Hand on his hat in the wind. His wife gave a little wave.
Bonnet was open.
"Tell me if you see anything."
He turned the key and the engine struggled.
I shrugged, twisted a few connections.
"Ya got a pair of jump leads?"
Now I didn't know if I had jump leads or a bloody accordion in the boot, but I wasn't opening it. Geezer sees the bag of cash, I got to snap both their necks and dump them in the lake. That would break my heart. I told him no.
His eyes scrunched up, eyebrows like two wool mittens shaking hands.
"I could push you to the road," I said.
"Up that hill, son?" He shook his head. I'm a big fella but the old bloke was right. I'd push them up and my luck he'd forget the brake and they'd sail right into the water.
"I've got my mobile," I said. "Do you have any children?"
"Son," he said. "It hurts me to ask, but could we... put your battery in, just to get us started?" He wouldn't look me in the eyes. Kept looking out at that lake, like he'd rather jump in the frigid water than ask. I knew it. Lousy ingrates, their kids were. Left them to rot.

He got a spanner and I watched as he removed his dead battery. I carried it to the boot, then got the good one from Cy's saloon. I felt a stone in me stomach as we took it out. Cy wouldn't like this, but if we were quick he'd be none the wiser.
The old geezer would get three tries, I told myself. Then I was taking it back. Wouldn't do to drain it.
First try, it sputters. I figure we're done. But next try, it fires up. I smile and give him the thumbs up, and then he's pulling away, the old bastard!
I run after him, slapping the car, hollering. Try to grab the handle, but his little car pulls away and the old twat gives me the two fingered salute.
I head back to put their battery in the saloon, so I can tell Cy the battery just up and died, when I remember, it's in their boot.
Oh, bloody hell. What's the world coming to when you can't trust old people?









© 2011 Thomas Pluck

Review: Pulp Modern Autumn 2011

Pulp Modern Autumn 2011 by Alec Cizak

My rating: 5 of 5 stars



I got a dog in this fight but hear what I gotta say...

This is a crosscut of some of the best new pulp today, in the new golden age of short genre fiction. Beginning with a cold lesson in hardboiled from grandmaster Lawrence Block, this journey through darkest crime, thrilling adventure, bizarre and whimsical fantasies and science fiction, and gritty, gripping westerns collects a wild variety of tales that define the new era of pulp.

Glenn Gray will make you squirm and laugh out loud; Copper Smith has something for the film buffs; Yarrow Paisley will disturb you with the incredible edible egg. Two cold as hell crime tales by John Kenyon and David James Keaton. Garnett Elliott gives us a samurai noir mystery from the Edo Period of Japan. James Duncan and Stephen Rogers remind us not to count out the old folks when it comes to crime and noir.

I recently called Edward Grainger's Cash Laramie tales the new frontier of Western pulp, and he proves it again with "The Wicked," the finisher for this excellent collection, just one of a pack of excellent westerns with Jimmy Callaway telling the tale of the OK Corral from the other side, Matt Pizzolato giving us a bad man's mea culpa, Sandra Seamans telling a true frontier noir tale with a schoolmarm, a mountain man, a sheriff and a whore dealing with a grizzly on the prowl. And Melissa Embry gives us a rodeo tale with an Indian and an Indian that you won't soon forget.

C.J. Edwards gives us a chilling space opera that Firefly fans will love; Chris La Tray gives us a pulp adventure set in Anasazi territory that would have improved the last Indiana Jones film, and that is not to damn with faint praise.

Every story was memorable and I'm proud to be a part of this collection. My own story is a personal favorite starring Denny the Dent, a hulking giant who seems simple but knows right from wrong... and has a brutal talent for setting things right in his own twisted way. If you liked Denny in Crimespree #43, make sure you read his origin story here.



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Review: Adventures of Cash Laramie and Gideon Miles, Vol. II

Adventures of Cash Laramie and Gideon Miles, Vol. II by Edward A. Grainger

My rating: 5 of 5 stars



I was never much into westerns in print until Cash Laramie came along, and the second volume may even exceed the first. Opening with the novella that tells us how Cash got the arrowhead around his neck and the name that strikes fear into owlhoots and men of misguided moral compass alike, this collection takes Cash and Gideon Miles on harrowing adventures requiring both a fast gun hand and a depth of character to survive. It's this second quality that shines in this collection, as we see Cash as both an honorable and a hot-tempered youth, in situations where his reactions end up defining him as a man. Gideon Miles only gets one solo tale, but it's also one that explores the ambiguities of his role as a lawman, and as a black man during Reconstruction. But don't worry, he also needs his wits and sharpshooter eyes to make it through his tale alive.
Edward A. Grainger manages to write exciting tales with a strong moral focus, where the grit coats things in ever-spreading shades of gray. There are no easy choices or simple heroes and villains, just the living and the dead, with two men trying to seed justice in a wild and barren landscape where greed and power seem the only weeds able to find any purchase.
In short, saddle up, partner, and come along for a ride along the trail westerns such as The Proposition and Unforgiven blazed, and let Cash and Miles take you deeper into the frontier of new western pulp.



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My Voyage to Italy

I just got back from a short vacation in Italy. The Firecracker and I were visiting friends in Napoli, home of the Camorra crime syndicate and the world's greatest pizza. We took day trips to Pompeii, Rome and Capri and tried to smuggle home a water buffalo so we could make our own mozzarella di bufala, but customs wouldn't allow it. We stayed in the suburb of Pozzuoli, where Sophia Loren was born and where St. Paul first arrived in Italy. I haven't read or seen Gomorrah yet, but we were not robbed, molested or frightened. It's a nice town with a lot of character and I suggest you visit.





The Blue Grotto, Capri





Vesuvius from Pompei





The prostitutes in Pompei had picture menus.

 Pompei is enormous and daunting and impossible to capture the scale of from the ground. It was amazing, and walking there all day whet the appetite for...



Pizza at Cipster in Pozzuoli.

 Local pizza joint in Pozzuoli run by a guy named Mario, they make a great pizza. I liked the one at Acqua e Farina as well.



Movie poster - a comedy about the "Malavita" or mob life





 Napoli has a reputation of being a rough criminal hell hole but we ran into no trouble. Cars get broken into a lot and the Camorra crime syndicate skims everywhere with a street tax, but you get that in Chicago too. Pozzuoli is where Sophia Loren was born. It has a sulphur smell from a vent of Vesuvius nearby but it was a charming tough locale that I enjoyed... but I didn't have to drive!



 Random Capri photo. This guy is in a film by Michelangelo Antonioni, he just doesn't know it yet.



The Green Grotto, Capri





The Love Hole, Capri





Looking down on the peons from Capri









 The Coliseum is amazing and enormous, even when crammed with tourists. We rebuild stadiums every 15 years. This one is 2000 years old and show me a bad seat.


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One of the Four Fountains of Rome





The extent of the ruins in the Roman Forums





Detail of the Trevi Fountain. 

 The Trevi fountain at night is a madhouse. We dined at a lovely restaurant called That's Amore, and despite the name, Italians eat there and the food is excellent. The best mozzarella di bufala of the trip, and I had an excellent linguini with tuna, capers, tomatoes. The pizza in Rome sucks compared to Napoli.







 The Pantheon was retooled by the Catholic church and they hold mass there. One day Athena will strike down the interlopers and Pluto will swallow them in the Underworld.



 The Fabricius bridge was built in A.D. 62 and still stands over the revolting green waters of the Tiber.



Trajan had a little winky.





An attempt at capturing the extent of Pompei





A white dog in Pompei. They are wild but friendly. I let one sniff my hand, pet his bony back and he licked my hand, for the salt I am sure. They look hungry. They manage to funnel thousands of tourists through here and protect things just enough. It is more important to let the world see the past than to protect it. Compared to American sacred sites they do a much better job of making you feel welcome instead of an escaped prisoner.



Italy was fine to travel to. The trains ran on time from Rome. In Pozzuoli, they were like New York in the '70s, without Snake Plissken to save you. Okay, not that bad, but very old, slow, noisy. The airport was excellent in both Rome and Napoli and takes a big dump on Charles de Gaulle in Paris, where we nearly missed our flight due to their disorder. When the Italians are more organized than you, you have a problem, France. How do you tell when a French airport worker is on strike? They aren't smoking. The French people are very friendly and helpful, however. My short visit to Paris years ago was delightful, and a smile and a little bon jour (or bon giorno in Italy) gets you a long way.



I can't wait to go back. I want to visit the north, Venice, and the south, Calabria and Bari where my family came from. But if I don't, Napoli is close enough. I've been to my grandfather's house in Bray, Ireland. In Italy I would just look at the little town of Acri and wonder where they might have lived.





© 2011 Thomas Pluck

CONSUME

Just put on the damn glasses!


© 2011 Thomas Pluck

R.I.P.

The man on the right is Steve Jobs, working with Steve Wozniak on the Apple ][e personal computer. My first home PC was an Atari 800XL, but my first experiences were with IIe's at the middle school computer lab, and DEC DOS terminals. I still like a monochrome black screen with green text. Amber is okay too.



I disagreed with a lot of Apple's business practices in the last decade, but you cannot overestimate the effect these two men had. Steve Jobs then went on to to revolutionize music with the iPod, and slap smart phones out of the business world and into normal life with the iPhone. The product he built that I wanted most? Toss up between the NeXT Cube computer and the Apple //c, though I will admit that the early Macs were kind of cool.



I've never owned an Apple product. (I bought my wife an iPod). I appreciated their design and vision, I've even considered a MacBook Air for writing, but I'm too much of a tinkerer, more of a Woz than a Jobs. He was a visionary who died too young. A dyslexic who dropped out of school because he couldn't afford tuition, found like minds and pushed his dreams to incredible success.



Perhaps in the end Apple because more like IBM in the '80s than the hammer thrower from their famous commercial, but you cannot deny that he was the last of the techno hippies who used technological advances to further individuality over mass control of humanity. The company led may have strayed from that ideal in the end, but he changed the world, for the better.









© 2011 Thomas Pluck