The Story Teller

Now here's a blast from the past. It began the year I was born so sadly I was a little too young for Marshall Cavendish's Story Teller magazine (though I did have enormous fun reading their Ancestral Trail series in later years).

It was a collection of children's tales, a mixture of modern novels and classic folk/fairy stories, so the likes of The Wind in the Willows and The Wizard of Oz mixed with Rapunzel, Cinderella and Pandora's Box; all of which were read by the respected acting type of the day (and now). These actors included, but were not limited to; Brian Blessed, Sheila Hancock, Joss Ackland, Joanna Lumley, Diana Rigg, Siân Phillips, Tom Baker, Ian Holm, Miriam Margolyes, Martin Shaw, Richard Briers and Derek Jacobi.

And why am I remembering this? Well, I've just found out that some lovely person has placed a number of the stories online. So go. Listen. And if you really need any reason to investigate further, just have a listen Oscar Wilde's The Happy Prince, read by Tim Curry.

Still?

There's been a few brilliant pictures of gay protestors fighting tooth and nail for marriage, and the known misery that comes with it, floating around the web recently.

Two of my absolutely favourite have to be these;




Happy times in many ways. At times you think the idiots are finally losing.

But then you read something like this, and your heart sinks, just a little.

If wishes came true

I'm ill, and really wishing I wasn't.

But you know what I wish even more, I wish that this was real...

Smut: Two Unseemly Stories by Alan Bennett (Mrs Donaldson)

Very much looking forward to this!

The Snow Spider.

From a very new, very high-budgeted TV fantasy series, to an older, decidedly less highly-budgeted one.

Some wonderful human being has uploaded the old HTV adaptation of possibly my favourite book as a child, Jenny Nimmo's The Snow Spider (starring the ever wonderful Siân Phillips).

And what kind of person would I be if I did not share the love here.

Part 1


Part 2


Part 3


Part 4


Part 5


Part 6


Part 7


Part 8


Part 9


Part 10

A Game of Thrones

I've likely come too late to the book, the audio version of which I'm in the early stages of, as HBO's promising new adaption is almost upon us. And very good it's looking too.

Game of Thrones Exclusive Preview

Titus Awakes.

Will be released 7th July it would appear. Alongside a new, illustrated edition of the sequence's first three books.

And very pretty they both look, too.

A bit of a refresh.

As Editred sadly disappeared some time back most of the story entries on here had stopped working, so I decided a spot of spring cleaning might be in order.

They were mostly old versions of stuff I have much improved, and a few that should never have seen the light of day.

However expect more to come.

The lovely folk at Friction Magazine have just been in contact to tell me they will publish one of my more recent efforts, Fitzwilliam and the God of the Northern Winds, in their next issue. This is due online any day now, and I shall of course provide a link when I do.

I'm also whittling away at my entry for this year's Northern Writer's Awards, which will be the first 3000 words of the book I am working on, The Cuckoo In Winter (which I hope will be the first in a sequence of books to be called A Northern Wind Is Blowing). I think that too might make an appearance, as I am increasingly pleased with it.

Firebird & Nightingale

Well on the way to cometing my second draft. Write up of a whole host of scribbled notes is now done, fucker is currently standind at about 93,000 words. Have now got a number of changes to go through, all involving very dull things like capitalisation, fonts, use of italics and multiple names.

Then one that’s complete, I get the joy of working on an agent pack.

Woo.

And, indeed, whoo.

Let’s celebrate with a Lego model of Geordi la Forge.

SFX’s Top 25 Scribbles

SFX have just published their top 25 Science Fiction and Fantasy books. You definitely won’t be surprised by the winner, but there are a few eyebrow raisers. Narnia didn’t do too well, and the absence of Gormenghast, The Dark Is Rising and Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell is oddness indeed. But it’s a solid list, the right Harry Potter book made it up there (Prisoner of Azkaban) and there’s grim satisfaction to be had noting that His Dark Materials trounced The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe.

Take a look...

Books, books and more books.

One of the great joys of payday is that you can finally allow yourself to fork out on those sexy little copies, ones that have been winking at you from the shelves coquettishly for far too long. And that is exactly what I did yesterday afternoon. I probably shouldn’t because yesterday was a tired day, and on tired days I know I need to get that once a fortnight early night to enable me to keep functioning now I have to get up at 6am every day.

So I got in from work, and I fell asleep reading The Black Dossier. This was not The Black Dossier’s fault, The Black Dossier is excellent. It’s hard not to adore Moore’s weaving of so many different literary worlds into one sublime story, and the setting here (set shortly after the premature fall of Orwell’s Big Brother) nicely alters the previous dynamic. Stoker’s Mina Murray and Haggard’s Alain Quartermaine (last seen defeating Wells’ Martian invasion) are now immortal renegades pursued by James Bond of all people. Moore’s scathing parody of Fleming’s Bond - a rapist, liar thug and murderer with somewhat flexible patriotism - is brilliant, and a perfect foil for the more smug of the Moore and Connery films. This collision of the different worlds is sometimes bizarre but always satisfying - Mycroft and Sherlock Holmes being declared Unpersons in true 1984 style - hints that George Smiley worked for O’Brien - Virginia Woolfe’s Orlando mingling with 3000 years worth of fictional and mythological characters. And as for the end, well, that hurt my head slightly, but it was still magnificent.



Nevertheless, I fell asleep. I don’t think I napped long, so an early night should still have been possible. Dinner was had, then Moore was finished, and I went to bed about ninish. Hideously early but necessary. I could have slept then, easily, but what I did was start to read Alan Bennet’s An Uncommon Reader, after all, a few pages before bedtime never hurt anybody. I only went and read the whole thing. Admittedly it was definitely in the long short story / short novella leagues of length, but still. Read the full thing, giggling occasionally, slightly confused at Bennet’s scary ability to make me empathise with a member of the Royal family, thrilled at the potential power of a mobile library van. It’s a wonderful book, a story of a cut off woman who humanises herself through reading, and frankly worth the black rings now under my eyes as a result.



It's also a very strong argument for reading and for libraries, and talking about libraries brings me neatly to this marvellous Observer article on precisely that subject. It’s well worth a read to see just what threats the country’s libraries are under, and about the movements to stop them. The Brighton library incident she mentions is particularly horrific. It also says some very nice things about Newcastle’s soon to open new Central Library (to be called, my colleagues at the Council tell me, The Avison Building). Like the new super Hancock which is also (I believe) nearly done, I am very much looking forward to the opening. Hundreds of thousands spent upon new books? Hell yeah!

Yesterday, I also bought this.




Sexy isn’t it. Officially I tend to say what’s important about a book is its text, I’ve even written a short story on the subject (nothing I would put online I hasten to add, it wasn’t very good) but really I’m as drawn to a sexy edition as much as the next reading nerd. This is a reproduction of the original British edition; I’ve just learned from some of Christopher Tolkien’s notes that JRR Tolkien drew the beautiful cover illustration himself - and had a number of problems cause by his publisher’s mysterious aversion to red. I’m not sure if I want to read it or stroke it. And that reminds me...

I missed this because I was away and because, in Britain, The Colbert Report is on FX. (Who the hell watches FX?) Put it on proper telly you bunch of berks (I’ve recently found out what berk is rhyming slang for, and have resolved to use it more, in tribute to Ronnie Barker, who was forced to say ‘nerk’ instead) and not at gay O’clock like you have The Wire (serious BBC, pull your act together). But anyway, here’s Neil Gaiman being interviewed by everybody’s favourite Daily Show escapee.

The Colbert Report	Mon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c
Neil Gaiman
comedycentral.com
Colbert Report Full Episodes Political Humor NASA Name Contest

And he’s of course dead right. The Lord of the Rings is ace. Tom Bombadil is not. In fact Tom Bombadil seems to have been created by some perverse law of nature that a book as wonderful as The Ring Sets Out - featuring such satisfying creepiness as the black riders stalking the Hobbits through the abruptly sinister Shire, and the wraiths of the barrow downs - has to be dragged back by a yellow hatted freak with a dubious interest in ponies. And don’t pretend you disagree. I hate Tom Bombadil. You hate Tom Bombadil. I highly suspect JRR Tolkien hated Tom Bombadil, who can surely only be the result of a bad experience with hallucinogens.



I have a hunch the devoutly Catholic Tolkien said a large number of Hail Marys later in his life for everything between the hobbits being eaten by Old Man Willow and entering the Barrow Downs. The only shining lights is that adaptations are generally free to miss old Tom out, he has no real relevance to the central story, and off the top of my head the only adaptation I can remember that featured Bombadil was the SNES game. This would be very satisfactory, if only he wasn’t so linked in to the Barrow Downs, which have also tended to be absent. I suppose Tom Bombadil could work, but only if he was played by Lawrence Fishburne. Until then he shall continue to be the Tolkien lovers dirty little secret. Him and Fatty Lumpkin.

But back to the point, isn’t it pretty. Every time I even consider that there might be something in these Ebook things after all something like this reminds me why they’ll always be second rate to me. Even this geet expensive Sony thing. At first glance it looks rather good, but after thirty seconds of trying the demo model in Waterstones it was already annoying. They’ll have to get better than that (and make it cheaper too, to be perfectly honest), readers tend to be a bit more resistant to such things than music lovers, well, in Britain at least. Amusingly conservative about the whole thing in fact, and it’s not often I’ll admit to being that.

New look Harry Potter.

While I very much enjoyed the books, I must confess to always being a little underwhelmed by the British Harry Potter covers. The cartoony versions are bland, and the newer adult versions ruin their interesting enough images with the ridiculously over the top gold lettering. The less said about the original 'adult' covers the better.

Should a redesign happen, Bloomsbury could do worse than M.S. Corley's series of covers in classic Penguin style (though what Penguin themselves have to say about that is another matter).




And then of course there's the Lemony Snickett redesign. The Series of Unfortunate Events currently have excellent covers, however these are a particularly sexy stab in themselves.

Final thought for the night.

As this nifty little interview has just reminded me, I fall a little bit more in love with Will Self every day.

But I do still enjoy “Dorian”. Of all my books, it’s the one I feel the most affection for. It does take me back to that part of my life. Even if I’m not actively homosexual, it’s fun to pick up on it again. I think the enjoyment of certain aspects of gay culture by heterosexual men is one of the great developments of recent times. Personally, I’m really comfortable with that. But I have to be really honest about this, and say that I’m also quite comfortable with what you might call my homophobia. Because I don’t resist the idea that I can be attracted to men, I also don’t resist the idea that I can find some aspects of gay culture pretty appalling. There are aspects of gay culture that really jar with me.’

Dorian is a book I have been meaning to read for a while now, if only because it seems to get slagged off by people who seem to be idiots, a lot.

On writing to authors.

A glance at Susan Hill's website has led me to this page for the first time. It's a snapshot of mail she receives from her many readers; some nice, more abusive, most of it weird. Having books on GCSE syllabuses can be a mixed blessing I suppose, but you've got to wonder at people who take the time to write to someone in order to compare studying their book to water torture, and stating how satisfying it was to then burn the book with the aid of WD40.

I'm all for honest criticism but at times its a wonder more people don't hunt down and apply actual water torture to the many wannabe hard cases hiding shivering behind their internet connections.

Still, it's given me an urge to read one of hill's books, and since the only books of hers I have in the house in The Woman In Black (which I read many years ago, but is due a re-read I think) it's going to have to be that. This is a book which, I don't mind admitting as it's not something which happens very often, scared the crap out of me a number of years back (and I really don't get scared by books, I've read a number which various people have promised will leave me terrified, The Shining being prominent, and nothing).



I've just finished two Pratchett books I've been alternating while ill over the past few days (yellow fever or manflu, you decide). One is an audiobook of Equal Rites, read by the ever welcome Cecilia Imrie, which was pretty much as I remembered it (still one of my favourite books, mixing fantasy, humour, satire in feminism in one glorious package). The fact it was an audiobook helped, as it enabled me to listen on my iPod while playing Super Smash Brother Brawl (ridiculously good fun I must say, and the return of the long missed Kid Icarus is most pleasing). The other was the print version of Mort, which I very much enjoyed, but can barely remember at all to the extent that I wonder if I ever read past Chapter 2 before, still, it has been a number of years.



And now it's two in the morning, and I can't sleep because I've spent most of the past few days sleeping. So what does a twenty-something man about town do in such a circumstance on a Saturday night. Go out, visit friends, do some of that late night writing authors always harp on about, perhaps go to a sauna? No, what I'm doing is sitting, doing a jigsaw online. The one below to be precise, dangerously addictive.

And it only took me twelve minutes longer than the website's average.

The Lost Libraries of Timbuktu.

Having allowed myself to spend much of today sleeping I, hardly surprisingly, am now wide awake. Which is wonderful. Today's been as irritating as hell, feeling fine one mint, nauseous the next, so dizzy I can't stand the one after that. And there's been all that beautiful snow and I haven't been able to take advantage of it.

I have however very much enjoyed tonight's BBC 4 documentary The Lost Libraries of Timbuktu. Presented by the confusingly familiar Aminatta Forna, and part of BBC 4's simply ace Why Reading Matters series, this was a look at a number of manuscripts that survived (thanks to some extraordinarily dedicated people) hundreds of years when they could easily have been lost or destroyed, and how they're now being returned to the world and forcing everybody to reconsider their opinions of Africa's literary inheritance at the same time.

Alan & Annie.

Excellent mini-feature on Alan Moore from some TV show I've never heard of (sadly neglecting to mention Lost Girls but otherwise good for something length).

Alan Moore Interview
Uploaded by gmwright

And to go hand in hand with that, here's the video for Annie Lennox's cover of Shining Light. Lovely.



Lennox has always been pretty sharp with the cover versions, the Medusa album's a testament to that, but watching the above has put in mind of her pre-Eurythmics days and this excellent little Tourists cover.

Niece of Shame.

On a more positive subject I'd forgotten how magnificent White Teeth is.

Sigh, another author to add to the 'if I could write like her/him, I'd be a happy happy man' pile.

Line of the film - 'I see you kept my bagpipes'.

Well, it's over, and I'm happy, but I have to know, what kind of cunt is called 'Sky' anyway?

Still, you've got to admire a film where a sass filled Christine Baranski is batting away young, gorgeous black teenagers at every turn; not to mention Meryl Streep having her pick of Bond (James Bond!), Mr Darcy, and some other bloke no-one's ever heard of. Mind they do play it a bit drunken aunty, but it works, mostly, particularly the moment of Spice Girls lite feminism where they cajole the various housewives of the island to leave their husbands and dance around the island for no real reason.

Colin Firth is an utter legend for doing this film by the way, I think he's the only male member of the cast who actually gets what kind of film Mamma Mia is meant to be. I particularly like the choice of a boyfriend for him, they couldn't have found a truer image of the gay British male's dream of a Mediterranean toy boy if they'd tried (which they clearly did). And of course he brings us the brilliance of the final, supposedly deeply erotic kiss between the irritating yank and the irritating Brit being eclipsed Firth's pale, flabby gut as it bounces in the pouring water.

Julie Walters is a halfway point, who irritates me for a large part of this movie (because she's a great actress who seems to spend half of her career acting like your Grandma after a few gins on karaoke night at the home), absolutely redeems herself with her man hungry, borderline cock-crazed performance of Take A Chance On Me (climaxing in possibly the most perplexing head banging session ever filmed).



Right, a little too much musing on Mamma Mia here, I'd best hurry, Wonder Boys is starting soon (wahey) which is frankly the only reason I'm not in bed right now. Somewhat tired because I stayed up later finishing American Gods (gripped, absolutely gripped right until the end), making plans for going to Africa (looks like Sierra Leone is on the cards) and pondering if I should book up on one of the Arvon courses (frustratingly one of the options is absolutely perfect, but it isn't on until frigging November).

I got a little excited by a hint of winter sun today, decided it was clearly warm enough to sit outside and read the paper, went in ten minutes later when it was beginning to hurt me to move my fingers. Silly me, eh.

My, there's a lot of talk about Obama on Newsnight, hardly surprising of course, but why is everybody just stating the bloody obvious? I think I preferred Schama when he was drunk on Newsnight. Ooh, they've just done a very Lord of the Rings shot of the White House, and I have to say, Obama looks very good in that coat.

In the end.

A compromise won out. American Gods in bed, glorious. Almost as good as actually taking Neil Gaiman to bed with me.