tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-56926387413739050992024-03-09T18:46:42.960-08:00Book ScribblesRandom Thoughts, Random Books, Random MindsRalph E. Vaughanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06326668196800976578noreply@blogger.comBlogger145125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692638741373905099.post-50571287647847472352022-10-30T13:17:00.001-07:002022-10-31T11:24:01.014-07:00Bedtime Stories<p style="text-align: justify;">I am the first one to admit, I spend far too much time on YouTube. On the other hand, it is much less a time waster than Facebook (which I visit occasionally) or Twitter (which I abandoned completely because of the endless and ever-growing tide of liberal hate), and it is often a source of vital information. After all, where else are you going to find short, easily digestible videos about the important things in life--meteor impacts, steampunk music, model building, zombies, woodworking, dogs, UFOs, traffic accidents in Chula Vista, ancient, civilizations, volcanoes, comic books, the Fermi Paradox, abandoned shopping malls, silly rants, science fiction, the foibles of humanity, old TV series, Simulation Theory, and, of course, kittens?</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Now and then, something I watch on YouTube leads me to a new book. I found out about <i>The Three Body Problem</i> on a channel called Quinn's Ideas...smart fellow, that Quinn. And all the hullabaloo about that terrible <i>Rings of Power</i> series (Amazon itself soured me with their own teasers, trailers and first fifteen minutes of the series) led me back to rereading LOTR after more than fifty years...overwritten, surely, but Tolkien's facility with the English language makes you wish he had overwritten more. From Gary Lovisi's channel, I learned about a novel featuring HP Lovecraft and Robert E. Howard as characters...a little embarrassing, that one, since it was published twenty years ago, and I should have known about it. And sometimes a channel leads me to an unexpected and pleasant surprise.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2sRsN7MZ829skdvTiVEcmiuZTHZL4nwCwHOmnDcet3owaHvsAUZ1y8S620Q6awSRQotcAdpgkONfzMwidd-ycJ0y0IKX7JkTOQXCf05i4LVRRZMO8iqtDbictWQZZ567236W5ePJ0lqxMB91TJDuLI6pWpsU0sPDOacIfuDfCcsSvI6fM30LaRtjuaQ/s500/bedtime%20vol%201.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="333" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2sRsN7MZ829skdvTiVEcmiuZTHZL4nwCwHOmnDcet3owaHvsAUZ1y8S620Q6awSRQotcAdpgkONfzMwidd-ycJ0y0IKX7JkTOQXCf05i4LVRRZMO8iqtDbictWQZZ567236W5ePJ0lqxMB91TJDuLI6pWpsU0sPDOacIfuDfCcsSvI6fM30LaRtjuaQ/s320/bedtime%20vol%201.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">ISBN 979-8435530322</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJgiwko6muoT593b4jcYig03XzAKdXgCZ6idUXmm-UyiN7oVYYvlZlD5EoYDVnbltunS-DKPaS6TwK0cGRvFJmoshbEEFjp2ytNyKlQ8KIhJ2JZozCxRhGG4LDQ4hWb_JssgsvNjspI_bm-Vi-pLFRUkK6qq9z5yY6HsT-rfSPeXG9C5OanQtZaiC83g/s500/bedtime%20vol%202.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="333" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJgiwko6muoT593b4jcYig03XzAKdXgCZ6idUXmm-UyiN7oVYYvlZlD5EoYDVnbltunS-DKPaS6TwK0cGRvFJmoshbEEFjp2ytNyKlQ8KIhJ2JZozCxRhGG4LDQ4hWb_JssgsvNjspI_bm-Vi-pLFRUkK6qq9z5yY6HsT-rfSPeXG9C5OanQtZaiC83g/s320/bedtime%20vol%202.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">ISBN 979-8835857425</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p style="text-align: justify;">I've been a fan of the YouTube channel Bedtime Stories for several months. Despite the name, the stories they relate are not the kind of nighttime tales you want to tell your kids before they go to sleep, not if you actually want them to go to sleep. The fare offered touches upon aliens, ghosts, mysteries, unexplained phenomena, true crime, odd deaths and urban legends. They are delivered in a delightful English accent (Yorkshire?) and are accompanied by evocative art with some animated effects. The channel has been around for five years, so I have been slowly working my way through past episodes. In one of them, they mentioned the publication of two books, each containing forty stories previously presented to viewers.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">I was hesitant when I heard the word "transcripts," but I took author Richard While at his word that the chapters were more than verbatim copies of the episodes. He was correct. The reader gets revisions, added information, further speculation, and, sometimes, corrections...no matter how thorough one may be in researching, authors are fallible creatures, but one of the strengths of Richard and his colleagues is that they never really close a case, always searching for more information as investigations turn up new data and witnesses.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">The stories really are a mixed bag. In the first forty tales we have the high strangeness of "The Ikley Moor Alien," the historical conundrum of "The Flannan Lighthouse Mystery," the very disturbing case of "The Body on the Reservoir" from Brazil, and my favorite, "There is Something in the Woods." In Volume Two, we have "The Lair of the Wendigo," an examination of the folklore also used by Ambrose Bierce in his classic story; "Tales from Skinwalker Ranch," looking into Indian legends and UFOlogy; the urban legend of "The Manchester Pusher," which asks the question of whether a secret serial killer might haunt Manchester, England (much like the perhaps-mythical Smiley Face Killer in America, also covered by the channel); and "The Kentucky Goblins," a UFO/demon story near and dear to me since I used to live just a stone's throw from Hopkinsville in the 70s.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">If you like mysteries, unsolved crimes, paranormal phenomena, UFOs, cryptids, urban legends, ancient folklore impinging upon modern life, or wonder why so many people vanish without a trace in the national parks of America, these books might be of interest. They are available in paperback and in less expensive e-book versions. I got the paperbacks, myself. As one reviewer noted, the books are easy to pick up, but hard to put down. Me? All I say is, don't read the stories at bedtime. </p>Ralph E. Vaughanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06326668196800976578noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692638741373905099.post-40136193537657051042022-10-02T15:02:00.000-07:002022-10-02T15:02:03.304-07:00Adventure of the Five Sherlocks<p style="text-align: left;"> As most of you know, not only am I a huge fan of the Sherlock Holmes stories and films, I have written a fair share of stories featuring the Great Detective myself. I was also the first to introduce Sherlock Holmes to fantasy writer HP Lovecraft and his cadre of monster-gods, which I did in 1983 with "<a href="https://bookscribbles.blogspot.com/2011/02/when-sherlock-holmes-first-met-hp.html" target="_blank">The Adventure of the Ancient Gods</a>." I've published two collections of Holmes-related tales and provided a handful of stories for anthologies edited by others. The latest example of the latter is "The Adventure of the Five Sherlocks" in <i>Mystery Magazine </i>(formerly <i>Mystery Weekly Magazine</i>), a Canadian periodical, for its October 2022 number.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmFPQpeDa3KADbLzEYkhigGFwM4-l5gGncD5hEsQ4t3QL6q5FVcO4dZDIodko0lF6EYLYpWfITkNTpuGWSWnhikMkTGi6k_ZpcqpgHC3ehRMyN6uEjJaNPKGelNLUi-WQrE1pEXQzoF_mna6o4kBbFhrrHuQ8DRgQy76YJeXggMrJPM8eYH2eTYplrfQ/s1558/MM%20Oct%202022.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1558" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmFPQpeDa3KADbLzEYkhigGFwM4-l5gGncD5hEsQ4t3QL6q5FVcO4dZDIodko0lF6EYLYpWfITkNTpuGWSWnhikMkTGi6k_ZpcqpgHC3ehRMyN6uEjJaNPKGelNLUi-WQrE1pEXQzoF_mna6o4kBbFhrrHuQ8DRgQy76YJeXggMrJPM8eYH2eTYplrfQ/s320/MM%20Oct%202022.jpg" width="246" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BGN66B9G/">Mystery Magazine<br />October 2022<br />Special Sherlock Holmes Double Issue</a></td></tr></tbody></table><br />I had provided two stories for previous issues, in<a href="https://bookscribbles.blogspot.com/2022/05/a-holmes-duo.html" target="_blank"> 2017 and 2019</a>. Both were tales having do with Lovecraft's Cthulhu Mythos, one set in the period between Holmes' apparent death and his return, the other narrated by a Bertie Wooster-like character. When editor Kerry Carter contacted me recently and asked if I had anything to contribute, I considered another foray into the Mythos, but I really wanted to do something completely different, especially since I am now working on my third and final collection of Sherlock Holmes stories, this time taking him into HP Lovecraft's Dreamlands, a wild ride to be sure.<div><br /></div><div>Quite some time ago, I wrote the opening paragraphs to a story titled "The Adventure of the Five Sherlocks." As is often the case with me, I had the opening and I had the final lines of the story, but everything in-between was a little vague. Had Kerry not emailed me, who knows how long my protagonists would have sat in that chamber after their monthly dinner wondering what was going to happen next? Kerry's request spurred me to finish it in a couple of months.</div><div><br /></div><div>The main characters are Basil Rathbone, Christopher Lee, Peter Cushing and Jeremy Brett, all actors known for, among other accomplishments, portraying the Immortal Detective on the screen. In case you're wondering, no, the story is not set in the past, when they were all contemporaries of each other, but, rather...later. Yes, I know they are all dead, but in the context of the story that really does not matter.</div><div><br /></div><div>While I admire all of them for their acting skills and the entertainment they brought me over the years, I must admit Basil Rathbone is my favorite Sherlock Holmes, and that bias probably shows in the story as events unfold. What can I say? We all remember our first as being the best--Sean Connery as Bond, Roger Moore as The Saint, David Suchet as Hercule Poirot, John Nettles as DCI Barnaby, and Basil Rathbone as Sherlock Holmes. </div><div><br /></div><div>The plot of the story is a bit "out there," but I don't want to go into it, lest too much be given away about the mysterious disappearance of Gaius Julius Caesar, the noblewoman who arrived with her barbarian bodyguards, and the mysterious girl who spoke an unknown language. Suffice it to say that it will entertain both Sherlock Holmes fans and movie buffs. If you want (should you decide to read it), you can even imagine the events of the story unfolding in glorious black and white, as the best films do.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am not alone in this special issue of <i>Mystery Magazine</i>. I am joined by sixteen others, all presenting new adventures of Sherlock Holmes. It is quite the value. If mysteries are your thing, you might want to consider a <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B01N4NJL91/" target="_blank">digital subscription</a> to the magazine, which will save you quite a bit.</div>Ralph E. Vaughanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06326668196800976578noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692638741373905099.post-56782071069751504022022-08-31T14:00:00.002-07:002022-08-31T14:00:32.795-07:00Godzilla, My Godzilla<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCBGWX7Paq8ov1WMD1WaKVl9e0WxZqhgLOB1OSXkAAxJic2uOjO-EZNN0YD_JjtDVXjhPivBMp2WkEF6C668e3wUW4P8uT7BmFB9QFRaIQR_ftNUQAVk-id22lkpmt6nH2vq1rukdTvTVkqeafYcAN5u0COlt2MqFZy_aFTtK9w-bOEQpi7QA94tai6g/s1653/godzilla54e.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1653" data-original-width="1100" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCBGWX7Paq8ov1WMD1WaKVl9e0WxZqhgLOB1OSXkAAxJic2uOjO-EZNN0YD_JjtDVXjhPivBMp2WkEF6C668e3wUW4P8uT7BmFB9QFRaIQR_ftNUQAVk-id22lkpmt6nH2vq1rukdTvTVkqeafYcAN5u0COlt2MqFZy_aFTtK9w-bOEQpi7QA94tai6g/s320/godzilla54e.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Godzilla and I have a lot in common. We were born the same year and are often misunderstood by the people around us. Additionally, we are both "big boned" (hefty or plus-sized as they say now), are prone to falls, and sometimes get hit in the head. Admittedly, though, for me it's not usually by skyscrapers, giant lobsters or boulders kicked by a rampaging dog-god, though Skylar did throw one of his chew toys at me a couple of weeks ago...yeah, it left a bruise. I also have not been dropped from the upper reaches of the stratosphere by flying alien three-headed dragon kaiju, but you just never know when things like that are going to happen. It's a crazy world these days.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Of course, there are differences too. Godzilla came from beneath the sea. I came from Michigan's Upper Peninsula, but still pretty close to the waters of the Great Lakes. He also has the form of a reptile, whereas I only have the emotions of one. His teeth are a lot better than mine, though I have had five wisdom teeth removed over the years...I still have three. So, while Godzilla has sturdy reptile teeth, I have the dodgy teeth of a geriatric shark, but only the wisdom teeth keep coming back. I suppose people who know me are surprised that I ever had wisdom teeth. Godzilla also has searing atomic breath that can (if the recent <i>Godzilla vs Kong</i> film from legendary is to be believed) burn a hole all the way through to the Hollow Earth. My breath, on the other hand...well, maybe we shouldn't go there. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Godzilla is famous worldwide, is the subject of the longest running film franchise, has become a cultural icon (and not just in Japan), and is considered a hero by many. For all that though, his origin is very dark, rooted in destruction and death. One day, Tomoyuki Tanaka, a film producer with Toho Company, Ltd, was flying back to Japan. Gazing out the window at the waters of the Pacific, he let his mind wander. What was in the impenetrable dark depths below? The year before, he had seen <i>The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms</i>, which was based on Ray Bradbury's story "The Fog Horn." Could something like that actually survive the<span style="text-align: left;"> ages? Maybe not, but what if there was something in the deeps that might be awakened? What would it take to rouse an avenging monster?</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfAo3cTLyXFluLHHQzIJXTLNsNJR3poJoGX5UKf1dGUoDfMgFeERZ4jl_KLfKzJN-wAnnm2v8eMHjc9vsUURq4nIS1a48-1YdN815Ywyv4CPBhUvt008O8FFSe4U6FHLzBrSyGMKe1S9GAT3EVt0WbRIbv2jRoxo30tM66DYCVdVRQduryb8kOm7dW_g/s357/Daigo_Fukuryu_Maru.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="296" data-original-width="357" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfAo3cTLyXFluLHHQzIJXTLNsNJR3poJoGX5UKf1dGUoDfMgFeERZ4jl_KLfKzJN-wAnnm2v8eMHjc9vsUURq4nIS1a48-1YdN815Ywyv4CPBhUvt008O8FFSe4U6FHLzBrSyGMKe1S9GAT3EVt0WbRIbv2jRoxo30tM66DYCVdVRQduryb8kOm7dW_g/s320/Daigo_Fukuryu_Maru.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Daigo_Fukury%C5%AB_Maru" target="_blank">The Lucky Dragon 5</a></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">Also in Tanaka's mind was the fate of the <i>Daigo Fukuryu Maru</i> (Lucky Dragon 5), a fishing vessel with a crew of 23, which was very much in the news. In March of that year, the U.S. detonated the first hydrogen bomb at the Bikini Atoll, an operation designated the Castle Bravo Thermonuclear Test. While fishing for tuna, the ship strayed near the danger zone and was contaminated by radioactive fallout. One man, the chief radioman, died later, but the other crew members recovered, at least for a while. The idea of a hidden underwater beast and the threat of the Atomic Age swirled in Tanaka's daydreams, and Godzilla emerged.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">I suppose I first saw <i>Godzilla: King of the Monsters</i> on television, perhaps on Moona Lisa's weekly (on Saturdays) <i>Science Fiction Theatre</i>. Who was Moona Lisa, you ask?</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3_sy3Vs_srqcAO8xVJjfCcYUH5K_7R3vaJ0Ljc0VdNx33sMGN7qHu6K4SwAZYo6O2qBFEUin6n7W4r1k5TdyDJdIxODO2dyWvvr3U6Z80Af6HjyMXszEJ2nLSeUXbPsz-1BmZcM2bQYO8bkAAZxXpUVFErlMAXZWsj-ImC9OaxsQttPGZ3dmTDPHMfA/s627/Moona2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="627" data-original-width="488" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3_sy3Vs_srqcAO8xVJjfCcYUH5K_7R3vaJ0Ljc0VdNx33sMGN7qHu6K4SwAZYo6O2qBFEUin6n7W4r1k5TdyDJdIxODO2dyWvvr3U6Z80Af6HjyMXszEJ2nLSeUXbPsz-1BmZcM2bQYO8bkAAZxXpUVFErlMAXZWsj-ImC9OaxsQttPGZ3dmTDPHMfA/s320/Moona2.jpg" width="249" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here's Moona Lisa with <br />Forrest J. Akerman<br />AKA Mr SciFi & the Akermonster</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">Moona Lisa, movie hostess, was actually Lisa Clark, a newscaster for KOGO (Channel 10) in San Diego, but I did not know that then. Seated amidst a pile of rocks in a dark lunar landscape, surrounded by roiling wisps of "moon smoke," she might have actually been on the Moon. Hey, no one had been there yet, so who was to say? And she did open every show with a sultry and seductive "Hello, Earthlings." If you see it on tv, it has to be true, right? With long, straight black banged hair, stiletto heels and a black catsuit showing more cleavage than any youngster then could imagine (it was a simple, more innocent and less complicated time), she was the "heartthrob of every ten-year-old boy in the city." And I loved her also because she also showed Godzilla.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">I always admired the way Godzilla faced the travails of life, never giving an inch, never compromising about anything, never bowing to any foe or surrendering to the inevitable. While I was graduating high school and preparing for the onslaught of a cold, uncaring world, Godzilla was battling Gigan, a bio-engineered killing machine with curved swords for arms and a massive circular saw protruding from his chest. Godzilla did well.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS9WQZ7ut88jxIg85-g6n35G4zoxaeaoaWEhppoaV3Mp-OgzC6SqhiJxhGzVXA4C57HECmabS3dvJABdoeDDFFP2rdBHvqTpEs2QTSvScaiAyM967TSluhqqKGez6QBqvZ73ztA1ibnVfMeId1z7qw14aSqqsQjCnnCgvJ0CccGXNaAPlHwWj1aIzGDA/s239/Gigan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="239" data-original-width="211" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS9WQZ7ut88jxIg85-g6n35G4zoxaeaoaWEhppoaV3Mp-OgzC6SqhiJxhGzVXA4C57HECmabS3dvJABdoeDDFFP2rdBHvqTpEs2QTSvScaiAyM967TSluhqqKGez6QBqvZ73ztA1ibnVfMeId1z7qw14aSqqsQjCnnCgvJ0CccGXNaAPlHwWj1aIzGDA/s1600/Gigan.jpg" width="211" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">When I turned 21 and could legally drink (actually I could have had a beer or whatever when I was 19 as long as I stayed on an Army post, but I didn't), Godzilla celebrated by kicking Mechagodzilla's butt for the second time. The old trope of fighting fire with fire just did not work out well for the robot's creators, but I could have told them that.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Turning 30 was bad for both of us. Some people tell me "age is just a number," but I also know there are a lot of delusional people in the world these days. I guess I take after my mother. I remember when she turned thirty. The house was filled with weeping and wailing, and I did my best to stay quiet and out of sight. Just a number, huh? I won't say that I spent the day crying over the end of the world, but I will admit I took the day off from work. And how did Godzilla celebrate his 30th birthday? He fell into an erupting volcano. Lucky guy. Obviously, I didn't die when I turned 30. I recall what my son said to me at the time: "Dad, you had to know that sooner or later you'd be 'over the hill.' You just didn't know there was a cliff on the other side." Harsh, but he did have a point. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Thirty years on, I turned 60 and so did Godzilla. I wanted to celebrate by having a birthday cake with candles, but we could not get a fire permit. The G-Man, however, celebrated in grand style, by staging a massive comeback in the Legendary film <i>Godzilla</i>, the first film by American filmmakers (we do not talk about the Matthew Broderick film) using the venerated Japanese kaiju. I had heard there might be a film in the offing as Godzilla's Diamond Jubilee approached, but I did not have much hope. Still, I wanted to commemorate it myself, so I wrote the following poem, which appeared in my collection <i>Midnight for </i><span style="text-align: left;"><i>Schrödinger's Cat & Other Poems</i>:</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Godzilla at Sixty</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The other kaiju on Monster Island look up, sigh, and shake their heads,</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And King Ghidorah gives it a triple nay;</div><div style="text-align: left;">There he goes again, off to Tokyo and points west</div><div style="text-align: left;">Like some trippy day-tripping tourist,</div><div style="text-align: left;">Dressed in the loudest Hawaiian shirt anyone’s ever seen,</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Picked up during that disastrous jaunt to the Big Apple,</div><div style="text-align: left;">With a new digital camera strapped ‘round his neck,</div><div style="text-align: left;">Raybans on those once laser-bright eyes,</div><div style="text-align: left;">But with back-spines not much more than a glimmer anymore;</div><div style="text-align: left;">Poor old fellow, taking off like he’s some young lizard just out of the egg,</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And on Bingo Night of all times!</div><div style="text-align: left;">Rodan says he’s going senile,</div><div style="text-align: left;">And while the Old Pterodactyl is pretty flighty himself, it’s painfully obvious to all:</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>He wasn’t quite the same after the Oxygen Destroyer; and</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>He’s been hit on the head by a lot of skyscrapers; and</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>How many times can you put new flesh on old bones?</div><div style="text-align: left;">He ought to take it easy like all the other Old Monsters,</div><div style="text-align: left;">Play a nice game of Go with Baragon, even though he toots his own horn,</div><div style="text-align: left;">Or Canasta with Gabara, Varan and Ebirah since they’re always in need of a fourth,</div><div style="text-align: left;">Or, if nothing else, curl up with a good book like Manda,</div><div style="text-align: left;">Though when you're a giant snake what else can you do?</div><div style="text-align: left;">But he does as he wants, as he always has, and always does,</div><div style="text-align: left;">Saying, “Ain’t I the King of the Monsters?” and</div><div style="text-align: left;">“It’s good to be the King,”</div><div style="text-align: left;">Which of course makes Junior do a face-palm on the throne</div><div style="text-align: left;">And say, “Hey, Dad, what am I—chopped sushi?”</div><div style="text-align: left;">But even he knows there’s no talking sense to the Old Boy,</div><div style="text-align: left;">Telling him that the tsunamis from his walker are making a mess,</div><div style="text-align: left;">That Cthulhu has called twice to complain about the noise,</div><div style="text-align: left;">That he won’t get nearly the screen time he thinks he will,</div><div style="text-align: left;">That he’s almost out of his radioactive arthritis medicine,</div><div style="text-align: left;">And he’s probably going to be slapped with a lawsuit by the EPA;</div><div style="text-align: left;">But, you know what, he’s smiling,</div><div style="text-align: left;">And it’s been too long since anyone has seen those choppers in a grin;</div><div style="text-align: left;">So maybe none of the other stuff really matters,</div><div style="text-align: left;">Not the pain or the slowness or the inevitable retaliation by puny Humanity;</div><div style="text-align: left;">Maybe what’s important is this—that the World knows,</div><div style="text-align: left;">That the World gets reminded by a ROAR like none other,</div><div style="text-align: left;">That he’s still the King of the Monsters,</div><div style="text-align: left;">And even at Sixty it’s good to be the King.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Of all the Godzilla films, including the latest ones from America, my favorite is <i>Godzilla vs Destroya</i>. It shows Godzilla in dire straits, yet striving forward no matter what, ignoring his impending doom to fight the menace loosed by the rediscovery of the Oxygen Destroyer technology from the very first film. We see that Dr Serizawa's sacrifice of his life to hide the secret was the right thing to do, but that it was for naught because of human stupidity. In this film, we see Godzilla making the same sacrifice to save us from ourselves, but we also see a great rebirth. The composer for this film stated that after he finished composing the music for the finale, he felt as if had died with Godzilla. I know what he means.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I have seen myself in Godzilla and sometimes see him in me, at least a little bit. I think perhaps there is something of Godzilla in all of us, something of us in him. There is at times a yearning to roar at the world. And who roars better than Godzilla?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">And now something on a lighter note, my latest model building project:</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidI_6pr2B5t3U0TUXNO7zMd9UjLyr0E3MQGHRJ3tCdoJjkpDIeHgwR5t-4e26Do-q-boPSsLFb5ML-tpJIjON7wUgaIS7j39p-gJKRFCOGSyP4ms462Rea1Nokw6hTe5_mQGeyybBqwMofA3hMDT7QsZ-FkAvIVw8ceAF2ucySZn-cNHU22CEDqyBDkg/s2304/IMG_2299.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1728" data-original-width="2304" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidI_6pr2B5t3U0TUXNO7zMd9UjLyr0E3MQGHRJ3tCdoJjkpDIeHgwR5t-4e26Do-q-boPSsLFb5ML-tpJIjON7wUgaIS7j39p-gJKRFCOGSyP4ms462Rea1Nokw6hTe5_mQGeyybBqwMofA3hMDT7QsZ-FkAvIVw8ceAF2ucySZn-cNHU22CEDqyBDkg/s320/IMG_2299.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; 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text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd8--Y_WeklZeBQEDPN7L_uTEVCyKpOh_qAmaO68F6J2OiX_GakFvwJZ4Pf2HTUsM7dOxJno_6XZFNyew4eGny85d-8wOX4g0D7TMIwi7iV3HssxOhU9x-5LlYxKqRe9sWfmPCQ2rBbFoBRN4Fs4tWPBwUzSt2cuXnfbOz9S7X4KHLcSJIQeN9hsj38Q/s2304/IMG_2359.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1728" data-original-width="2304" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd8--Y_WeklZeBQEDPN7L_uTEVCyKpOh_qAmaO68F6J2OiX_GakFvwJZ4Pf2HTUsM7dOxJno_6XZFNyew4eGny85d-8wOX4g0D7TMIwi7iV3HssxOhU9x-5LlYxKqRe9sWfmPCQ2rBbFoBRN4Fs4tWPBwUzSt2cuXnfbOz9S7X4KHLcSJIQeN9hsj38Q/s320/IMG_2359.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div></span></div><p></p>Ralph E. Vaughanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06326668196800976578noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692638741373905099.post-17191031214596774422022-08-11T12:13:00.000-07:002022-08-11T12:13:14.662-07:00Better the second time around<p style="text-align: justify;"> <table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJfp3ful302O23cv6MJ2m2N4nTltL30NgZ4x_dGv5mAyo8DVwCqMBhj45WIBfo7Vp8983XGM3x_l1Nc0X0EG_DsmP93-qZMI7YV-tvvKhbhBigRbrJdnFfcolVg3z_Spw94CUoZNe9UoAcKHWClVCcN0I-mU-0UPsava81lpLlMVfOXrq3nsEs9JgPQA/s1033/dunwich1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1033" data-original-width="636" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJfp3ful302O23cv6MJ2m2N4nTltL30NgZ4x_dGv5mAyo8DVwCqMBhj45WIBfo7Vp8983XGM3x_l1Nc0X0EG_DsmP93-qZMI7YV-tvvKhbhBigRbrJdnFfcolVg3z_Spw94CUoZNe9UoAcKHWClVCcN0I-mU-0UPsava81lpLlMVfOXrq3nsEs9JgPQA/s320/dunwich1.jpg" width="197" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beagle Horror edition</td></tr></tbody></table>It was the Sixties. As other young fellows my age were discovering girls, drugs and the realities of a changing age (and all the problems that went along with them), I was discovering the works of fantasy writer HP Lovecraft, <a href="https://bookscribbles.blogspot.com/2014/08/the-reincarnation-of-hp-lovecraft.html" target="_blank">thanks to a casual remark made by my Homeroom teacher, Mr Robert Vigil</a>. It was a providential introduction, as it turned out, giving focus to my own writing, which had edged unknowingly into Lovecraft territory. A few days later, I found myself at Pickwick's Bookstore in the College Grove Shopping Center (before there were "Malls") and came across the Beagle Horror editions of Lovecraft's work, including "The Dunwich Horror."</p><p style="text-align: justify;">One of the complaints I often hear about Lovecraft's stories concerns his writing style. Admittedly, there is nothing modern about it, not now, not even in his own time. Lovecraft wrote mostly in the early 20th Century (he passed away in 1937) so he was contemporaneous with Hemingway, Fitzgerald and Hammett. However, anyone unfamiliar with the milieu of Lovecraft's writing might think him a contemporary of Poe. Fortunately, I had been a Poe fan for many years, both of the stories and poems, and, later, the many films derived from his work. So, the form of the stories, the intricate narrative style and the breath-by-breath unfolding of the story as it worked to a shattering climax, was not a problem. What was a problem, however, was HPL's cosmic vision, his revelation of a universe inhabited by beings that cared nothing for humans, a cold cosmos we could never fathom, and the idea that humanity itself might be an accident or jape. It was heady stuff for a teenager.</p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEfBBs_1YYLi6JPgZBbDUmiNmJ7kUKZ6h8md5vsViBQOzGVtLXk3i3n_YNgXHsgDQ2xinT5mB4bXQOcRCicKOiI6HIPdxDZc9APVfBkzotCYL5QQCHCy61OCD-g5EPiikdEsqvsyg-EdEs6QUmHpkAr91e7jinzG0_-KLwlR9wcLHshqYi6vhF1pcWjw/s392/Dunwich_Horror%2001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="392" data-original-width="259" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEfBBs_1YYLi6JPgZBbDUmiNmJ7kUKZ6h8md5vsViBQOzGVtLXk3i3n_YNgXHsgDQ2xinT5mB4bXQOcRCicKOiI6HIPdxDZc9APVfBkzotCYL5QQCHCy61OCD-g5EPiikdEsqvsyg-EdEs6QUmHpkAr91e7jinzG0_-KLwlR9wcLHshqYi6vhF1pcWjw/s320/Dunwich_Horror%2001.jpg" width="211" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">movie poster, 1970</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><p style="text-align: justify;">Anyway, a few years passed and I learned that a film was going to be made from "The Dunwich Horror." I was quite excited. I've been a film fan all my life starting when I was in Kindergarten and walked to the <a href="https://bookscribbles.blogspot.com/2019/11/since-our-daughter-is-no-longer-with-us.html" target="_blank">Bay Theater</a> in National City with the girls who lived across the street...it was a different world back then. One the sayings the Kidette and I have is, "Everything I need to know about anything, I learned from the movies or TV." Another saying I have, usually stated when contemplating doing something I probably shouldn't be doing is "No, I saw that film, and it did not end well." Often, the Kidette and I will converse solely in movie quotes, which drives many people nuts.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Anyway, the film was coming out in 1970, produced by American International. I had high hopes for it because I had seen the film <i>The Haunted Palace</i>, starring Vincent Price and directed by <a href="https://bookscribbles.blogspot.com/2022/04/a-novel-for-for-roger-corman.html" target="_blank">Roger Corman.</a> Though the title was taken from a Poe poem and the film is considered one of his eight Poe-related films, the plot is actually derived from Lovecraft's "The Case of Charles Dexter Ward" and is very faithful to the novella, which was written in 1927, though not published until 1941 in <i>Weird Tales</i>. Since the film had been distributed by American International, which was producing the new film, I hoped "The Dunwich Horror" would exhibit the same fidelity to its source material. Alas, I was disappointed.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">The film, directed by Daniel Haller (<i>Pit & the Pendulum; Die, Monster, Die!</i>) from a script by Curtis Hanson (<i>Never Cry Wolf, LA Confidential</i>) was deliberately recast into the turbulent Seventies. In doing so, writer and director defused much of the atmosphere of the story. Worse, they introduced a love interest (Sandra Dee as Nancy Wagner) for the loathsome and repulsive Wilbur Whateley (played by the non-loathsome and non-repulsive Dean Stockwell). It hit many of the tropes of the counterculture, including several extended psychedelic sequences, but did not include the brooding atmosphere of a decrepit town and the creeping horror that Lovecraft introduced though subtle hints and reveals about Wilbur Whateley's twin brother, who favored the father much more than did Wilbur.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">The only characters in the film that struck the right note for me was Dr Henry Armitage (Ed Begley in his last role) and, to a certain extent, Sam Jaffee, who played "Old Whateley," though in the story he was "Wizard Whateley" and was a much more manic, imposing and demonic character. An interesting point to note in the 2009 remake of <i>The Dunwich Horror</i> (<i>The Darkest Evil </i>[or <i>Witches</i>] for the SyFy Channel), Dean Stockwell was back, this time as Dr Armitage, his adversary from the first film. I did not like the Haller/Hanson adaptation, and put it out of my mind for 52 years.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">However, a few weeks ago, when I was home alone and looking for something to stream (we cut the cable years ago), I saw <i>The Dunwich Horror</i> offered on one of the streaming services. Things change with time, not the film, of course, but ourselves, our perceptions of things, and the times in which we live, which we have to adapt to, whether we like it or not. I found the film, for the most part, not as bad as I recalled. It was, of course, the same film, but I was no longer the dark-eyed fanboy who expected a faithful adaptation of the work.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">At the time, I gave the film an F. Now, I give it a B-, a nice effort to modernize something that really did not need to be modernized. I had greater appreciation of the psychedelic sequences as an attempt to show a reality that could not be described, and the climax in which we saw the best FX that could be had in the pre-CGI Seventies. Many of the Seventies tropes (e.g., "What do you think of sex?") have not aged well, so have gone from hip and edgy to just dull and dated. Overall, though, I think the film is fairly respectful to the source material, if not very faithful. Over the years, I have learned you have to put up with such things, and even expect them, <a href="https://bookscribbles.blogspot.com/2022/07/the-book-wasdifferent.html" target="_blank">from Hollywood</a>.</p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR42x5OOiiq5Iriok9aveRdKyiQk1u4vTB4VX8w6482-z95kILKtJ34P9y9CQQpQawN5qY7QkuMfDnhh63DEm5sVGdQEZ2sojQ56RdAjNWL28T7jQOWjXDWrKznXFwTxE_hOL0_YE7ReAtXZDo49gyv1jzPDK0rZXGq4JPdxwIfXNL8BhJ8--H2uXSjQ/s979/dunwich-horror.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="837" data-original-width="979" height="274" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR42x5OOiiq5Iriok9aveRdKyiQk1u4vTB4VX8w6482-z95kILKtJ34P9y9CQQpQawN5qY7QkuMfDnhh63DEm5sVGdQEZ2sojQ56RdAjNWL28T7jQOWjXDWrKznXFwTxE_hOL0_YE7ReAtXZDo49gyv1jzPDK0rZXGq4JPdxwIfXNL8BhJ8--H2uXSjQ/s320/dunwich-horror.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An illustration from Weird Tales, 1929</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFBql__6m7d4FdBEvveYNBu6A93ncgb2bfUOVGUZPp-3zJ0Mef_8npY4UuGooANewIYtQiuojHq6fZ1jTx-QuwvEmN7KmggjQRAuBOt9rO_7Bbz9YFw_EwVY61oECrBS0htvakp_BzR1c3XUOnQtfGuba6huWj-poZNCxxsqolwko3e_F6j7LtmjQQhQ/s301/Dunwich_first.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="301" data-original-width="200" height="301" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFBql__6m7d4FdBEvveYNBu6A93ncgb2bfUOVGUZPp-3zJ0Mef_8npY4UuGooANewIYtQiuojHq6fZ1jTx-QuwvEmN7KmggjQRAuBOt9rO_7Bbz9YFw_EwVY61oECrBS0htvakp_BzR1c3XUOnQtfGuba6huWj-poZNCxxsqolwko3e_F6j7LtmjQQhQ/s1600/Dunwich_first.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Arkham House edition</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>Ralph E. Vaughanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06326668196800976578noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692638741373905099.post-34117234701255464722022-07-06T15:59:00.003-07:002022-07-06T15:59:27.129-07:00The Book was...Different<p> All of us who love both movies and books have made the comment at one time or another: "The book was better than the film." This usually happens when we hear that a book we really like is getting the Hollywood Treatment. Simultaneously, we are excited and terrified. Will the film be as good as the book? Will it contain everything we loved about the book? Of course, these days, when Hollywood (and other film capitals) seem intent on trashing the past, trampling on our beloved franchises, and fusing propaganda and entertainment, we often wonder, "Will the film be <i>anything</i> like the book?" Of course, we don't really need a struggling NWO to trample on books. Hollywood has been doing that for years.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKUHxsrniMp9GU88DP2pBevlgFl1qOUxqqzGOl5EqiFNDai6w0zcOi18o0N2mvuedXbBN56yvFiesobQ1DIMpPrgGmKD4kiJ3jvV74f-z7HZ7YXqZ2yynuREUCxZ8XH3Q0raCEJRMbCV4SWxKTdM-uhv4P81gFsJKsCGkg4sN7SG6cUuValYrH2EcVYA/s1500/WWZ%20Movie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="1057" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKUHxsrniMp9GU88DP2pBevlgFl1qOUxqqzGOl5EqiFNDai6w0zcOi18o0N2mvuedXbBN56yvFiesobQ1DIMpPrgGmKD4kiJ3jvV74f-z7HZ7YXqZ2yynuREUCxZ8XH3Q0raCEJRMbCV4SWxKTdM-uhv4P81gFsJKsCGkg4sN7SG6cUuValYrH2EcVYA/w141-h200/WWZ%20Movie.jpg" width="141" /></a></div>I recall when the film <i>World War Z </i>was released. One review I read after its debut stated, "The film has everything you loved about the book's...title." At that time, I had not read the book, so I did not understand exactly what he meant. When I finally read the book, I understood. The film was forgettable overall, but I remember it had Brad Pitt in it and was shot in every exotic location willing to give the filmmakers a tax break. Alas, no underwater zombies or epic battles, just bland characters, silly situations and a quick fix to the world's end. Prior to penning <i>World War Z: An Oral History of the Zombie War</i>, Max Brooks wrote the satirical, yet extremely practical <i>The Zombie Survival Guide</i>, which I keep on the nightstand next to my bed...you know, just in case.<div><br /></div><div>Not long after I read the survival guide, I had occasion to summon the police to help with a car parked across my driveway. That morning, I had had to drive the Wife's car down the sidewalk till I could pull onto the street so she would not be late for jury duty. When the officer arrived, he saw the problem and called a tow truck...as it turned out, the guy who drunkenly parked there had just got his car out of impound because it had been towed after blocking another driveway. While we were waiting for the tow truck, the officer noted I had a new driveway gate up by the house. He commented on how well built it looked, an improvement on the old gate it had replaced. I told him, "Well, yes, it is well built, but it won't hold off anything worse than a Zombie Level 1 siege." Without a pause, he replied, "Hopefully, it won't come to that, and perhaps the Zombie Apocalypse will pass Chula Vista altogether." Ah, ya gotta love the officers of the CVPD.</div><div><br /></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6b08YDr2a0cy7cWGw9mWzurUs6A6ST_XO426e0UD4OwCS7rEzRYRgPjIwWvpZa0_aczErMwvxTYik0ggK3UdyqLTxuQcMbOvCeTZaxK9abZHWL2JWkt1baqujJMyfTsuPn3TzAuN7uxuwdsB9y7_WpZt_wJjnwkG5cF_D5rnpR3LYJn4FkmNwNFg4Bg/s3000/The_Day_the_Earth_Stood_Still_(1951_poster).jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="1986" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6b08YDr2a0cy7cWGw9mWzurUs6A6ST_XO426e0UD4OwCS7rEzRYRgPjIwWvpZa0_aczErMwvxTYik0ggK3UdyqLTxuQcMbOvCeTZaxK9abZHWL2JWkt1baqujJMyfTsuPn3TzAuN7uxuwdsB9y7_WpZt_wJjnwkG5cF_D5rnpR3LYJn4FkmNwNFg4Bg/w133-h200/The_Day_the_Earth_Stood_Still_(1951_poster).jpeg" width="133" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><i>The Day the Earth Stood Still</i> (1951) was a film that had quite an impact on me as a kid. Of course, I did not see it when it first came out, but did around 1959 or so. At the time I just accepted how it was portrayed on the small screen, and said "Klaatu barada nikto" ("Klaatu dead. Repair him. Do not retaliate") like everyone else who lives and dies by film quotes. It was not until years later that I discovered the basis of the film was a 1940 short story entitled "Farewell to the Master" by Harry Bates. It appeared in the October 1940 issue of <i>Astounding Science Fiction </i>(now <i>Analog-Science Fiction/Science Fact</i>), but I did not come across it till much later, in a 1994 Barnes & Noble anthology, <i>Reel Future</i> edited by Forrest J. Ackerman & Jean Stine. What do the story and film have in common? Not a lot, really. <div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj89NI03oD-THnmPrrfFOIt8ypGFVVIOLDg4f8wR99kHP-1ykUpUPI7stHmJmg1SzhWiJaP0S6OVBD0YoYnn6HHow7Dav-a186rCns1pNbD-2X5ZNVuAT8Cxk7CTXWjx2WUcy0cQfJ7d5R7dFI2Vzwcd-cLULzrZ84Bvgup2u9d1gf3cGc4Tyw0kyZNSA/s818/TDTESS%20orig%20mag1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="818" data-original-width="640" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj89NI03oD-THnmPrrfFOIt8ypGFVVIOLDg4f8wR99kHP-1ykUpUPI7stHmJmg1SzhWiJaP0S6OVBD0YoYnn6HHow7Dav-a186rCns1pNbD-2X5ZNVuAT8Cxk7CTXWjx2WUcy0cQfJ7d5R7dFI2Vzwcd-cLULzrZ84Bvgup2u9d1gf3cGc4Tyw0kyZNSA/w156-h200/TDTESS%20orig%20mag1.jpg" width="156" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br />A spaceship (not a flying saucer) lands outside the Capitol in Washington DC, an alien named Klaatu emerges with a giant robot (Gort in the film, Gnut in the story), and Klaatu is shot. In the story, he dies, his body is placed in a mausoleum and the robot stands unmoving. In the film, the wound is not fatal, Klaatu hides in the general population and story goes from there, eventually ending as a warning against the Earth about the use of nuclear weapons. It's a well-made film, but it's really just a message film, tying its impact into a theme that was more important then than it is now. The story, however, is an "idea story," like many of the stories that emerged from <i>Astounding SF</i> in the 30s and 40s. The precipitating events (the landing and Klaatu's death) happen years prior to the start of the story, and we first see Gnut through the eyes of a reporter who, at night, sneaks into the museum built around the motionless 8-foot-tall humanoid robot. There, he sees the robot move, enter the ship and attempt to reconstruct Klaatu from a recording. The recording is flawed, so the new Klaatu dies (again) and the reporter provides a flawless recording so the robot can use it back home to bring Klaatu back to a stable life. Just before the robot heads back to the stars, the reporter asks him to tell his master, the new Klaatu, that the death was a terrible accident. The robot's reply: "You misunderstand. <i style="font-weight: bold;">I </i>am the master."</div></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioo-H8mtETNoCHZ5fL_aq3F0omhWyEsKdK6Jg8SMJzg_nINoTzYrV8mGUS8Bn2fjjGXwq3-WKX8HH6G9w1d2kOJB1aGER-pITeZ4B0F5o6rcRSwDiv19GA6LoZK6j3J_B8mdf2ER3UnnG1au9XciVR8l_vf7ib4PU2ZLG5cMWuF3bGOvLH9_iYpKrL5w/s465/thing%20orig%20ovie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="465" data-original-width="310" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioo-H8mtETNoCHZ5fL_aq3F0omhWyEsKdK6Jg8SMJzg_nINoTzYrV8mGUS8Bn2fjjGXwq3-WKX8HH6G9w1d2kOJB1aGER-pITeZ4B0F5o6rcRSwDiv19GA6LoZK6j3J_B8mdf2ER3UnnG1au9XciVR8l_vf7ib4PU2ZLG5cMWuF3bGOvLH9_iYpKrL5w/w133-h200/thing%20orig%20ovie.jpg" width="133" /></a></div><i>The Thing from Another World</i> was another film that made an impression on me. Unlike <i>The Day the Earth Stood Still</i>, I did not see this one till much later in life, probably in my mid- to late-teens. As I watched it, I felt a strange sense of familiarity. I watched the scientists at an Arctic research station find a flying saucer that had been buried under the ice for a long time. I got a little chill as I saw them arranged in a perfect circle around the spaceship's circumference. Of course, I knew all about flying saucers because I was heavily into studying them, something that had fascinated me ever since seeing a circular craft in the night sky when I was about nine or so. When the scientists found the pilot frozen in ice and brought it inside the research station, the reason for the familiarity finally struck me--it was the same plot as a 1938 story called "Who Goes There?" by Don A. Stuart (John W. Campbell Jr). I settled back to watch the story I knew so well unfold...and was thoroughly disappointed. <div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ56Ad0Hkv8XuOmF4hLi6-JkKOL5dowHEgPJn7hQcK9NHd1dCL8izSMa3mHQmyZqiX8FDiRfOoMxhgXcNCIf6Tmpq_ap1AG9IALL5CtYH44bL0CNi7_N1kj3i7FgsvCVFoatoZCR6SVbb_FT-OGpP0bmthfZInNpfIAQ7LhIvSUFz3dlMsVBjZL_z1VQ/s1494/Who-Goes-there-Astounding-Magazine-August-1938.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1189" data-original-width="1494" height="255" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ56Ad0Hkv8XuOmF4hLi6-JkKOL5dowHEgPJn7hQcK9NHd1dCL8izSMa3mHQmyZqiX8FDiRfOoMxhgXcNCIf6Tmpq_ap1AG9IALL5CtYH44bL0CNi7_N1kj3i7FgsvCVFoatoZCR6SVbb_FT-OGpP0bmthfZInNpfIAQ7LhIvSUFz3dlMsVBjZL_z1VQ/s320/Who-Goes-there-Astounding-Magazine-August-1938.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div>Now, don't get me wrong. The film is well-written, well acted and the photography is superb, but it is the story of a blood-drinking vegetable that ends up getting fried. In the story, the alien is a protean predator, highly intelligent and intent on getting out of the Arctic where it can use its shapeshifting powers and ability to reproduce asexually to displace humanity. The film's strength was in producing a claustrophobic horror, much as we experienced in the film <i>Alien</i>, which was based on an uncredited story by A.E. van Vogt. In the story, the focus is on paranoia. Because of its powers and intelligence, the alien can be anyone, from the sled dog to the fellow sitting next to you. I have always held the opinion, if you are going to base a film on a story, film that story, not something that is nothing like the story. Otherwise, just come up with an original script. Now, this was not the end of "Who Goes There?" and Hollywood, because it served as the basis for John Carpenter's 1982 <i>The Thing.</i> In this version, they get the creature's powers correct (very graphically), but the film...well, most people seemed to like it.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkHzugn3T7cInZDYUrKLXrWrzaJtdoBPPr8X1Q74NPsgtxfG9CcCQS_7HEI3fYMQw8XqZBsauxQ6mDlO-wKqc3Lm5gUNa3GnXxINqEpqd-Pl6SyVFWhc2f4XAMlmFV3AyGXvK_eJ0UTbz_nZSQWCYCcu-Azht_vZjCcvSYBmb2Rk-3Ti-uzko7cGHdFA/s288/moonraker%20orig%2002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="288" data-original-width="175" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkHzugn3T7cInZDYUrKLXrWrzaJtdoBPPr8X1Q74NPsgtxfG9CcCQS_7HEI3fYMQw8XqZBsauxQ6mDlO-wKqc3Lm5gUNa3GnXxINqEpqd-Pl6SyVFWhc2f4XAMlmFV3AyGXvK_eJ0UTbz_nZSQWCYCcu-Azht_vZjCcvSYBmb2Rk-3Ti-uzko7cGHdFA/s1600/moonraker%20orig%2002.jpg" width="175" /></a></div>There's really no end to the number of films that wasted its source material, but I especially wanted to mention 1979's <i>Moonraker</i>, the 11th film in the James Bond franchise, and one of the worst films in that franchise, though it has stiff competition from <i>Quantum of Solace, Spectre </i> and (most especially) <i>No Time to Die</i>. The odd thing about Ian Feming's <i>Moonraker</i> is that it is one of the best books in the series. What do the film and the book have in common? A title. That's all. What's different between the book and film? Everything. The moronic and insulting film is so vastly different that instead of re-issuing the standard movie tie-in of the original book, it was decided to hire Christopher Wood to write a novelization of his own insipid screenplay, though the title of the book was <i>James Bond and Moonraker</i>. It was claimed that the filmmakers did not moviegoers to be confused by the differences between the two. Personally, I think they did not want anyone to see how much better Fleming's book was than the film, which, somehow, went on to become the highest grossing film of the series until the superior <i>Goldeneye</i> came along. Just in case you wondered--no, I really did not like the film <i>Moonraker</i>.<div><br /></div><div>Well, I hope enjoyed looking at some films that wasted their source stories. There are a lot more, and you probably have your own favorites. Now, that's not to say that there are not films that showed respect and fidelity to their source books. I can think of several. Hopefully, we'll get a change to take a look at a few of them.</div><div><br /><div><br /><div><br /></div></div></div>Ralph E. Vaughanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06326668196800976578noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692638741373905099.post-57619030794067873862022-06-07T13:28:00.000-07:002022-06-07T13:28:26.450-07:00Metaluna Mutant<p style="text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8gKO1BCno1yMRlI3bUxIcJA7MEQEREVaxIKOuupuv9z-jsxr7oq68gcUW0NwiujhMG1E85lJxiIQhr53OR8MLkSgMRuiis7I_WjPQIVG6yNd3RpnJOgxMQp9NtcFW82okczcCIzRPK8oDfW3oh0nz9CrdUaD7V_1dTANKvUtgwxg2lENWPobvZfbTJw/s475/519GMS9MA9L.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="475" data-original-width="345" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8gKO1BCno1yMRlI3bUxIcJA7MEQEREVaxIKOuupuv9z-jsxr7oq68gcUW0NwiujhMG1E85lJxiIQhr53OR8MLkSgMRuiis7I_WjPQIVG6yNd3RpnJOgxMQp9NtcFW82okczcCIzRPK8oDfW3oh0nz9CrdUaD7V_1dTANKvUtgwxg2lENWPobvZfbTJw/s320/519GMS9MA9L.jpg" width="232" /></a></div>I know I saw the film <i>This Island Earth</i> in a theater, probably the <a href="https://bookscribbles.blogspot.com/2019/11/since-our-daughter-is-no-longer-with-us.html" target="_blank">Bay Theater</a> in National City, but since it came out in 1955, it must have been re-released sometime prior to 1963. It's a very good film, one of my favorites, despite the rather simplistic plot that, in the end, goes the only place it could go--nowhere but where fate dictated. Unlike other films of the period, it's not as dated as it might be, possibly because it's set almost entirely within a secluded conclave of scientists and on the planet Metaluna. Neither setting provides interaction with the then-current US society, the main reasons films lose relevance as audiences change. For example, <i>Godzilla</i> (1954) is still a relevant film (I don't think the modern Godzillas from Legendary will fare as well) because the focus is on the monster not the people, whereas <i>The Giant Gila Monster</i> (1959) is a dated rock-and-roll curiosity piece with a big lizard thrown in, though I still find it enjoyable, the b&w version more than the colorized bastardization.<p></p><p style="text-align: justify;">The film is taken from the novel <i>This Island Earth</i> by Raymond F. Jones. Though the book was published in 1952 by early SF publisher Shasta, it actually appeared in SF pulp magazine <i>Thrilling Wonder Stories</i> as three separate novelettes: "The Alien Machine" (June 1949), "The Shroud of Secrecy" (December 1949) and "The Greater Conflict" (February 1950). Though the film and the book follow the same plotline from the beginning, with physicist Cal Meacham receiving a strange machine to build, followed by an invitation to a secret scientific society and a ride in a robot-plane, they diverge widely at that point. The book continues almost as a mystery novel as the purpose of the society is explored and we find a great interstellar war is raging around the Earth, that the Llannans (as the aliens are called in the book) as using Earth just as US and Japanese forces used small Pacific islands during WW2...the inhabitants could not understand the nature of the conflict, but they could be used to build things, airfields in the case of the island natives, "interociter" machines in the case of the shanghaied scientists. It explains the title of the book, an allusion omitted from the film.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeGFSIkHkc37sGvOfLtymlvGOz_IijceRmlTgDXnP-5SsNJ64yFTLKH7Xw3vogw7MOTo24U5FN5zq-mMG2-wGeBxpEQMfZrN4IRTpws5WIIpqtalhPSkvLkpEGLvb5YEfLr13_p7kohOZlQxlGZcaHqVw5s_Qo89vt4HDgq2FNLsmeNLhDQNwgfO2MMw/s590/68-4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="590" data-original-width="420" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeGFSIkHkc37sGvOfLtymlvGOz_IijceRmlTgDXnP-5SsNJ64yFTLKH7Xw3vogw7MOTo24U5FN5zq-mMG2-wGeBxpEQMfZrN4IRTpws5WIIpqtalhPSkvLkpEGLvb5YEfLr13_p7kohOZlQxlGZcaHqVw5s_Qo89vt4HDgq2FNLsmeNLhDQNwgfO2MMw/s320/68-4.jpg" width="228" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Dec 1949 issue of TWS<br />"The Shroud of Secrecy,"<br />2nd in Jones' trilogy</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjmXReECEBVoq7fu4VTKHzS2plP9tJERPOuviCD0C3cTrWBsU1gwdqiLTDKVJiTm35MQy162s1IkxnDnysX-7_-ve1_vUCetrDdqCvF-9FxogY79U_0AFCqC7j7VVonL2doeytzPZlTQe7GA5p-vHsN8vF3WPUDpBME4ykyWc2wM0LvEPsc2J5uRTOiA/s322/This_island_earth%20book%2001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="322" data-original-width="220" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjmXReECEBVoq7fu4VTKHzS2plP9tJERPOuviCD0C3cTrWBsU1gwdqiLTDKVJiTm35MQy162s1IkxnDnysX-7_-ve1_vUCetrDdqCvF-9FxogY79U_0AFCqC7j7VVonL2doeytzPZlTQe7GA5p-vHsN8vF3WPUDpBME4ykyWc2wM0LvEPsc2J5uRTOiA/s320/This_island_earth%20book%2001.jpg" width="219" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shasta's first edition of the novel, a very<br />minimalist design; the re-issue used the movie<br />poster as a basis for the art. </td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p style="text-align: justify;">The film, which was released as a double-feature with ("sigh") <i>Abbott & Costello Meet the Mummy</i> did fairly well at the box office, earning $1,700,000, and good reviews from critics who praised the literate script and special effects. While the film still holds a favorable rating with fans and film historians, it took an undeserved hit when it was lampooned in <i>Mystery Science Theater 3000: The Movie</i>. Well, I never cared that much for the series anyway The book was mostly well-received, though some reviewers (notably Kirkus) thought there were too many loose ends left hanging and too much "labor baiting" by the author. The film is available on DVD/Blue Ray, though you can catch is on broadcast TV sometimes or watch it on YouTube. The book has been out of print for a long time, but is now available, like a lot of older writings, as an e-book. A print version of the story was included in the 1994 anthology <i>Reel Futures</i> published by Barnes & Noble Books, a very interesting collection I should highlight in the near future.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqRkzDgdAeKx96tgmj61l3Gjw7E-DrFv36ZoTBEgCXOmqF26GK9OirvsNNjkkifItI58xQa0rLIWztjT-SLcke92pc2_sg1CWdgq2CThf1-eM9vX2NF8K4oaOj-vXMytdKHVLzgvef4KTxxtjuVcQ3kSa0CKEt7ICQTiHd14nQSrZFCwoDGKoxFQOjAw/s728/113299-1__26104.1643308271.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="728" data-original-width="728" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqRkzDgdAeKx96tgmj61l3Gjw7E-DrFv36ZoTBEgCXOmqF26GK9OirvsNNjkkifItI58xQa0rLIWztjT-SLcke92pc2_sg1CWdgq2CThf1-eM9vX2NF8K4oaOj-vXMytdKHVLzgvef4KTxxtjuVcQ3kSa0CKEt7ICQTiHd14nQSrZFCwoDGKoxFQOjAw/s320/113299-1__26104.1643308271.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Metaluna Mutant Model from Atlantis</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p style="text-align: justify;">So, you ask, why bring up a 70-year-old film (and book) that most people have not seen or read, other than because I have odd tastes. Well, one of my favorite aspects of the film (other than seeing an airplane in flight snatched by a flying saucer...true facts!) is the Mutant engineered by the Metalunans (as the aliens are called in the film) as slave labor. It was designed by makeup artist Bud Westmore (uncle of Michael Westmore of <i>Star Trek</i> fame). Even today, it remains an effective design, though the final project did not quite match Westmore's original concept...the limitations of the human body are so annoying. Originally, the Mutant's legs were supposed to match the arms.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOfaniB_Wpzqd7mLs4Lsj-XCoehpYRlLdhpHAc5iDtvdtt_YEU7qpg0pjRzKuCClPL-1OWDOxbT5Z60hf_GauFRdbcZBwiobVH8koflczxvEX-PxtkIG-RsZs3hOsolnRn9ul2Lik9_AVxgbXwG3CUeA5QiIgVMutpkwfCmm_00sWfcEn4UNVEfbpdgw/s1000/atlanmutantback.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="991" data-original-width="1000" height="317" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOfaniB_Wpzqd7mLs4Lsj-XCoehpYRlLdhpHAc5iDtvdtt_YEU7qpg0pjRzKuCClPL-1OWDOxbT5Z60hf_GauFRdbcZBwiobVH8koflczxvEX-PxtkIG-RsZs3hOsolnRn9ul2Lik9_AVxgbXwG3CUeA5QiIgVMutpkwfCmm_00sWfcEn4UNVEfbpdgw/s320/atlanmutantback.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Back of the box showing finished model</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p style="text-align: justify;">Atlantis Toy & Model Company, one of the few US model companies remaining, issued a 1/12 scale model of the Mutant from the film. Yes, I had to get it. If there are any model builders, or former ones, this might strike a familiar note. That's because the Aurora Model Company was going to issue Mr Mutant as part of their "Famous Monsters of Film" series, joining Frankenstein, the Mummy and the Wolfman. The dies were cut, but, unfortunately, it didn't happen, and the company went under shortly afterward. From this point on, it's just going to be pictures from my model build, in which I took some liberties with color (because I could) and added a lobby card to replace the b&w graphic provided for the clapboard, so if you're not interested in models, thanks for reading this far. I really appreciate your interest and support. Do find time to watch the film or read the book.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiorAUj9xoomA-_ASX44KVZmm6NgRZVGNjfZLdgWbnjiIKMuJ4dpaS7bufanfwHpmdp7-zdiuPJkILPUSXwCtDJMbkxtDjjSJ8g5M1h-LD7CnYuMqaBS8_KBCakaZWNKAtwebOBaDFY--fgvjcoUQFINQwtH8pxRLu-NVFzj9cXyvN4XL4NUdCEdtWVSg/s2048/IMG_2184.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiorAUj9xoomA-_ASX44KVZmm6NgRZVGNjfZLdgWbnjiIKMuJ4dpaS7bufanfwHpmdp7-zdiuPJkILPUSXwCtDJMbkxtDjjSJ8g5M1h-LD7CnYuMqaBS8_KBCakaZWNKAtwebOBaDFY--fgvjcoUQFINQwtH8pxRLu-NVFzj9cXyvN4XL4NUdCEdtWVSg/s320/IMG_2184.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The base: ivory top, dark blue background, with gold<br />atomic sigil; lobby card (remember those?) added by me.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7whYV1zIhhPuj4fE-NV4L6eF7UjRR2ksJprlT-pJJd0U6HW_7e736uGTmS3D5dIJjO6Ih1FmKlsmgb44j830faPXwrkKwSPBGsEIbLhY2H2lQuZN_uK2n8cRsGMo0VHv5NfoMgzBsY0uG8vJ2jPQqPhkli5YH0QyJTKcdI1iK2SZaGIOHIgAzQ2wy5A/s2048/IMG_2187.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7whYV1zIhhPuj4fE-NV4L6eF7UjRR2ksJprlT-pJJd0U6HW_7e736uGTmS3D5dIJjO6Ih1FmKlsmgb44j830faPXwrkKwSPBGsEIbLhY2H2lQuZN_uK2n8cRsGMo0VHv5NfoMgzBsY0uG8vJ2jPQqPhkli5YH0QyJTKcdI1iK2SZaGIOHIgAzQ2wy5A/s320/IMG_2187.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Close up of lobby card.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_UjMGIbjSGE0ktlXe3DjGCzeXKyW-ui7-L9QvaD7ymKSPktTBnrKqvKZIRRNMs3u_7Y1CvlwDLhKkTg8-Edhn3sUyGtkXnLoGGfwGwCpdR2t1KUj0baYSGm5p6gzVRGl7msCro5GYRTiC2sLBHM2784jb6FPLeAI8Lan1gUx0ynluhk4WKpwtZOhm1w/s2048/IMG_2192.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_UjMGIbjSGE0ktlXe3DjGCzeXKyW-ui7-L9QvaD7ymKSPktTBnrKqvKZIRRNMs3u_7Y1CvlwDLhKkTg8-Edhn3sUyGtkXnLoGGfwGwCpdR2t1KUj0baYSGm5p6gzVRGl7msCro5GYRTiC2sLBHM2784jb6FPLeAI8Lan1gUx0ynluhk4WKpwtZOhm1w/s320/IMG_2192.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"It's alive! It's alive!"</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyDu8UnuHHII4nTmHRTw-2AyiB7zIgBxlS1oMXZAYf8Ex3nEzyBSUFmsBdCa9_npUilweIX0Om_XkIVn2dFweQtzozCyRmrsK8Ak38La9BPbTBWdg9o5gXVaCmTLYyNTw44Ok5T-bhta8vUen3wfufhKASPiy2vZ_tyaJuSYCCyqIi6Jf0Zy8AFvoekg/s2048/IMG_2195.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyDu8UnuHHII4nTmHRTw-2AyiB7zIgBxlS1oMXZAYf8Ex3nEzyBSUFmsBdCa9_npUilweIX0Om_XkIVn2dFweQtzozCyRmrsK8Ak38La9BPbTBWdg9o5gXVaCmTLYyNTw44Ok5T-bhta8vUen3wfufhKASPiy2vZ_tyaJuSYCCyqIi6Jf0Zy8AFvoekg/s320/IMG_2195.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">For the trousers, I used Vallejo Acrylic's Wood & Leather<br />Paint Set to create "light leather," a mix of Dark Sand/Japanese<br />Uniform with washes of Flat Earth and Smoke, then Dark Sand <br />again for highlight. All painted areas were first covered with <br />Vallejo USN Ghost Grey Surface Primer.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1jny8mRGdfqIixBdWNrFQMzCtMciPUTQACGu5njGilDAwyd4SUBzqxoqXbBwgjc0G0Zu8vShqnW8JNG8I59iJxpifO_ypD6x1DoQfyc34xv1rfb2CwaVENCCIR2aI6RAm8U5ElQAhWB93FL5_LU4ADGIP3oAGdmj0CseyTfHlxPbZ38hy52twUvHoAw/s3456/IMG_2200.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="3456" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1jny8mRGdfqIixBdWNrFQMzCtMciPUTQACGu5njGilDAwyd4SUBzqxoqXbBwgjc0G0Zu8vShqnW8JNG8I59iJxpifO_ypD6x1DoQfyc34xv1rfb2CwaVENCCIR2aI6RAm8U5ElQAhWB93FL5_LU4ADGIP3oAGdmj0CseyTfHlxPbZ38hy52twUvHoAw/s320/IMG_2200.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The feet and "hands" are a slightly different color than the<br />body. I used a 60/40 mix of Metallic Turquoise and Metallic<br />Arctic Blue from Folkart. Claws are Vallejo Bonewhite.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDhPc_4ZHRi-hwpgJ8GAZVXL2vJkGeHg63iPk6zet1Ml0jV4sHCfj1OjWBb-RWOGGJ-OCl1p72_12VHqAerAx0pFN-bIX9tQxFHLp_L6D2x6jEAShf_XmFSIx5Np9zCehxbOpbbM7weH7QrDD7gaWM23cOLDjP85KifQYb1VQG7IA-rCCzBlxqfbjRwQ/s2048/IMG_2212.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDhPc_4ZHRi-hwpgJ8GAZVXL2vJkGeHg63iPk6zet1Ml0jV4sHCfj1OjWBb-RWOGGJ-OCl1p72_12VHqAerAx0pFN-bIX9tQxFHLp_L6D2x6jEAShf_XmFSIx5Np9zCehxbOpbbM7weH7QrDD7gaWM23cOLDjP85KifQYb1VQG7IA-rCCzBlxqfbjRwQ/s320/IMG_2212.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A face only Mutant Mom could love.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEpMWCeZuHlr1DCJ3Udwq_GCqzGoUwgMi-b99nCD_GUPcc9xF1cuSQHZJ2D--nVw-thpUZIS1ois90YP03Zc34azbyIP4EdNSw4HL9VlC_0HCA07eGjsIy2olkNwWtVQYwlaYNHFF7FoVloQXOmjalfo4_j5RaZoDn8Q3AzIlG5wRcMlZCnX1n22uUHQ/s2048/IMG_2221.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEpMWCeZuHlr1DCJ3Udwq_GCqzGoUwgMi-b99nCD_GUPcc9xF1cuSQHZJ2D--nVw-thpUZIS1ois90YP03Zc34azbyIP4EdNSw4HL9VlC_0HCA07eGjsIy2olkNwWtVQYwlaYNHFF7FoVloQXOmjalfo4_j5RaZoDn8Q3AzIlG5wRcMlZCnX1n22uUHQ/s320/IMG_2221.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I don't know why he has a "space bra."</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwJ0e3A4_Ms333Snv6BagoKhzV3OLW0_36u5CDZ-zT51sDE8PUaKtw_wdZbhUdGmee7XkUGAjyt00ULSo_XjG5TypGHKpdyyAQed4o0TJqnemWjNj_wvNMzA3Fo6NJYtTrEEZvGks3gY8KGKzevXEpRsZLVEewEOwdtolAvSZ6ddqMt8tRuTXR40zNAQ/s2048/IMG_2222.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwJ0e3A4_Ms333Snv6BagoKhzV3OLW0_36u5CDZ-zT51sDE8PUaKtw_wdZbhUdGmee7XkUGAjyt00ULSo_XjG5TypGHKpdyyAQed4o0TJqnemWjNj_wvNMzA3Fo6NJYtTrEEZvGks3gY8KGKzevXEpRsZLVEewEOwdtolAvSZ6ddqMt8tRuTXR40zNAQ/s320/IMG_2222.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yes, the brain was bluish, but it <br />shouted "Green!" at me. The Mutant<br />made me do it. That's my story.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj-kv371yKDg66HXwIEsa3ojSggmP-5HJnOOGlvg2NEHBiE3ZeBCjj1eBGIX9SNbg243gyBN-IvJCyu-JMCcEiPWBu_hjYgBUR2jfgNz-pFttGF0AFVqO7dfg4_QkF5BoVHRLQDIV9iwbDztBfvmVwsEOAM_rNe94nQig3t-8lVyWcLpI40OtPoa_CZA/s2048/IMG_2223.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj-kv371yKDg66HXwIEsa3ojSggmP-5HJnOOGlvg2NEHBiE3ZeBCjj1eBGIX9SNbg243gyBN-IvJCyu-JMCcEiPWBu_hjYgBUR2jfgNz-pFttGF0AFVqO7dfg4_QkF5BoVHRLQDIV9iwbDztBfvmVwsEOAM_rNe94nQig3t-8lVyWcLpI40OtPoa_CZA/s320/IMG_2223.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYoYGyI5P_lhXLwtHxrrL-g2R7lot9k8ric8Zb_RswA88SytnYae5pc2Ru2Tt9bjOzpFqLeyH0LrN8NcgPQ0r8yBccAbUJRmc91VVQcnCbvR-PuA2WEoWExLYclLtCowl7MpkNWIuaziTwqPa4B_1B7W94AXRTEhTuMyKSg2Y5bxGWxd92Le6sODS8Cg/s2048/IMG_2225.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYoYGyI5P_lhXLwtHxrrL-g2R7lot9k8ric8Zb_RswA88SytnYae5pc2Ru2Tt9bjOzpFqLeyH0LrN8NcgPQ0r8yBccAbUJRmc91VVQcnCbvR-PuA2WEoWExLYclLtCowl7MpkNWIuaziTwqPa4B_1B7W94AXRTEhTuMyKSg2Y5bxGWxd92Le6sODS8Cg/s320/IMG_2225.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">To be honest, I don't understand the purpose of<br />the "hump" or how it goes over the "space bra."<br />Is it armor or organic? It looks both.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqhLKPKPjAtZRjcRDckNab9M30DfW9BQ-Tu9ecUQ3tSyLbkVO5YehpYdb1wNyuP6PSf0_yNNDSmgjZYf-jxVsL86-yAa8Fg-tRIFkOVH7bcTsnFmpX70Ea8kzSmm8OYYdekU9QCdhfG2JOLrcViWG_jko-SFpehO7yDXdr5igsyay0GSh2Tcf1prkCTg/s2048/IMG_2226.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqhLKPKPjAtZRjcRDckNab9M30DfW9BQ-Tu9ecUQ3tSyLbkVO5YehpYdb1wNyuP6PSf0_yNNDSmgjZYf-jxVsL86-yAa8Fg-tRIFkOVH7bcTsnFmpX70Ea8kzSmm8OYYdekU9QCdhfG2JOLrcViWG_jko-SFpehO7yDXdr5igsyay0GSh2Tcf1prkCTg/s320/IMG_2226.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQZsDervbDjtKtG-zFua1h3oHwDWwGo1MVvX-zhYkswycwL-natzoJbnZ_OWrFwU9n0tZfjfD50rkR_MsOi6_GJtntqZkMy1zPDPsXIKT8GRumqPyY3VMqq0PyMjCMTmOHaBrx0TkwciEGKjS9exhYevZQqy-dzfZqK8lEK8f7asg48LDiUfinxBS70Q/s2048/IMG_2227.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQZsDervbDjtKtG-zFua1h3oHwDWwGo1MVvX-zhYkswycwL-natzoJbnZ_OWrFwU9n0tZfjfD50rkR_MsOi6_GJtntqZkMy1zPDPsXIKT8GRumqPyY3VMqq0PyMjCMTmOHaBrx0TkwciEGKjS9exhYevZQqy-dzfZqK8lEK8f7asg48LDiUfinxBS70Q/s320/IMG_2227.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRyi7KiMF88spmE1LId4d8XMrF_khXWfzRwVba7_ve_7WNYV9O3wbvT4NPX5ierOQxW6yCrzUjRw3YRARUEBP5NE2IOV2cHDVhScvFQ41i_LqW5fgrT_vQVRKSUng86oGNb2U_rDXMiBXfxWQXm6267zo22QX33H2209VeyrzeZY-6It0uZFNIWMXvoA/s2048/IMG_2228.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRyi7KiMF88spmE1LId4d8XMrF_khXWfzRwVba7_ve_7WNYV9O3wbvT4NPX5ierOQxW6yCrzUjRw3YRARUEBP5NE2IOV2cHDVhScvFQ41i_LqW5fgrT_vQVRKSUng86oGNb2U_rDXMiBXfxWQXm6267zo22QX33H2209VeyrzeZY-6It0uZFNIWMXvoA/s320/IMG_2228.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another view of the trousers. It was the first<br />time I've used such a complex layering on a model.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijtcLL55aEUY8i7WxPbvL07642OErwJqg1P4ahvqVbFUJcUBueO0y20VwLVceF1PwxER1X48wFsd2NXKjjQ0T3TyyjyIIy-BObs0dQIXpICuogQosolKh7JDOmCEMkCxzjwJp0DBDgO20VXJLyr7kxjPgV2ZJ-ECk4UdrGEj3iuR2aNCf2y5hZ4l-m1g/s2048/IMG_2238.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijtcLL55aEUY8i7WxPbvL07642OErwJqg1P4ahvqVbFUJcUBueO0y20VwLVceF1PwxER1X48wFsd2NXKjjQ0T3TyyjyIIy-BObs0dQIXpICuogQosolKh7JDOmCEMkCxzjwJp0DBDgO20VXJLyr7kxjPgV2ZJ-ECk4UdrGEj3iuR2aNCf2y5hZ4l-m1g/s320/IMG_2238.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Mutant measures 7" (7.5" with the base). At<br />1:12 scale, one inch equals one foot.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p style="text-align: justify;">The Metaluna Mutant has been a favorite of fans for years. I think it may be because he fulfills so many genre tropes of the times: bug-eyed monster (BEM), exposed big brain, popping veins, claws, etc. All he needs is a scantily clad space lass on his arm and he could have graced the cover of <i>Thrilling Wonder Stories</i>. As it is, he'll have to be satisfied with the cover of <i>Famous Monsters of Filmland</i>, that venerable chronicle of weird and wonderful movies founded by James Warren (<i>Creepy, Vampirella,</i> etc) and Forrest J. Akerman (AKA "The Akermonster" and "Mr Science Fiction."</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVcfJTar2YALqiYoK6OC-9HOJbcZT8Ja_uWsAATpdlszhMpzcHbiChmyg_3kkq771S8MI7PZSsrICkQSQJ3PwHaOL9kdW0ZdrzMOt__6OV5TN3cXpNr3i1HZNHBQtcRO0wsCiAHcRKdunMHklbqI7Yjs2zKvO302d50ZEZjCFAguWL5LrgCuzRZdzP8Q/s499/mutant02.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="499" data-original-width="387" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVcfJTar2YALqiYoK6OC-9HOJbcZT8Ja_uWsAATpdlszhMpzcHbiChmyg_3kkq771S8MI7PZSsrICkQSQJ3PwHaOL9kdW0ZdrzMOt__6OV5TN3cXpNr3i1HZNHBQtcRO0wsCiAHcRKdunMHklbqI7Yjs2zKvO302d50ZEZjCFAguWL5LrgCuzRZdzP8Q/w496-h640/mutant02.jpg" width="496" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div> <br /><br /><p></p>Ralph E. Vaughanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06326668196800976578noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692638741373905099.post-66387372724685531452022-05-19T13:44:00.000-07:002022-05-19T13:44:20.687-07:00A Holmes Duo<p style="text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbS8Sfi0iJ0Ie5ADuI_V5Ef_Aht3ny5WSgF2XeAacZ5M_vvWYoOd77fu5iKbk1YsfJIbGYt26p_zDLxnnf9YBXbzvv4EhfMVkuWCR1kCsu1qUifutFDiq0ctIcqjrpcObTrBVKk9nBKWGkgm1SwdSbOwZP1JvUQJmF7wEbemaj1dqOn-bWUmP-69yZqQ/s338/MWM2017.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="338" data-original-width="260" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbS8Sfi0iJ0Ie5ADuI_V5Ef_Aht3ny5WSgF2XeAacZ5M_vvWYoOd77fu5iKbk1YsfJIbGYt26p_zDLxnnf9YBXbzvv4EhfMVkuWCR1kCsu1qUifutFDiq0ctIcqjrpcObTrBVKk9nBKWGkgm1SwdSbOwZP1JvUQJmF7wEbemaj1dqOn-bWUmP-69yZqQ/w154-h200/MWM2017.jpg" width="154" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;">In 2017, I sent a Sherlock Holmes pastiche to <i>Mystery Weekly Magazine</i> for their <a href="https://www.mysteryweekly.com/issues/aftermidnight" target="_blank">annual tribute to the Great Detective</a>. This was a little shilling shocker called "London After Midnight." If the title sounds a bit familiar, it's because it was a 1927 silent film starring Lon Chaney Sr, helmed by Todd Browning. Unfortunately, it is a lost film, the last surviving copy being destroyed in a fire in the 60s. I did see a recreation of the film, using the original script and stills from the production. Even in that version, it was memorable. In 1935, Todd Browning remade his film as a talkie, with Bela Lugosi in Chaney's role. It is a good film, but not as memorable. I've always liked the title, with its evocation of gas-lit London and thick fogs, so when a chance to legitimately use it (the story <i>does</i> start after midnight) I took advantage.</div><p></p><p style="text-align: left;">When others write Holmes pastiches, they seem intent on recreating a Conan Doyle story, right down to the tone, types of crimes and the use of Watson as a filter. I have usually taken a different route. Ever since I created the Holmes/Lovecraft mashup (see <a href="https://bookscribbles.blogspot.com/2011/02/when-sherlock-holmes-first-met-hp.html" target="_blank">"When Sherlock Holmes First Met HP Lovecraft"</a>), my first choice is to embroil Holmes in situations such as Conan Doyle never thought of and which would have sent Watson scampering home to one of his many wives. When I told the editor my submission might be "a little weird," I was told, "We like weird." So, Holmes was going to again enter Lovecraft territory.</p><p style="text-align: left;">In stories, I try to give Holmes third-person narrators or unique first-person narrators. In this case, I chose the latter and drew upon my inner P.G. Wodehouse for a Bertie Wooster-like character. Shades of young men in spats! An advantage of using a unique voice is that different aspects of Holmes come to the fore and we at times get a more honest, sometimes more critical view of Holmes. In this case, the narrator is a little cheeky, a bit esoteric and probably drinks a few too many gin & tonics.</p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwlRlOdLNJnhWRNM3fOgZW6ioZXkXDnWTK0KxLvqy1b_wrngawFIPX9XtB9nQwYhstc-30lITIt9n47XQt1jUQxR6hd-BiyxBEw5RWs-m32mq8PmmSEt62_vonOuqhxYEgSIOhdYe0YI9IKp2enhqObI9iQrwgM2Z6-R2_oMcz0aosOkjQYydw6t-_hQ/s500/MWM2019.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="385" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwlRlOdLNJnhWRNM3fOgZW6ioZXkXDnWTK0KxLvqy1b_wrngawFIPX9XtB9nQwYhstc-30lITIt9n47XQt1jUQxR6hd-BiyxBEw5RWs-m32mq8PmmSEt62_vonOuqhxYEgSIOhdYe0YI9IKp2enhqObI9iQrwgM2Z6-R2_oMcz0aosOkjQYydw6t-_hQ/w154-h200/MWM2019.jpg" width="154" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;">A couple of years later, I was again asked to submit a story for the <a href="https://www.mysteryweekly.com/issues/abominable" target="_blank">2019 Holmes issue.</a> This time, I decided to use a third-person narrator and set the tale during a time in Holmes' life that is rarely explored. It's called the Great Hiatus and is the three-year period (May 1891 - April 1894) following his apparent death at the hands of Professor Moriarty, as related in "The Final Problem." Holmes returned to the public eye in "The Adventure of the Empty House" (see my <a href="https://bookscribbles.blogspot.com/2012/09/collaborating-with-conan-doyle.html" target="_blank">previous post</a> for what <i>really</i> happened the night of his return), but he was always reticent about his activities during his absence from London. Relatively few stories are set during that time in his life, possibly because of that reticence, but possibly, also, because his true identity could not be shared with any of the people he met or helped. Not only was it a chance to explore Holmes' life when to the world at large he was dead, but it provided the opportunity to get Holmes out of London, out of England, which I did by setting the story in a small Italian village with a dark past, and darker secret.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9u5zGn3gGK4_BBh_KqVStRlYleFRzym1FUquSkyzyM8HTqjTCbh2NiUo6LSswIXbqOnzxD7Aa3SWgi8gHnaboRFNBbcJEdxxlA7rorY8pA6PmQDCtG-7TNgEnj8L4giYk-Mi2gP4-krIJ14GapE8cA5f3pe2mdxyk6VkqGnFEOoVXOH2X4WMF2011Kw/s2500/Sherlock%20Holmes%20Mythos%20(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2500" data-original-width="1567" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9u5zGn3gGK4_BBh_KqVStRlYleFRzym1FUquSkyzyM8HTqjTCbh2NiUo6LSswIXbqOnzxD7Aa3SWgi8gHnaboRFNBbcJEdxxlA7rorY8pA6PmQDCtG-7TNgEnj8L4giYk-Mi2gP4-krIJ14GapE8cA5f3pe2mdxyk6VkqGnFEOoVXOH2X4WMF2011Kw/w126-h200/Sherlock%20Holmes%20Mythos%20(2).jpg" width="126" /></a></div><br />A week or so ago I came across the contracts for the stories and realized that the exclusivity period requested by the publisher (12 months from date of publication) had lapsed. Though not enough for a full collection, I thought a Sherlock Holmes duo would make a nice quick read for someone needing a brief diversion from worldly anxieties. <i>Sherlock Holmes & the Mythos: Two Tales of the Cthulhu Mythos</i> is now available as an e-book on <a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0B1PJQ1P4" target="_blank">Amazon</a>. Because of its brevity, it will be digital only. As an extra bonus, I added a gallery of original Lovecraftian art at the end of the publication.</div><p></p>Ralph E. Vaughanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06326668196800976578noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692638741373905099.post-82581081323243843882022-05-02T17:01:00.000-07:002022-05-02T17:01:00.844-07:00Black Cat Weekly<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi715nsrIguN36VeXbZ6FRctK6QwVkLzq5V0YlJHaL9ukq70tlBL5N1RzUFvxHHJH3RsbZK0GxT8Ov0LpxOwxMD7KadthNcCZvj7QGaOXj4YG1Rmv3fG0fdOKFVA0EMWPt5pBcUpp1z_TADr2SZLJXS2XPTG-EyUrFGWlMZtQO-pmLucoeW3ZDo47z3fg/s500/BCW01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="375" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi715nsrIguN36VeXbZ6FRctK6QwVkLzq5V0YlJHaL9ukq70tlBL5N1RzUFvxHHJH3RsbZK0GxT8Ov0LpxOwxMD7KadthNcCZvj7QGaOXj4YG1Rmv3fG0fdOKFVA0EMWPt5pBcUpp1z_TADr2SZLJXS2XPTG-EyUrFGWlMZtQO-pmLucoeW3ZDo47z3fg/w150-h200/BCW01.jpg" width="150" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: justify;">If you've not come across <i><a href="https://bcmystery.com/" target="_blank">Black Cat Weekly</a></i> from Wildside Press, you are missing a great source of entertainment for literary omnivores. Each issue (as I write this, issue #35 has just come out) contains a number of stories in various genres, both old and new. To be honest, this has been a recent discovery for me, so I find myself in the situation of both keeping up and catching up.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAopTw6jPYOzYHJIjORIIgysQtCN6xjpJV2SRGxGEH0jk89jQUzBygjf-xpuJKVy4cS8RLEUPo7ZJFEVVvo6SCWnQADd1Nwsxf7eFWxy6JpuJ0X-Ya4KsJXRYmRmHhoqVEvfn3XpkAYSS7Bw2O4okIPyzUNyQh9yyGtdg4KMNREyvatgt6b6tGD7sldA/s421/BCW02.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="421" data-original-width="316" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAopTw6jPYOzYHJIjORIIgysQtCN6xjpJV2SRGxGEH0jk89jQUzBygjf-xpuJKVy4cS8RLEUPo7ZJFEVVvo6SCWnQADd1Nwsxf7eFWxy6JpuJ0X-Ya4KsJXRYmRmHhoqVEvfn3XpkAYSS7Bw2O4okIPyzUNyQh9yyGtdg4KMNREyvatgt6b6tGD7sldA/w150-h200/BCW02.jpg" width="150" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: justify;">Although I greatly enjoy the novels and stories from such writers as Lester del Rey, Henry Kuttner and Malcom Jameson, I find myself drawn to the interviews conducted by Darrell Schweitzer. There is an art to interviewing, one that not even journalists often appreciate. It's not a matter of asking questions, but of asking the <i>right </i>questions. Back when I was an Army photojournalist (when journalists were actually journalists) I found interviews to be the most difficult, yet most rewarding of assignments. I appreciate the deft touch Schweitzer brings to the task, as well as the profound comments elicited from such subjects as Fred Saberhagen, CJ Cherryh and Thomas M Disch. The interviews are "vintage," so they are a bit like literary archaeology, but that does not take away from my enjoyment of them in any way.</p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikBHkQr6ObZUm_IhZK5Lm9MHcKx2d-BlepC7kHfPG0KtZEj7mv5PqI-19mCvl8l3YIcr3h0Ci3de7-SQSqN_Y8q2ace7nUOiEYRDVtXB0L_c15wjwEuHRCv32vlq-BPwTqr-6Xg8BlShKBoz0wKgyAglTW9sIfN-ELjvqBBkduPGnq_CidtI05DYurUA/s640/BCW30.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikBHkQr6ObZUm_IhZK5Lm9MHcKx2d-BlepC7kHfPG0KtZEj7mv5PqI-19mCvl8l3YIcr3h0Ci3de7-SQSqN_Y8q2ace7nUOiEYRDVtXB0L_c15wjwEuHRCv32vlq-BPwTqr-6Xg8BlShKBoz0wKgyAglTW9sIfN-ELjvqBBkduPGnq_CidtI05DYurUA/w150-h200/BCW30.jpg" width="150" /></a></div><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;">Previously, each issue of the e-mag was $3.99, but the publisher recently reduced the price to $2.99, perhaps to make it more attractive to new readers. At either price, however, it is a heck of a deal. Honestly, I derive more pleasure from it than I do modern monthly print magazines. Give it a try. I think you'll really like it. You can get it directly from the publisher's website (link above) or from Amazon.</p>Ralph E. Vaughanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06326668196800976578noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692638741373905099.post-37951546912426558552022-04-01T14:15:00.003-07:002022-04-01T14:15:32.329-07:00A Novel for for Roger Corman<p style="text-align: justify;">I've always liked Roger Corman's films and television series. It's something of a guilty pleasure, but at least it's one than I can admit to now that Roger Corman has been around long enough (95 years) to acquire a patina of respectability. Of course, it's easy to admit to liking his Poe-series films because they were so well done by anyone's standards, but it takes a measure of fortitude to admit liking <i>Beast With a Million Eyes, It Conquered the World</i> or ("gulp") <i>Attack of the Crab Monsters</i>. One thing I always liked about his films is that you often never really knew what was coming. A safe cracking job segues into a monster movie in <i>Beast of Haunted Cave, </i>a film about a bunch of primitive cave dwellers becomes a warning about the future in <i>Teenage Caveman</i>, and a tale of unrequited love takes on a botanical twist in <i>Little Shop of Horrors</i>. I really wanted to capture that sense of Corman's genre weaving, so I wrote <i>Behind Thick Walls: An Apocalyptic Crime Novel</i>.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfAj7txY_nsWlIP9CwwC8I5e2mcPfPKQYQNLr-Sy4gzp5iG7-vRfM1uT3JVGiylTpifG-zl-8dA5rlSKRANi2gtYkSPwNr0t7ar-MTY20iHkKIBbaZsL3voSSwrRHUY29S1yLOvL0guhiAET9mpeZTDO-ljBjEDk06Ne9afooHSasafX2pMv__unAvtg/s2554/Behind%20Thick%20Walls%20Digital%20Cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2554" data-original-width="1600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfAj7txY_nsWlIP9CwwC8I5e2mcPfPKQYQNLr-Sy4gzp5iG7-vRfM1uT3JVGiylTpifG-zl-8dA5rlSKRANi2gtYkSPwNr0t7ar-MTY20iHkKIBbaZsL3voSSwrRHUY29S1yLOvL0guhiAET9mpeZTDO-ljBjEDk06Ne9afooHSasafX2pMv__unAvtg/s320/Behind%20Thick%20Walls%20Digital%20Cover.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">It starts out as a gangster novel, focusing on a new recruit to the infamous Diablo Crime Cartel, run by Antonio Carrillo, known to one and all as <i>El Jefe</i>. This is a time of plague for the novel's characters, but nothing as mild as what we in the "real" world have suffered through. No, they have N1M1, otherwise known as Rot, a disease of unknown origin (unlike Covid) that results in the body falling apart, and I don't mean that metaphorically.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>El Jefe</i> has moved his base of operations to his Citadel in a remote section of Mexico and practices a strict, some might say brutal, regimen to keep Rot at bay. The Mexican government leave him alone now that they have more important fish to fry, so to speak, but the American Department of Justice still wants his head on a platter, also so to speak. Beyond the diplomatic problems of attacking another country (though Mexico is in no position to protest), the Citadel is very well protected against ground and air assaults. Unfortunately, the DOJ has been spectacularly unsuccessful in gathering intelligence about <i>El Jefe's</i> defenses. Yes, they could drop a bunker-buster on the Citadel, but they really want <i>El Jefe</i> in a supermax prison much more than they want a smoking crater in Mexico's sovereign soil.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Then comes a man from out of the the desert who claims to be a doctor and a scientist on the trail of the origin of Rot. But he also claims that Rot may "not be of this Earth," so he may just be a lunatic. Or a prophet. Times of plague bring about all sorts of manias and rabble rousers exhorting the masses, men who cry Doom and Damnation to a dying world. This might be helpful to <i>El Jefe</i>, or he might be a harmless kook. Or he might be a spy for the Americans.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Blending genres can be risky, even jarring to the reader. There is always the risk that the science fiction fan may be turned off by the crime and noir elements, that the crime and thriller fan may find the science fiction and dystopian aspects off putting, or that aficionados of dystopian fiction may not be enthused by the crime and SF tropes. But, I think there is probably a convergence of readers somewhere in that trio of genres, and maybe even a few Roger Corman fans.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The book is currently available as an e-book and print edition on Amazon, and as an e-book wherever digital books are sold. Thanks for your support,</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><a href="http://getbook.at/Behind_Thick_Walls" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="280" data-original-width="580" height="96" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSKqTvnNvDAVESPI8AquJ7g6o1AoOD85Cz3di0A6-9sdt5xdFY4V7Z2AMXuKDkEfw18y5ALy1OV1QL5mVscXdqX_CT0Bf-OxuAKLrLReXzeBhJy6PvUFujobn6PglbV4Dg9gLjGrCmnVV2YeZCwI4IXJNc0pdVgnJdCUEsOTfpvJbSY8Wzvl28XtDEhw/w200-h96/amazon-logo_grey.png" width="200" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://getbook.at/Behind_Thick_Walls" target="_blank">Click the button above to <br />purchase at your Amazon store</a></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><a href="https://books2read.com/u/bzZEOZ" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="61" data-original-width="455" height="43" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6mLn12pq0Ly-tqL4F_q5Z-FveGpO6H_Y-jpGNvTk-xvahP4nzoH6gFZFtxveLEpWAMfOMHc-FkqfQh9LdQF7AFGhiFgMXNE7b5hz8LqqIuuNLc4jI-EeCFJOmdtyGO6rkzUN9JYSPXcoNheCNu9De4-RoKgvk_F1fELm4afCpuUwqGyeWptegrWRUPw/s320/button_available-wherever-e-books-are-sold%20blue.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://books2read.com/u/bzZEOZ" target="_blank">Click the button above to buy everywhere else</a></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div>Ralph E. Vaughanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06326668196800976578noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692638741373905099.post-88843770753630468182022-03-20T15:14:00.002-07:002022-03-20T15:14:41.167-07:00Aiming for the Moon<p style="text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEijd1QmDiztW3ZCd94k7Rs2TLAC2fDhYGOqXpkUmeXRQlTIZYbTbXQNTez1RWrhObPQRCQYRb9WaQGHt0CgQCYz4AzIRm2dNsC2B5dNtgwvLAQezM0UjHWX6wYZY5C3Vn1evJXj1vRVdC_LFePogxRUeoE4WaxcjGRWR8IgPbp1b9IgQiP58OtrgCNG5w=s800" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="571" data-original-width="800" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEijd1QmDiztW3ZCd94k7Rs2TLAC2fDhYGOqXpkUmeXRQlTIZYbTbXQNTez1RWrhObPQRCQYRb9WaQGHt0CgQCYz4AzIRm2dNsC2B5dNtgwvLAQezM0UjHWX6wYZY5C3Vn1evJXj1vRVdC_LFePogxRUeoE4WaxcjGRWR8IgPbp1b9IgQiP58OtrgCNG5w=s320" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p style="text-align: justify;">After almost five decades, I finally had the time and space to get back into a hobby that I enjoyed very much as a kid: building scale models. Of course, things had changed somewhat, not only in the hobby and in my own life, but in the world as well. Models were much more expensive and harder to find since model shops seems to be heading toward extinction, as are bookstores. As a lad, my hands were more nimble in handling small parts and they were not stricken by arthritis. Not everything has changed for the worse, though. I am much more patient now and and there are loads more resources available now, primarily the internet and YouTube. There was no one to ask about model building when I was a kid, but now all the information I want is just a few keystrokes away or accessible with an Amazon Firestick.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi5iECBq-MS-90qYX1F99ljo9vW4F7HwAtvM0aRzqs2VV8MubbSayp_Y1C0NLBFMtOcZ-2T9lOGbpArqd2gtl-SYmF4_EFSYP73uRd_PKNNKP_OO0OGQR3ZmnXRSIip2VOm--nJMvrsBGeKCO-gzoKMwC0dQ0BsKhXZJaf97jHu9as1lfdqns8MVxgkuQ=s1440" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi5iECBq-MS-90qYX1F99ljo9vW4F7HwAtvM0aRzqs2VV8MubbSayp_Y1C0NLBFMtOcZ-2T9lOGbpArqd2gtl-SYmF4_EFSYP73uRd_PKNNKP_OO0OGQR3ZmnXRSIip2VOm--nJMvrsBGeKCO-gzoKMwC0dQ0BsKhXZJaf97jHu9as1lfdqns8MVxgkuQ=s320" width="213" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: justify;">One of the models I built was the <i>Luna,</i> the spaceship from <i>Destination Moon</i>. It was not a complicated build, but still very fun. It's more of a painting project, really, than an assembly project. The ship itself is classic silver, hand painted, not sprayed. The based was very colorful by the time I got through with it, using various metallic acrylics, as I did when I built the Dick Tracy Magnetic Space Coup.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh_codSpzNt0bCYaA5p1AXJ6p4hwS8wtEoyWFuW-dAUXhf_VI4a6bk17Y8r8k4SSLN0_fElyUxdYutrSqCR5M0pT6MZsCobm0JK7YBWxVdzy1TJYHvKqZjxMXAKhlYxi9UvA6K-qWrh5vRC1nS1U9kVy0Gli0s2P-V1eLsJL6Br_62v7VWsAqkdt33nDQ=s6912" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="6912" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh_codSpzNt0bCYaA5p1AXJ6p4hwS8wtEoyWFuW-dAUXhf_VI4a6bk17Y8r8k4SSLN0_fElyUxdYutrSqCR5M0pT6MZsCobm0JK7YBWxVdzy1TJYHvKqZjxMXAKhlYxi9UvA6K-qWrh5vRC1nS1U9kVy0Gli0s2P-V1eLsJL6Br_62v7VWsAqkdt33nDQ=w400-h200" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: justify;">I've seen the film several times, but decided to read up on it anyway. I was rather shocked when, according to Wikipedia and IMDB, the film was based on the Robert A, Heinlein novel <i>Rocket Ship Galileo</i>. I knew this was wrong, that the the film was based on his novella <i>The Man Who Sold the Moon</i>, but everywhere I looked confirmed the information. I wondered, at least briefly, if I had slipped into an alternate history, you know the kind of place where the children's books about the Bears are Berenstein rather than Berenstain, or where Nelson Mandela did not die in prison.</p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEheG_IKc055WMawW8EaUkKSKcPqD2s1IuHRgwXJKJne_vsJHK4WRtrsoNFnA0EMRsrlQNNpwBIT5wqFeNoTZKmCVcjPlVXaBvuDx8Q-fw91Dmd0Id000fFbmXqiQNtOsVXRmlJ5WuFSuS0wigtSXO0YLG2NvaPJwFQf6Icux96IPLAMMuzN_dlMuDTWSg=s848" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="848" data-original-width="600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEheG_IKc055WMawW8EaUkKSKcPqD2s1IuHRgwXJKJne_vsJHK4WRtrsoNFnA0EMRsrlQNNpwBIT5wqFeNoTZKmCVcjPlVXaBvuDx8Q-fw91Dmd0Id000fFbmXqiQNtOsVXRmlJ5WuFSuS0wigtSXO0YLG2NvaPJwFQf6Icux96IPLAMMuzN_dlMuDTWSg=s320" width="226" /></a></div>I read <i>Rocket Ship Galileo</i> in second or third grade, and several times since then. For those who don't know the plot, three teenagers go to the Moon in a rocket ship invented by one boy's uncle. There they discover a secret Nazi base. There are no kids in the film, no uncle, and definitely no Moon Nazis. The film has much in common, however, with <i>The Man Who Sold the Moon</i>, an industrialist building a lunar rocket and using his project to lead humanity into space. Well, I know films often do not come out much like the books upon which they are based.<br /><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;">David Morrell, author of F<i>irst Blood</i>, made a comment in his book, <i>Lessons Learned from a Lifetime of Writing</i>, that when Hollywood gets their mitts on a book, it will be changed in ways the author never dreamed. In the film contract for <i>First Blood</i> was a clause for a sequel. He wanted to know how the heck there could be a sequel since nearly everyone in the book died. He was told (paraphrasing): "Listen, kid, if the film is successful and they want to make a sequel, there <b>will</b> be a sequel, even if they have to turn it into a pirate musical set on a submarine." There are reasons why I live in dread of success, and having to deal with Hollywood comprises almost all of them. Still, no teenage inventors, no crazy uncle and, most of all, no Moon Nazis. On the other hand, look what Hollywood did to <i>World War Z</i> ("The film contained everything you loved about the title"), <i>I am Legend</i> and<i> Who Framed Roger Rabbit.</i></p><p style="text-align: justify;">However, if one wants Moon Nazis (and who doesn't?), there's always the unabashedly satiric, goofy and occasionally funny <i>Iron Sky</i> and its rather pulpish sequel <i>Iron Sky: The Coming Race.</i> Personally, I think it easier to make a case that <i>Iron Sky</i> is a loose (very loose) adaptation of <i>Rocket Ship Galileo</i> than was <i>Destination Moon.</i> It's the Moon Nazis, you know.</p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgqgKGQyj79KMoPzuhS_yobGbSwkS2OIA65SyYLfpkRHX2V798GPxjQCk0NyHcFDnay_8ma06vxZU_GgrMctZxYHXcMYHJh0ciTgnrdPb6aDjzjLDimGKBCQuEveKrxnGE-N4miC-Iq7ZatcXrP3c1hxOrr6_hb9mA1vmnRDRKN-yRW1ESsvxF8uHmOIQ=s960" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="649" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgqgKGQyj79KMoPzuhS_yobGbSwkS2OIA65SyYLfpkRHX2V798GPxjQCk0NyHcFDnay_8ma06vxZU_GgrMctZxYHXcMYHJh0ciTgnrdPb6aDjzjLDimGKBCQuEveKrxnGE-N4miC-Iq7ZatcXrP3c1hxOrr6_hb9mA1vmnRDRKN-yRW1ESsvxF8uHmOIQ=s320" width="216" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><i><br /></i><p></p>Ralph E. Vaughanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06326668196800976578noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692638741373905099.post-91958470434017202082022-03-09T16:57:00.000-08:002022-03-09T16:57:13.550-08:00When Magic is not Enough<p style="text-align: justify;">I have not written many fantasy stories over the years. Most of my stories fall into the mystery/crime and science fiction genres. The few stories I've written that might be considered Fantasy tend to be plotted more like historicals, such as the Kira stories, which are set in the Bronze Age and follow a female warrior (pre Xena), or the Tawa stories, which feature an indigenous North American girl transported to a prehistoric Europe. They feature ancient tribes and fabulous creatures, sometimes edging into science fantasy, as in the case of "Twilight Journey," but rarely involve traditional magic, which is at the heart of classic high fantasy.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">But not all my fantasy stories are bereft of magic. A few feature traditional magic prominently or have plots in which magic is central to the story. In "The Demon of Don't Ask," which appeared in <i>Marion Zimmer Bradley's Fantasy Magazine, </i>the magical system was provided to me because it was set in a shared universe. In other stories, I have been on my own and I did what I always do -- research research research. Yes, I do love to research.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh5cyT3eZL4I0xUwzQSjlj2fj3CvcDdz3DLju_HwZ1sZtS_csO-A1m0gCP0TRG5Uq0NNPYdJAgo2dcGoMTBlWntZh9F77r40EezgWkANPOmnz-UB5paQ4uLznGiVwcgMZ3l6PMYMwOHW-qriXCekwMcPAErZ-SXqqprb9eHt9z5JoX-HRQWgvyWbVBS6g=s1360" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1360" data-original-width="952" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh5cyT3eZL4I0xUwzQSjlj2fj3CvcDdz3DLju_HwZ1sZtS_csO-A1m0gCP0TRG5Uq0NNPYdJAgo2dcGoMTBlWntZh9F77r40EezgWkANPOmnz-UB5paQ4uLznGiVwcgMZ3l6PMYMwOHW-qriXCekwMcPAErZ-SXqqprb9eHt9z5JoX-HRQWgvyWbVBS6g=w140-h200" width="140" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The book I most often turned to for magical verisimilitude was <i>The Magician's Companion </i>by Bill Whitcomb. It contains all that's needed for myriad magical systems, plus provides the tools to customize one's own system. Even in those stories where spells and incantations were not used, it helped in setting up a mindset for those characters to whom dwelling in a magical world was as natural as breathing.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgydXVS_cwgAFois1VqkMzMABtaFOW5t7yeN91N5qK-PgW6uVVaBHjTYKwdNr43GDXvjnTssTDuJk3SfYNIbGNNFcj2LBN1mPzm7Zjev2JytI-MIOpwSYwXqKGO-0AW1abnRPsII6W3RWchNGqfBXYk-XeonJWqhbKOpiNC_zolEcLMy4mA3vMUQslCjQ=s1048" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1048" data-original-width="623" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgydXVS_cwgAFois1VqkMzMABtaFOW5t7yeN91N5qK-PgW6uVVaBHjTYKwdNr43GDXvjnTssTDuJk3SfYNIbGNNFcj2LBN1mPzm7Zjev2JytI-MIOpwSYwXqKGO-0AW1abnRPsII6W3RWchNGqfBXYk-XeonJWqhbKOpiNC_zolEcLMy4mA3vMUQslCjQ=w119-h200" width="119" /></a></div>Another book that has proved very helpful over the years is <i>Magic: An Occult Primer </i>by David Conway. This book I have had a very long time. I purchased it from a bookstore in Fitchburg, Massachusetts in the mid 70s. At the time, I was stationed at Ft Devens. On the weekends, when were given time off, we spent our time in various little towns. Littleton was the nicest town we visited, but it was out of the way, and Fitchburg was more convenient. One of the attractions was that there was a bookstore within walking distance of the motel. This was the main book I used as source material when writing <i>Murderer in Shadow</i>, fourth book in the DCI Arthur Ravyn series. Though it is a cozy police procedural novel and not fantasy, the setting is an English village where magic (or the belief in it) is part of everyday life.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhfmRVtiIRCdixCFx2B_Jio_4-019JjHEsiLzr1lmhaCSl0VSkQE3IF4Bd2PcjDBZYSQ0HjuH63V2wmXyZoUPRs7DXhv_XD_trFJB_GJeX2eb30ZtD5wKDqHQ3wnnpe942SBkEW6pNj3Hn0EjPiFGWAWlWOhTSvteia9H5dx8Ve7xXNqtYlgHfCFYcQ4g=s2122" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2122" data-original-width="1250" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhfmRVtiIRCdixCFx2B_Jio_4-019JjHEsiLzr1lmhaCSl0VSkQE3IF4Bd2PcjDBZYSQ0HjuH63V2wmXyZoUPRs7DXhv_XD_trFJB_GJeX2eb30ZtD5wKDqHQ3wnnpe942SBkEW6pNj3Hn0EjPiFGWAWlWOhTSvteia9H5dx8Ve7xXNqtYlgHfCFYcQ4g=w118-h200" width="118" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Magic is not always confined to books. Some people believe in magic just as others hold to Christianity, Islam or Science. I don't believe in magic myself, but as the protagonist of Fritz Leiber's <i>Conjure Wife </i>(filmed as <i>Burn Witch Burn-</i>US and <i>Night of the Eagle-</i>UK) discovered, reality is not as important as belief. And I have known a few people personally who followed Wicca and Paganism. And, once, I met a young man who had been cursed by a <i>bruja</i>, a Mexican witch.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">At the time, I handled payroll for about 500 people, and the young man was one of our laborers. One day, his supervisor came to me and told me Juan was having some performance and behavioral issues. That was too bad, I said, because he seemed like a nice young man and had always been a model employee, but what did that have to do with me? Certainly, they were not thinking of terminating him without giving him a chance to redeem himself? After all, we had a lot of long-time employees that were professional goldbricks and ne'er-do-wells, and they were still on the job, at least when they deigned to put in a workday. No, you don't understand, I was told, Juan has been cursed by a witch, and I need you to lift the curse.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I don't often tell people I'm a writer, but word gets around. Mostly, it's because I don't want to read their manuscripts and screenplays. But, as I found out, there are other reasons. I said I did not want to get involved, that I did not believe in curses, and that, even if I did believe in curses, there was nothing I could do about lifting one. But, in the end, I was drafted into the scheme to free Juan from the power of the witch, who, as it turned out, was his girlfriend's grandmother, a <i>bruja</i> of great power from the interior of Mexico and who disliked him intensely.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The supervisor had no idea what we going to to do, but I did. I arranged for the supervisor to bring him to my office that Friday. That gave me a little time to research Mexican magic. Not surprisingly, I had just the book I needed in my library. Friday rolled around, and Juan appeared in my office on time, and, much to Juan's surprise and consternation, I dismissed the supervisor.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">For someone as young and impressionable as Juan, a supervisor was almost a demigod. For me to dismiss him, and him obey as quickly as he did, elevated me in the young man's eyes. Most employees never darkened headquarters' door, so it was almost as if Juan had been transported to some supernal realm. And to Juan I was...well, I was odd. I wore a glittering blue coat, a silk cravat with an Eye of Horus pin and a fez with a mystical symbol on it. For the past few days, the supervisor had played me up as a master of the occult. From the look in Juan's eyes, I judged he had reached the proper mindset.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Belief is everything, and when it came to magic and the occult Juan had belief in spades. During my talk with him, I learned that his girlfriend's grandmother did not approve him as a suitor. He had been a bit doubtful about her at first but understood her terrible powers when he saw a goat floating upside-down with candles on its hooves. And that was not all the wonders she showed him...yes, she was very good at manipulation. Then she cursed him and he knew he was doomed. All the bad luck and misfortune was all the proof he needed, but he still loved the girl.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">It never does any good to talk True Believers out of anything, so I did not even try. Instead, I gave him the magical parchment I had prepared, had him read it seven times while facing each of the four cardinal points, then told him to burn it in a copper vessel I'd brought to work. We took the ashes outside, buried them in the shade of a cactus, and repeated the Lord's Prayer to the four cardinal points. Afterwards, I gave him several small white stones and had him arrange them in a cross over the ashes. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">After that, I heard nothing but good reports about Juan. He was back to being the good employee he had been before being cursed. He also got back together with his girlfriend. The grandmother still thought him an idiot and did not approve, but she had no hold over Juan. He believed his magic was greater than hers, and that was all there was to it.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I really wish I could say that Juan got promoted, that he and the girl got married and that they went on to a long and happy life. Yeah, I wish. We don't need witches or curses to bring tragedy into our lives. Juan had never been part of a gang, though gangs were a part of his culture. Often, avoiding a gang is as dangerous as joining a gang. In July of that year, shortly after the holiday, Juan did not show up for work. A few days later, his body was found in the trunk of a stolen car abandoned out on Otay Lakes Road. The murder remains unsolved.</div>Ralph E. Vaughanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06326668196800976578noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692638741373905099.post-27797173869236897982022-02-25T13:59:00.000-08:002022-02-25T13:59:27.736-08:00Belloq was Right<p>Different people recall different portions of favorite films. I tend to remember snippets of dialogue. This actually evolved into something of a game with the Kidette, then a shorthand way of speaking, relating films to daily life. So, if someone tries to do the same old thing, but differently: "He's just changing the dog's name." Or if someone claims to be a good guy: "There are no good guys, there are no bad guys; there's just a bunch of guys." So, while some might take away from <i>Raiders of the Lost Ark</i> the image of the adroit swordsman being shot or an inattentive Nazi being sliced and diced by a flying wing's propeller, I tend to remember what Belloq, the evil French archaeologist, said about his pocket watch:</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjcmTGYyqXC-GXJb9V3Gbb0Z69YDWzjKa2g--ZzQ1uGxr8p4OcQ-eKJChEXvMxaYXP9174bhaHm5IEkvzbOlCC41dCgl8h4q0Le8ZxgNUMRwuf3mXaZ56UgwG36BhYcAmjfXj9RDJzkOhxA5PVSqXzrg98MXkD7hAQr0qfBFRVW9czDzE5BVWUywoWJvw=s1200" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="630" data-original-width="1200" height="336" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjcmTGYyqXC-GXJb9V3Gbb0Z69YDWzjKa2g--ZzQ1uGxr8p4OcQ-eKJChEXvMxaYXP9174bhaHm5IEkvzbOlCC41dCgl8h4q0Le8ZxgNUMRwuf3mXaZ56UgwG36BhYcAmjfXj9RDJzkOhxA5PVSqXzrg98MXkD7hAQr0qfBFRVW9czDzE5BVWUywoWJvw=w640-h336" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> "You know it's worthless. Ten dollars from a vendor in the street. But I take it, I bury it in the sand for a thousand years, it becomes priceless... like the Ark. Men will kill for it. Men like you and me."</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>Belloq was right, you know. Let anything acquire a patina of age and it becomes valuable. I often wonder what future archaeologists, whether evolved Cockroaches or visiting scientists from Altair IV, will make of the room where I do all my writing. A book shrine? An ancient library? A temple dedicated to the triune god Asimov-Bradbury-Clarke? And what if my remains are there, my skeleton sitting at a typewriter or laptop? The last Archivist? The Priest of Philip K. Dick and Raymond Chandler? Divine Being? Maybe I'll end up in an alien museum. I do like museums.</p><p>However, we need not wait so long to see our things become valuable. Recently, I was book-searching on the internet, curious about some of the Lovecraftian publications from Necronomicon Press. The results were quite startling.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj2toF7Ey-ddW-pwtRXTDevlbWE88RR2F9FcdSjCvgwG6rdrhve5y3bxJIe_6bGwTdZRDdoVDSCG9WgLc0qliERwuFTNyeW6Qzs0DNXm1M-C15GUYkVrf45TQnz-Gg1QmIXehJUKx40aW6Bv_Zv_mJpoJk1qH4IGAvzZiWTDlRIcqKyuI2drnVh91pAnw=s534" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="283" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj2toF7Ey-ddW-pwtRXTDevlbWE88RR2F9FcdSjCvgwG6rdrhve5y3bxJIe_6bGwTdZRDdoVDSCG9WgLc0qliERwuFTNyeW6Qzs0DNXm1M-C15GUYkVrf45TQnz-Gg1QmIXehJUKx40aW6Bv_Zv_mJpoJk1qH4IGAvzZiWTDlRIcqKyuI2drnVh91pAnw=s320" width="170" /></a></div>The three booklets pictured contain prose and poetry written by HP Lovecraft that had not been previously collected for publication. Mostly, they consist of amateur writings from HPL's Amateur Press Association days; poetry and essays from what we would now call "fanzines;" poems, essays and vignettes culled from his corpus of letters; and discarded drafts of later stories. When published, they each cost $4.95 in the late 70s, early 80s, so I spent about $15 for all three, plus a modicum of postage. I figured they had probably increased a bit in value over the years, driven by collector demand and the increasing worthlessness of the US dollar. However, I was not prepared to find a listing offering the three booklets for $224.95+$8.95 s&h. I also found six reproductions of Lovecraft's articles from <i>The Californian</i> offered for $350 and a two-volume set of HPL's letters to Robert Bloch for $225. The <i>HPL Christmas Book</i> sold for $1.50, but I found listings of it for $41.25+s&h. <i>The History of the Necronomicon</i> (1992 @ $1.50) is available for $84. Even <i>Lovecraft Studies #7</i>, Necronomicon Press' scholarly periodical which contained my article "The Old Man and the Sea," is available on Amazon for $35, quite a bit more than the original.<div><br /></div><div>I don't plan on getting rid of those booklets anytime soon, but it did set me wondering about some of my own Small Press efforts, both the Sherlock Holmes stories published by Gryphon Publications and my own modest chapbooks that I published under the imprint of Running Dinosaur Press. Was it possible that either had gathered enough of a time-worn patina to become valuable or (dare I suggest?) respectable? Well, as it turned out, they had acquired much more value than I suspected.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgx3LvCzVCSqhkuRD1k-M2lvYeHGivE2mDkCq82RxOfjVSWqjwW2RWVcM3-B1KJoaf_3w1-mXWoTw7vRSJJ7fr3PqQbslzFeq4PFrQ9L3jWTQpxNN0Scc_3FUzSPK8IGti_kfk6x9n4DzFsPgummyW3sV22RbMjSiffCPH4CSsrTXSIOJpqqAU_ySWnHQ=s379" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="379" data-original-width="243" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgx3LvCzVCSqhkuRD1k-M2lvYeHGivE2mDkCq82RxOfjVSWqjwW2RWVcM3-B1KJoaf_3w1-mXWoTw7vRSJJ7fr3PqQbslzFeq4PFrQ9L3jWTQpxNN0Scc_3FUzSPK8IGti_kfk6x9n4DzFsPgummyW3sV22RbMjSiffCPH4CSsrTXSIOJpqqAU_ySWnHQ=s320" width="205" /></a></div>The first book I looked at was <i>Sherlock Holmes in The Adventure of the Ancient Gods.</i> The story was first published in the Trek fanzine "Holmesian Federation." I've already written about the genesis of the <a href="http://bookscribbles.blogspot.com/2011/02/when-sherlock-holmes-first-met-hp.html" target="_blank">story</a>, so won't go into it here, except to say that it does have some significance amongst Holmes/Lovecraft pastiches because it was the very first story to combine the two literary universes, beating the excellent <i>Pulptime</i> by a few years. When Gary Lovisi republished the story as a chapbook, the price was $5. I thought it a little steep at the time, but I knew that specialty publications were often priced in advance of trade-published books. In a recent listing, I found it priced at $45+$4.95 s&h. Of course, I have in the past seen it listed at $60 or so, and, once, for $112 on Amazon by a rare books dealer. <div><br /></div><div>The sort-of sequel to the book, <i>Sherlock Holmes in The Dreaming Detective</i>, also published by Gary Lovisi's Gryphon Books was listed recently for $25+$5 s&h. That is more in line with what I would expect for a specialty book now out of print (for the time being), but I have seen other listings in the past asking upwards of $100 for a "Fine to Very Fine" reading copy.</div><div><br /></div><div>I have to admit that neither listing (Necronomicon Press nor Gryphon Books) really shocked me all that much. After all, the quality was very high, the books were unique and not available elsewhere, and both presses were (and are) highly regarded by scholars, fans and collectors. The shock came when I looked up some of my own Running Dinosaur Press publications.</div><div><br /></div><div><div>I have to admit that Running Dinosaur Press was never more than a hobby for me, a creative outlet for myself and others. Despite being a paying market for stories, poems and illustrations, I never made a penny on any booklet. Press runs were meager. When I was invited to sit on a Small Press panel at the 1991 World Fantasy Convention, I represented more the Micro Press than Small Press. And I purposely kept prices at a minimum, just enough to cover production and postage. I truly thought that the chapbooks would never be of interest to anyone but those whose names appeared within.</div></div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEio6W9ba5XrmUU8rGz5kk5FJQEhj4yTHqr7kKqjWjKh549pXRLTLQZrWjxUYjx0I9iIPjRLl1tIXyg3RybbiNlvWNoja0un_JvJUYwraDYfs-wFePDWnompuHNQT3xJgQjAVzWZffA6Gh8h89oktIS2DecSPEgd2AkN07qDGNnO3GUbjTtmMp-pLFshGQ=s1500" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="985" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEio6W9ba5XrmUU8rGz5kk5FJQEhj4yTHqr7kKqjWjKh549pXRLTLQZrWjxUYjx0I9iIPjRLl1tIXyg3RybbiNlvWNoja0un_JvJUYwraDYfs-wFePDWnompuHNQT3xJgQjAVzWZffA6Gh8h89oktIS2DecSPEgd2AkN07qDGNnO3GUbjTtmMp-pLFshGQ=s320" width="210" /></a></div><i><div><i><br /></i></div>A Walk in the Dark</i> had a horror/dark fantasy theme. I asked for poems about what scared people and received several hundred submissions, out of which I chose 49. It included such notables as Janet Fox, Steve Rasnic Tem, Duane Rimel, t. Winter-Damon, Jessica Amanda Salmonson, Scott Green, and a contribution from Randall Jarrell (posthumously) via his publisher. The cover was light blue, as were all RDP covers, and the price was just $2.35, which included mailing. So I was more than a little surprised when I found a listing offering it for $26.25+$4 s&h.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjWUj6yKVGsNMs4ElW4iE7PDH8BUWzH0jmZQyLhz9emitNvcf6GH0EgipEGf9doZoX_KH65UWyfzCaBmhI_mCYMfWe09yN9tfS5W3n-YIt74ypoMF8CZPnl0GgfSQOkAssQAgWm3q-aAOhKVBT4lxpAwOgCB9Rqt7XRSINGB3bwQrh0Yy_rh-ahPa-eTQ=s1500" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="986" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjWUj6yKVGsNMs4ElW4iE7PDH8BUWzH0jmZQyLhz9emitNvcf6GH0EgipEGf9doZoX_KH65UWyfzCaBmhI_mCYMfWe09yN9tfS5W3n-YIt74ypoMF8CZPnl0GgfSQOkAssQAgWm3q-aAOhKVBT4lxpAwOgCB9Rqt7XRSINGB3bwQrh0Yy_rh-ahPa-eTQ=s320" width="210" /></a></div><div><br /></div>In <i>Alternate Lives</i>, I gave authors the difficult task of exploring alternate histories, timelines and universes via poems and fiction of 100-200 words. There are a few anthologies that explore the theme, my favorite being <i><a href="https://bookscribbles.blogspot.com/2018/10/worlds-of-maybe.html" target="_blank">Worlds of Maybe</a></i>, but, let's face it, it's a daunting task to create a new history or timeline, put some characters in it and tell a story in anything shorter than a novel. And, yet, about thirty people accepted the challenge and did a very good job. The price on this booklet was only $1.25 (again, including postage), but I found a listing that offered a copy for $30+$5 s&h.<div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiuKv4UILEOM7R3BSJ-xdJvO-q-Rq6n4jiKOWgjPR08mR0uFICWdcrzxeCz6U71RwXDUdtOj9NgJHB7xmU_D8tLK6B-mAlUwFE4Z69p4x5AxbegMN4ezK4VqwEZizM6Z8sLmtS6pBOvIp3OIyR1ueeJX4VQW0ghxkmyFPhbvZCCnnfsGLBQMnXKh4yRVQ=s1488" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1488" data-original-width="922" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiuKv4UILEOM7R3BSJ-xdJvO-q-Rq6n4jiKOWgjPR08mR0uFICWdcrzxeCz6U71RwXDUdtOj9NgJHB7xmU_D8tLK6B-mAlUwFE4Z69p4x5AxbegMN4ezK4VqwEZizM6Z8sLmtS6pBOvIp3OIyR1ueeJX4VQW0ghxkmyFPhbvZCCnnfsGLBQMnXKh4yRVQ=s320" width="198" /></a></div><div><br /></div>The last publication I want to look at is HP Lovecraft's <i>Fungi from Yuggoth</i>, his famous sonnet sequence, permission for which I obtained from Arkham House. I wanted to publish this for a hew reasons. I believe there is a story told in the course of the sonnets, and argued that in an issue of Robert Price's <i>Crypt of Cthulhu</i>, and continued that argument in this booklet. <i> </i>Though a few Lovecraftian scholars agree, most do not, so over the years it has become a bit of a tempest in a Lovecraftian teacup. The second reason is that I wanted to illustrate the sonnets, in which I was joined by my good friend Nick Petrosino, who is an accomplished artist and designed much of the armor used in the film <i>Army of Darkness</i>. The third reason...well, what HPL fan does not want to become part of the author's mythos? Anyway, again I charged the minimum I could to cover expenses (yes, Nick was paid, I insisted) and postage, only $2.50. I found several listings in my search, but they were all around $50+s&h. I have to admit this surprised the least, as I know first hand how popular anything connected with HPL is.<div><br /></div><div>So, yes, Belloq was indeed correct. Let enough time pass and almost anything, even me, can become respectable and valued. Who knows? Maybe I will end up in that alien museum after all. As a bonus, let me leave you with one of Nick's illustrations, the one he did for "Antarktos," one of the sonnets.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjnlpPAVSLgjxzWGB_HRjOpqAY4bXX4SVtTWU6B3QqTx-Y7kXTONutRUmM_cRtXVchFwgtEo_1-YzXUfGMGOduKkO6iXoWNc5uus_ui4wDV9I5TzNVu-CxpJ0jK8-09qDN3hvHwHabKDGDodeD8rdT0M3BB7CF4fwRcKjMNaO6zKQXb0M91oX8_cwUxWQ=s400" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="248" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjnlpPAVSLgjxzWGB_HRjOpqAY4bXX4SVtTWU6B3QqTx-Y7kXTONutRUmM_cRtXVchFwgtEo_1-YzXUfGMGOduKkO6iXoWNc5uus_ui4wDV9I5TzNVu-CxpJ0jK8-09qDN3hvHwHabKDGDodeD8rdT0M3BB7CF4fwRcKjMNaO6zKQXb0M91oX8_cwUxWQ=w397-h640" width="397" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><div></div><blockquote><div>Deep in my dream the great bird whispered queerly</div><div>Of the black cone amid the polar waste;</div><div>Pushing above the ice-sheet lone and drearly,</div><div>By storm-crazed aeons battered and defaced.</div><div>Hither no living earth-shapes take their courses,</div><div>And only pale auroras and faint suns</div><div>Glow on that pitted rock, whose primal sources</div><div>Are guessed at dimly by the Elder Ones.</div><div><br /></div><div>If men should glimpse it, they would merely wonder</div><div>What tricky mound of Nature’s build they spied;</div><div>But the bird told of vaster parts, that under</div><div>The mile-deep ice-shroud crouch and brood and bide.</div><div>God help the dreamer whose mad visions shew</div><div>Those dead eyes set in crystal gulfs below!</div></blockquote><p style="text-align: center;">--H.P. Lovecraft </p><div></div></div>Ralph E. Vaughanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06326668196800976578noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692638741373905099.post-82174962168221679132022-02-17T16:44:00.009-08:002022-02-17T20:07:58.541-08:00A Dog's Tale<p style="text-align: justify;"> Anyone who has read the books in the <i>Paws & Claws</i> series knows what a soft spot I have for dogs. I have read dozens of books about dogs and books with canine characters in supporting rolls. That includes novels such as <i>White Fang </i>(1906)<i>, Greyfriars Bobby</i> (1912) and <i>The Incredible Journey</i> (1961). That also covers quite a few novels that were, to be honest, dogs, and innumerable collections and anthologies with stories that ranged from absolutely the best to you gotta be kidding. This affection even extends to commercials. I sit/stay for the dog-tested/dog-approved commercials from Subaru.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Wildside Press is one of my favorite publishers because of the work they've done to keep in print the work of Golden Age SF & Mystery writers, many of whom have been unfairly forgotten these days. In addition to their "Megapack" collections, they also publish individual shorter works, generally novellas and novelettes, but also some superlative short stories. A case in point is "The Keepers of the House" by Lester del Rey.</p><p style="text-align: justify;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.fantasticfiction.com/d/lester-del-rey/keepers-of-the-house.htm" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="421" data-original-width="316" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjiFYnSkhH4kAIHEPDcQNvyRe4QnyzbqhVUmV7341jvzubQH7CtZ39WQ9LIE1PQgdfXCeG3sY9J6DBanRbxf_e-QfTbPQyPRqAk5qyl9y8hIVDV4qHXZV5BlI_0jFKuvJSM0So40hho_qovRCwzjq7BuArkcmTkwnhO7zzg2DA5u6mbYwU-Ib8PohXthA=w150-h200" width="150" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Available <a href="https://www.fantasticfiction.com/d/lester-del-rey/keepers-of-the-house.htm" target="_blank">where e-books are sold</a></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;">Lester del Rey (1915-1993) is the pseudonym of Leonard Knapp. A major author during the Golden Age of Science Fiction, he is known for such classics as <i>Nerves</i> and <i>Helen O'Loy</i>. He became an influential editor and publisher when he and his wife Judy Lynn del Rey, founded Del Rey Books in 1977, now an imprint of Random House.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">In "The Keepers of the House," we meet King, a dog who has been wandering a long time in a world that seems devoid of people. It also seems devoid of land animals since King spends most of his time along rivers catching fish. We begin to understand King is no ordinary dog as he recalls scenes and instances from decades past. If you know dogs at all, you know that one of the cruelest truths of dog ownership is that dogs do not live nearly long enough. The legendary Levi, my pal Skipper and the incomparable Mr Yoda all crossed the Bridge after 19 years, an extraordinary length of time in the canine world, but all too short for me.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">In the course of the story, King returns to where it all began for him, the source of his dreams for the past thirty years. It is the campus of a university within a dead and silent city. One of the problems in any apocalyptic science fiction story is relaying information to the reader in a way that is not confusing or boring. That is hard enough when you have an omniscient narrator and/or human characters. The problem here is compounded because, even though there is third-person narration, everything has to be filtered though the limitations and sensibilities of a dog's intellect and experience. However, del Rey does an excellent job, giving us just enough background while never letting us forget that King is just a dog, albeit an extraordinary example of his species.</p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p><div style="text-align: justify;">"The Keepers of the House" was first published in the January 1956 issue of <i>Fantastic Universe Science Fiction</i> magazine. Two years later, it was reprinted in the July 1958 (#73) issue of the British periodical <i>New Worlds Science Fiction. </i>The term "keepers of the house" was probably puzzling to readers at the time, and is apparently just as puzzling to modern readers as well. Few have encountered it except the context of the 1964 novel of the same name by Shirley Ann Grau, a multi-generational saga with themes of racism and hypocrisy in the Deep South. Unfortunately, the true meaning of the phrase is lost in the themes and controversies of the story.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg6Vdibi8ksuQXJqyN4KPv21BGHN20A69C71GOYNzf_pjQyUA5n6lUFp0n3OBkGX6PO_h227zoSRZ6UXNA5sGMVDN7dtHvWWBNK3glIJK_NqB-Jz-qs8fOqfK_-yKbQbGln9Sy3wkQATa0Sn8uC2myfhL8Q3dW8M9IHoYPjAodGTB5hIO1livZdqU4-SA=s499" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="499" data-original-width="348" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg6Vdibi8ksuQXJqyN4KPv21BGHN20A69C71GOYNzf_pjQyUA5n6lUFp0n3OBkGX6PO_h227zoSRZ6UXNA5sGMVDN7dtHvWWBNK3glIJK_NqB-Jz-qs8fOqfK_-yKbQbGln9Sy3wkQATa0Sn8uC2myfhL8Q3dW8M9IHoYPjAodGTB5hIO1livZdqU4-SA=w139-h200" width="139" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhwMVete8dzfUw8wU-fcV7OfoaS4z1nXRdd1_irn4LzadqyNouvwKv3v3dyi_ecVKVx6x0xO8-AZdSth8U5kO-ONjHXG57jv_qDj3jYEnZithN6o82Ab21cxlznVSO-2y5VIy0pqcr3DiSXVkNvuJqDvNorg3uEvPILMTEsuRPO5vidaT1pu_gvbd-oSg=s600" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="416" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhwMVete8dzfUw8wU-fcV7OfoaS4z1nXRdd1_irn4LzadqyNouvwKv3v3dyi_ecVKVx6x0xO8-AZdSth8U5kO-ONjHXG57jv_qDj3jYEnZithN6o82Ab21cxlznVSO-2y5VIy0pqcr3DiSXVkNvuJqDvNorg3uEvPILMTEsuRPO5vidaT1pu_gvbd-oSg=w139-h200" width="139" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Actually, the term is taken from Ecclesiastes 12:3 in the Bible:</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><blockquote>"In the day when the keepers of the house shall tremble, and the strong men shall bow themselves, and the grinders cease because they are few, and those that look out of the windows be darkened..."</blockquote></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Del Rey's interpretation of the verse is more in keeping with its darker original meaning, though, of course, it is filtered through the tropes of science fiction. In the story, the "keepers of the house," essentially the humans who were given stewardship of the world, have failed in their appointed task. They have failed in the eyes of God, failed in their responsibilities to each other and themselves, and have utterly failed King. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I don't know when I last felt so affected by a story. I doubt it would have affected me so deeply had the protagonist been a human. Though humans often portray themselves as victims of others, there is always the underlying truth that we are actually victims of our own choices, right and wrong, and our fates are ultimately in our own clumsy hands. King's fate -- and this is true of all pets -- is in our hands, and in that we failed him, doomed him to wander, just as the government doomed thousands of war dogs abandoned in Vietnam and Afghanistan. Dogs may be Man's best friend, but, more often than not, it is a one-sided loyalty, and we are mostly undeserving of that loyalty. That, perhaps, is the best lesson to take away from "The Keepers of the House."</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>Ralph E. Vaughanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06326668196800976578noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692638741373905099.post-20617414216960839552022-02-10T11:24:00.000-08:002022-02-10T11:24:05.684-08:00Whatever Happened to Space Cruiser C-57D?<p style="text-align: justify;"><i></i></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><i><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhMe7EcDDo5M-63SAfPO3NJzidRMnBZ8pu4s6IwrqZDXcy2LF625fvOZKSrqFld31lAdsdE0N-DBwLrADhc5Hw7Xfr9qBpYa5Hg8xuR76w0--DhSmsguRQfH1KCqnYKQ8qJc8rypOT9gg_vUpA0NCrwthTIQdYvaV_qSYmL1XJBRpH8FbzBfcXuYIApoA=s1500" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1150" data-original-width="1500" height="245" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhMe7EcDDo5M-63SAfPO3NJzidRMnBZ8pu4s6IwrqZDXcy2LF625fvOZKSrqFld31lAdsdE0N-DBwLrADhc5Hw7Xfr9qBpYa5Hg8xuR76w0--DhSmsguRQfH1KCqnYKQ8qJc8rypOT9gg_vUpA0NCrwthTIQdYvaV_qSYmL1XJBRpH8FbzBfcXuYIApoA=w320-h245" width="320" /></a></div><br />Forbidden Planet</i> (1956) is one of those films that stays with you. It must, because I recall seeing it when it first played at the Bay Theatre in National City. Back in those days, people arrived at the theater whenever they arrived. If they arrived late for the start of a film, they stayed until the film restarted, leaving when they could say, "Ah, this is where I came in." My parents were not great film goers and not at all science fiction fans, so I'm really surprised they went to this film at all. I don't recall the other film, cartoon, newsreel or serial that was also shown that day, but I do recall when they left ("Ah, this is where we came in") because, as I was being carried out (I was much smaller in those days), I saw, over my dad's shoulder, the steps leading to the spaceship bending under the weight of the "monster from the id." I really wanted to stay, but, given that I had already seen the monster, I also really wanted to leave. Looking back, I think I was actually more frightened of the invisible menace, the sight of those metal steps bending when I could see nothing upon them, than I was of the roaring, fiery creature that manifested itself from the savage and primal "id" of Doctor Morbius, augmented by the technomagical devices of the lost Krell Civilization. It is a great film and still holds up now, nearly seventy years later. Unfortunately, MGM chose not to cash in on the success of its surprise hit. So, we have been left to wonder all these years, whatever happened to Space Cruiser C-57D and its intrepid crew after escaping the destruction of Altair IV?<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj8XZBKXb1CyAvnNMmc3nrMUDBS_yyfKLSgT9TIP5jiYueu4nuVmmv7OxMWgzku68her8241QQqUyFzUC1kTO5CsVl1N4zLYgP5E7qJd3SFmUsvzi_Vnje8-q81-1g-WfsEgyHlBD2mFPLzA7jziFt1WvhYtYmTcrpI1nmI4ss2OQmYhFthjNPec-tpiw=s450" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="180" data-original-width="450" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj8XZBKXb1CyAvnNMmc3nrMUDBS_yyfKLSgT9TIP5jiYueu4nuVmmv7OxMWgzku68her8241QQqUyFzUC1kTO5CsVl1N4zLYgP5E7qJd3SFmUsvzi_Vnje8-q81-1g-WfsEgyHlBD2mFPLzA7jziFt1WvhYtYmTcrpI1nmI4ss2OQmYhFthjNPec-tpiw=w400-h160" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: justify;">I suppose it was inevitable in this age of fan fiction and instant publication that someone would accept the challenge and give the world the rest of the story. This happened in 2016 when Tony Rubolotta published <i>Forbidden Outpost</i>, a novel "for the fans of Forbidden Planet."</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01EDDUAJK" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="494" data-original-width="367" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgbnmSq8eiN4dYF1dtLGRxUb6JxKyAqPsGrTZbjj7sw2GEKYYknO2SZ19mT2523rPNT2IErPPPhWcrXRMikMAMSO0oxitPaxgK5xKC0PPmfBpA-8IuLCnekdFPD6MS8bvRuGt1vE5KOMHH03-4Q0jBTBDznNYdRLK0iIug5W_dTwxyLFqbRJs4_emcUuQ=s320" width="238" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01EDDUAJK" target="_blank">Available from Amazon</a></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p style="text-align: justify;">The rubber-stamped "AMAZING!" on the cover is taken from the promotional poster and lobby card of the film, but it's a fairly apt description of Rubolotta's story. Although there are a few awkward plot elements and an intrusion from a notable frontier stereotype, the author does a very good job of carrying the story forward, expanding upon the characters from the film and fleshing out the world of the United Planets, which was only mentioned in passing in the original film. And, of course, we find out more about the mysterious Krell...a lot more.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">I thought one of the most clever aspects of the story was how Rubolotto depicted the human settlement on the planet where a hidden outpost of the Krell survived unsuspected. Instead of reaching into our future, which would have been the book's present, he instead went Retro, drawing upon Mid-Century tropes, types and architecture. Really, it's a great idea. The 1950s is just ancient and alien to the characters in the book as it is to most people now. I don't want to give away anything of the story, but if you like the film, you'll probably like the book.</p>Ralph E. Vaughanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06326668196800976578noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692638741373905099.post-1865390943387214902022-01-14T22:07:00.000-08:002022-01-14T22:07:06.198-08:00"Holmes, I do not think we are in London anymore."<p style="text-align: justify;">So, what am I reading at the moment? Well, among many other things a delightful Sherlock Holmes pastiche entitled <i style="font-weight: bold;">Sherlock Holmes in Oz </i>by my good friend Gary Lovisi.<i style="font-weight: bold;"> </i>Yes, as odd as that sounds, Sherlock Holmes, that master of logic and deduction, finds himself in the Wonderful World of Oz, complete with Munchkins, the Yellow Brick Road and, of course, a certain Wicked Witch. A word of warning, however, Gary has based his story on the original 1900 book <i>The Wonderful Wizard of Oz </i>by L. Frank Baum, so don't expect Holmes to break into song with choruses of Munchkins or search for the Ruby Slippers. Those are all products of Hollyweird, not L. Frank Baum's febrile imagination. Adding to the invocation of the original book are the wonderful illustrations by Lucile Cali which are based on the period images by W.W. Denslow.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjZFQus7YBiXzzMRfL7UE-cL9Igysh_-oDLIGo7c8K34dpde1VD3yX8BVGhabnHk14q0_mi3dBdAM2PB-cKrWADJ7CaQklB1PE65iKHCHRZJGl8WcNtl8gnBqjGgRkY5ICLYgUUYz7BLgokw1XR3Pzbs2Bj-BPO4ptycj6WpmjNaQMCgeHes6jep3Tgdg=s719" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="719" data-original-width="403" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjZFQus7YBiXzzMRfL7UE-cL9Igysh_-oDLIGo7c8K34dpde1VD3yX8BVGhabnHk14q0_mi3dBdAM2PB-cKrWADJ7CaQklB1PE65iKHCHRZJGl8WcNtl8gnBqjGgRkY5ICLYgUUYz7BLgokw1XR3Pzbs2Bj-BPO4ptycj6WpmjNaQMCgeHes6jep3Tgdg=s320" width="179" /></a></div><a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09NDYL53Q/" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="240" data-original-width="160" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjq95Y3XF2pMBP7ofqQXiiUWavRKv8-GVuFW08NXdcQCtyn4W6rOU7Mjr386FrhdplGGB7BWCWquMvLKZbgpxXPYDrYbaY6BAe_mOQGD9bOvLl_5tLQ3qeNmGef9Q3aqfzMVumQ1EaCtznlHVqZyRvs7daYv046mqZxzKiZesoM7_5AZfBFZIKFgNwCpQ=w213-h320" width="213" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The story begins in London with a new menace taking shape in the East End, an insidious drug involving Red Poppies. Some of the police detectives refer to the addicts as Opium Zombies, resulting in the acronym...well, you get the idea. We also get a flashback to an old case of Holmes', "The Sign of Four," the story in which Dr Watson met of the first of his many wives of indefinite number. Despite this new and pressing case and pressure from Scotland Yard for Holmes' help, the Great Detective decides to help his good friend and biographer Dr John Watson find his great-niece Dorothy, who has gone missing from the plains of Kansas after a great storm.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Gary does a great job of depicting Holmes and Watson, though his vision of Holmes is of a more caring and compassionate man than the one depicted in Watson's jottings. It must be remembered, however, that Watson was writing for a more Penny Dreadful audience, so presenting Holmes as a soulless machine was good for business. It is more likely that Gary's characterization is closer to that of the real Sherlock Holmes. Yet, for all the infusion of humanity, Sherlock Holmes loses nothing of his deductive powers and keen intellect.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">While the story contains many fantastical elements (it is Oz after all), I think Gary does very well in maintaining a suspension of belief while adhering to the tenets of the Canon. He does this through spot-on characterization, good plotting, authentic period dialogue, the drawing in of other authorities (such as Professor Challenger), and the ability to present even the most outlandish situations in a calm and logical light. I enjoyed the book very much and recommend it both Sherlock Holmes and Wizard of Oz fans. It is published by Wildside Press and is available there, on <a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09NDYL53Q/" target="_blank">Amazon</a>, and other bookselling venues, in both print and digital formats.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I have known Gary Lovisi for a long time. He is a great writer and editor, is the the owner of the legendary <a href="http://www.gryphonbooks.com/" target="_blank">Gryphon Books</a>, is an expert on Sherlock Holmes, and frequently contributes to books and magazines about book collecting and pulp fiction, most recently Ed Hulse's <i><a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/168405799X/" target="_blank">The Art of Pulp Fiction</a>. </i></div>Ralph E. Vaughanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06326668196800976578noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692638741373905099.post-21968054342947996112020-07-04T10:07:00.000-07:002020-07-04T10:07:35.378-07:00Approaching Dawn<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Admittedly, quarantine has not brought any real great changes to my life. I now attend church in my living room Sundays, watching the service streaming over the television on YouTube, and I no longer have to make excuses to keep from going out...having to wear one of those blasted masks is reason enough to stay home. And since we stream instead of using cable or satellite, we miss most of the insipid and virtuous/inspirational commercials. Still, though I can tune out the messages and images (the lonely piano, the solitary car, the idiotic idea that a mask is not a mask), I can't ignore the fact that most of us are on lockdown.</div>
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I read recently that many people have discovered the joys of not having to rush about madly, the things that can be accomplished by not going out, a clean garage, for example. Employers/employees have found advantages in working from home. Some have even stated that when all this ends (i.e., when politicians have wrung the last bit of power from the crisis) they might be interested in continuing to work from home. Wanting to stay home to work is but a small step from avoiding people as a matter of principal, a mindset I have had for years. Because of my aversion toward socializing, some have termed me "xenophobic,' which is a fear of strangers (a tribal virtue, not a vice), but I think it might be more "anthrophobic," because it's just people in general, a bit stronger than the common social awkwardness most people seem to have to some degree.</div>
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I wonder if this enforced isolation might eventually morph into an actual aversion, which brings us to Dawn, a planet in Isaac Asimov's novel <i>The Robots of Dawn</i>, third in his Robot Series, which began with the SF Mystery <i>The Caves of Steel</i>. Again, Earth-based detective Elijah Bailey is called to investigate a crime involving Spacers (those who left Earth centuries before during a period of expansionism), but this time it involves him leaving Earth and its "caves of steel" (vast underground cities) and traveling to Dawn. The problem is that, like all Earthers, Detective Bailey suffers from agoraphobia (a fear of open places), a phobia so strong it nearly cripples him; it stems from the people of Earth spending their entire lives living in the teeming subterranean cities under conditions that others would see as claustrophobic.</div>
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The book is wonderfully written and plotted (what novel by Asimov wouldn't be?), though maybe not as well done as the first two books (the aforementioned <i>Caves of Steel</i> and <i>The Naked Sun</i>), but I really don't want to delve into the plot. If you have not read it, I strongly recommend all three.</div>
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What made me think of <i>The Robots of Dawn</i> is what Elijah Bailey discovers when he finally reaches Dawn. He has to deal with the wide-open spaces, the spacious houses and the spaces between people, but he discovers the human inhabitants of Dawn have their own bugaboo phobia. Asimov does not call it anthrophobia, but it is. The isolated houses of the Spacer colonists are self-sufficient, they have robots to run their errands and do their bidding, and if they want to visit anyone they can do so by projecting a holographic image. Over time, the inhabitants of Dawn have developed an intense aversion to actual physical presences, a hindrance to the detective's investigation since he is used to living cheek to jowl with his fellow humans and feels restricted in trying to "read" a hologram.</div>
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So, are we heading toward being like Dawn's inhabitants? We're getting used to not being around people, and while Zoom is nothing like a hologram, it's a step in that direction. We may not have robots to do our fetching and carrying, but we can get anything we need delivered...yeah, that Prime membership is really paying off. Our houses may not be isolated, but it's easy to shut out the world, even with the front door open. </div>
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What would make a conversion from gregariousness to isolationism relatively easy, is that every person really is an island...sorry, John Donne. Despite an incessant bombardment by clueless companies and an increasingly irrelevant government, many people are discoving the truth of the new now: we are all in this...separately, not together. Day by day, we learn we don't need others, we don't need to go out, and if we do need to interact with others, there is Zoom...safe, undemanding, alone and coming with an <b>OFF</b> switch. </div>
Ralph E. Vaughanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06326668196800976578noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692638741373905099.post-50450153423208283762020-03-21T15:15:00.001-07:002020-03-21T15:15:41.536-07:00Writing in the "Age of Plague"<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1BEtczrbGDjI7Vg06xL6IIwm812g865TVuyTK5ifApNjabGjGb-AAVjGER2KOFaXFQ6OMMMAdtBatKJytJ4_UTfdIIrzgWKrLh-DW_JQO0jgknoqC6MiX43gQsMKlMI8g7rf_sDGreKCd/s1600/Defoe_Journal_of_the_Plague_Year+title+page.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1083" data-original-width="607" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1BEtczrbGDjI7Vg06xL6IIwm812g865TVuyTK5ifApNjabGjGb-AAVjGER2KOFaXFQ6OMMMAdtBatKJytJ4_UTfdIIrzgWKrLh-DW_JQO0jgknoqC6MiX43gQsMKlMI8g7rf_sDGreKCd/s320/Defoe_Journal_of_the_Plague_Year+title+page.jpg" width="179" /></a></div>
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When Daniel Defoe published his novel <i>A Journal of the Plague Year</i> in 1722, people did not think it was a novel at all, but an actual account of events in the year 1665. If anything, they considered Defoe (who would have been five at the time) as the editor, and that his editorial contributions were minimal. The book was even more detailed than the celebrated diaries of Samuel Pepys who actually wrote during the Great Plague (1665-1666). In the work, Defoe mentioned real neighborhoods, real people and even wrote about individual houses.</div>
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The book was well received when published and was still well regarded in 1780, but by then it was considered a realistic novel. This is a tribute to Defoe's research skills, for he read hundreds of original documents and interviewed oldsters who had lived through the calamity that struck London, adding to it his own childhood memories. Of course, not every literary scholar and historian considers the case closed on whether or not it's a novel. It lacks the structure of a novel, reads like a memoir and carries a gravitas greater than many historical accounts of the period. The question will probably never be settled.</div>
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It's been 298 years since the publishing of the book, 355 years since the setting of the novel, and modern readers probably don't know that Defoe wrote anything other than <i>Robinson Crusoe</i> (another book taken initially as real history), and even fewer remember their history lessons about the Great Plague. Of course, that may change a bit now that we find ourselves beset by the pestilence out of China, which now goes by the name of COVID19 (it's a trendy thing, giving everything an easy-to-recall acronym or portmanteau designation). Being stuck inside for a few weeks, some people might actually pick up that history book they kept from high school, for some reason.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU5q9HkF4D1h_Boq3NZIJUaFbE2-2vQJOucrqb_6NCYglFVXmJA_SF9D_dWQN4XTjA9DRP13rjeG7SWPcr1tdakDa1pstqoXdQIXC4R06QrfgY7TboxXK8-YXdJuz4AddkvygMSHVhzN0W/s1600/Behind+Thick+Walls.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1003" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU5q9HkF4D1h_Boq3NZIJUaFbE2-2vQJOucrqb_6NCYglFVXmJA_SF9D_dWQN4XTjA9DRP13rjeG7SWPcr1tdakDa1pstqoXdQIXC4R06QrfgY7TboxXK8-YXdJuz4AddkvygMSHVhzN0W/s320/Behind+Thick+Walls.jpg" width="200" /></a>A few years ago, I had a series of dreams that I converted into plots for novels. Pulling a novel out of a dream is nothing new for me, but this was unusual in that it happened over a two-month period and resulted in about forty different plots. The genres were varied, from science fiction to crime to fantasy to western. When I have more ideas than I can immediately do anything with, I usually jot down the idea, include some mnemonics (to jog my memory later) and sketch a few rough ideas as to characters and setting. This time, however, I gave the stories titles, wrote detailed plots and extensive characterizations, and developed cover ideas using GIMP and Canva. I also typed out the first several pages of the story so I could hit the ground running if/when I came back to it.</div>
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After finishing the fifth <a href="http://amzn.to/2m0IDhJ" target="_blank">DCI Ravyn</a> novel, <a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B081959WPP" target="_blank"><i>Murder Amongst the Rushes</i>,</a> I thought it was time to take a brief vacation from dark and legend-haunted Hammershire County and pursue a few other projects. I looked in my files and saw that <i>Behind Thick Walls</i>, an amalgamation of the Crime and Post-Apocalyptic genres was the most developed of the stories. It seemed to me that with a working cover, a complete list of characters with full biographies and about a dozen pages of the novel written, it would be a fairly easy matter to dive into the project and get going. And so, in early November 2019, I started work on the novel and wrote in the beginning blurb...</div>
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<i>"...but there was nothing natural about the plague that swept the world, seemingly in the twinkling of an eye. Earth’s peoples went to sleep in a time beset by wars and rumors of war, secure in their empires of technology and commerce, and awoke to an Age of Plague."</i></blockquote>
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And then, as I worked off and on on it (personal and family situations prevented a concentrated and sustained effort), I found events in the real world warping to mimic the fictional situation. Oh, there were differences, of course. The story is set in Mexico and COVID19 is nowhere near as terrible as the plague in the story, at least not yet. And, while it seems we need only wait out COVID19 (as we did Spanish Flu, Asian Flu and SARS), the plague of the book ("Rot") seems to be the gift that keeps giving.</div>
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When I first started, I drew a measure of inspiration from Defoe's book, Pepys' diaries, and the crime novels of Elmore Leonard. As the year turned, and we entered January and February, I discovered my fictional inspiration pushed aside by the news of the day. And now, with California on lock-down for the foreseeable future, I find myself writing about a society beset by plague while living in a society beset by plague. <a href="https://bookscribbles.blogspot.com/2012/03/are-you-fictional-character.html" target="_blank">Am I (are we all) trapped in a meta-novel?</a> If so, I hope the cosmic writer is not as cavalier with characters, as I often am.</div>
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Hopefully, we won't hear the sound of a <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Typewriter_in_the_Sky" target="_blank">Typewriter in the Sky</a>...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfvUtHXzAq2Mau-xAO0-ICqWAzmSjPdzuO05wXtXBHxOFDAAIJpuX-BaBIk3G5__ZClHF_3SovwOfqo9dcgM14QQSykQ7RdYFksoNR95SvSZK7C0GXUyLfjQxOA6IqKR32rAX6iT_phgCl/s1600/TWITS.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="470" data-original-width="318" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfvUtHXzAq2Mau-xAO0-ICqWAzmSjPdzuO05wXtXBHxOFDAAIJpuX-BaBIk3G5__ZClHF_3SovwOfqo9dcgM14QQSykQ7RdYFksoNR95SvSZK7C0GXUyLfjQxOA6IqKR32rAX6iT_phgCl/s320/TWITS.jpg" width="216" /></a></div>
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Ralph E. Vaughanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06326668196800976578noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692638741373905099.post-23101025994130517412020-01-29T09:15:00.000-08:002020-01-29T09:15:09.793-08:00More than a Thousand Words<div style="text-align: justify;">
Norwegian playwright Henrik Ibsen told us late in the 19th Century, "A thousand words does not leave the same deep impression as one good deed." Today, thanks to the San Antonio <i>Light</i> hawking its pictorial coverage of the Great War in 1918, we have the phrase as "a picture is worth a thousand words." Fiction magazines used to illustrate stories with drawings, paintings and even lithographs, but these days, with fiction magazines all but gone, the relationship between story and art is mostly limited to the book cover, which may or may not actually illustrate some aspect of the story. Usually, it's more along the lines of "inspired by" or "suggested by" rather than actually illustrating; in the case of the great <a href="https://bookscribbles.blogspot.com/2011/11/unique-powers.html" target="_blank">Richard Powers</a>, it was more "I captured the spirit of the book" or "The book is really weird and so is my painting."</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguI46U6CdxIw6qtLiTJChz1d1TJDnZI9bkGLX9G1Nbx-cDDSpv-VVF1e34gafNLXLs2RgNlBRZHGJH-aeEUH15VmDCRb2XyRvf0bA_h5RG8sVEhha4VllCAitSPIL5akUcKQGyTJD49nep/s1600/pic4writing.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="335" data-original-width="206" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguI46U6CdxIw6qtLiTJChz1d1TJDnZI9bkGLX9G1Nbx-cDDSpv-VVF1e34gafNLXLs2RgNlBRZHGJH-aeEUH15VmDCRb2XyRvf0bA_h5RG8sVEhha4VllCAitSPIL5akUcKQGyTJD49nep/s200/pic4writing.JPG" width="122" /></a>We usually think of the story creating the art, but it can also flow the other way, the art inspiring the words. This is what happened when Edwin Markham saw French artist Jean-François Millet's painting <i>L'homme à la houe</i> and wrote the powerful poem "The Man with the Hoe." When I took a creative writing class at Castle Park High School (it was the first of its kind in the district, strictly experimental) we used a book called <i>Pictures for Writing</i>. This approach was particularly helpful for class members who could write well, but had problems finding inspiration. There were a few other books in the series. The problem that some had with the technique, however, was that they could not get beyond whatever they saw in the picture. Others did quite well transferring the old journalist's mantra of "5W's & an H" (Who, What, Where, When, Why & How) to discover the hidden story. My only problem was that every picture inspired me to write a science fiction or fantasy story; these days, however, it would have been a mystery/suspense story. There were times when I almost felt sorry for Mr Ligon (our teacher) when he read my story, looked at the assigned photo and shook his head in dismay and confusion. </div>
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Back in the 80's and 90's, I was very active in the small press movement, a kind of counter-traditional publishing that evolved in the later part of the 19th Century. It often took the form of publishing one's own work, but small or "craft" presses also came into being. Until the 60's, when specialized paperbacks took over from the pulps and traditional publishers discovered a new market, science fiction and fantasy novels were published by the likes of Shasta Press and Gnome Books, after first being serialized in genre magazines. Alas, the small press is no more, for which I blame the Internet and Amazon, my usual Black Hats for things that cannot be blamed on the Usual Suspects...fans of The Lone Gunmen will understand. Most of that involvement on my part was as author and publisher, but I also sometimes snuck in as an artist.</div>
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However, I never tried to pass myself off as an "artist;" I usually told myself I was just an illustrator, an interpreter of someone else's talent. I read the stories and tried to give the author's words life, choosing just that particular moment that would emphasize the action or distill the essence of the story into vivid graphics. It was just a hobby and I was flattered that people asked me to help them out with their projects. I hope I succeeded more often that I failed. Here are a few of my efforts from published stories:</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6HyBvyxmx5k9cpnbD3fbvyEf4U2NvogniNdjtpIIoCLXJPBBt5WFFW0I1tTC9LP_LRPNf-L-YOOxyQu6N8ZiHvmhRDkMHEoJq2FspOU-wpiB1lDz93YMKhkQxmwtynb2Zkihb9jzRxCHs/s1600/plant02.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1316" data-original-width="940" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6HyBvyxmx5k9cpnbD3fbvyEf4U2NvogniNdjtpIIoCLXJPBBt5WFFW0I1tTC9LP_LRPNf-L-YOOxyQu6N8ZiHvmhRDkMHEoJq2FspOU-wpiB1lDz93YMKhkQxmwtynb2Zkihb9jzRxCHs/s200/plant02.jpg" width="142" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A Plant-man from a re-issue<br /> of one of ERB's Barsoom stories.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghy6xVk5ei-PLhTnOI9DUuTFJTfO9cZRAdUFgRxI87jut_jgwEvtvcoQRSl70yj11QVHaMB9ZI8-L2F7_dcYB1HyAKQ-Hj5-EzwAWkRwceRY7Bqkhry0B2-deFxcsiIOKkDP93O6jECc11/s1600/fd_0001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="689" data-original-width="983" height="140" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghy6xVk5ei-PLhTnOI9DUuTFJTfO9cZRAdUFgRxI87jut_jgwEvtvcoQRSl70yj11QVHaMB9ZI8-L2F7_dcYB1HyAKQ-Hj5-EzwAWkRwceRY7Bqkhry0B2-deFxcsiIOKkDP93O6jECc11/s200/fd_0001.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A sorcerer brings doom upon a city</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGnYwJJ1hlNamLOA7LfvQ7i35NK_8slz0n3fzGBXW0D1-l4sgTGfhLN7bH6Yg3ITk193bymPo7F0u7VJS_ZI1h6oMoPYig3ntu5_cW9hTpeeRKHx3Q2SsJJm-qQDcjgbaaIrFoeIyydttS/s1600/spacefight.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="617" data-original-width="476" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGnYwJJ1hlNamLOA7LfvQ7i35NK_8slz0n3fzGBXW0D1-l4sgTGfhLN7bH6Yg3ITk193bymPo7F0u7VJS_ZI1h6oMoPYig3ntu5_cW9hTpeeRKHx3Q2SsJJm-qQDcjgbaaIrFoeIyydttS/s320/spacefight.jpg" width="244" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pirates attack in this space opera.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7Z0dQBXU-SvTpCT6aEsA3qJhT3P1wm7UkBgG3k22ZSedFiqdHjJMVEtIONzB9CkZ0_qA79R4yDpGjUaZQVVIHzhhpadwSy20XnMMkvs_res3EN1sKq_ToLe7VoX3p8OOpeNnQc1u6Lg6Q/s1600/keltic+seer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="427" data-original-width="658" height="206" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7Z0dQBXU-SvTpCT6aEsA3qJhT3P1wm7UkBgG3k22ZSedFiqdHjJMVEtIONzB9CkZ0_qA79R4yDpGjUaZQVVIHzhhpadwSy20XnMMkvs_res3EN1sKq_ToLe7VoX3p8OOpeNnQc1u6Lg6Q/s320/keltic+seer.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A strange cloaked figure wanders through a Celtic land.</td></tr>
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<span style="text-align: justify;">Sometimes, I drew illustrations that I would use as a basis for a story, or sometimes I gave them to friends who mined them for stories and poems. However, most of those drawings and paintings I no longer have. This was back in the day before computers and scanners were part of my life. I sent out originals of the works, which were gifts to friends (other small press writers and publishers), whether of not they used them. I do still have a few, though:</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilP2I9Qvkx9yx6lGJ-JgAeBsS1PIBQgSGyTWgnHNLOLFKP4nMFhHTJLz4J_-qcCptlbixVa5ouiEZs150u2HLf8G-0C0I9-0L5uvs-iotPw6zC20ZXzFZ1h08RHv1mREwuvv2nhH9RKSy_/s1600/IMG_0022_NEW.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="699" data-original-width="507" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilP2I9Qvkx9yx6lGJ-JgAeBsS1PIBQgSGyTWgnHNLOLFKP4nMFhHTJLz4J_-qcCptlbixVa5ouiEZs150u2HLf8G-0C0I9-0L5uvs-iotPw6zC20ZXzFZ1h08RHv1mREwuvv2nhH9RKSy_/s200/IMG_0022_NEW.jpg" width="145" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWE6nWisDsBNiilG4UQEydtG9kx2lHlsLDXKzg_gyad7FSm5qcZzIibCe2GqeDw1S6Fj4KqUuNcGJG6wAIx2ioPsVjBrTHNkfoD5tPgZRG19taUILiWCVPVhNQOM0q3DnMrM6os8IoEUtV/s1600/founders_0001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="634" data-original-width="874" height="145" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWE6nWisDsBNiilG4UQEydtG9kx2lHlsLDXKzg_gyad7FSm5qcZzIibCe2GqeDw1S6Fj4KqUuNcGJG6wAIx2ioPsVjBrTHNkfoD5tPgZRG19taUILiWCVPVhNQOM0q3DnMrM6os8IoEUtV/s200/founders_0001.jpg" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1Lu67lajCuaEZ2NYoFuzV6AdBZ1AhYrGJaexmsAYSIAp_-0MKr-EnmULj9S-X8dUzufBGM8zyeaszz33pUtC2jPbRgZ8h63ePF6TQySQEWNiat9LvkiezKsv0yzzXEU474Cn-yehkUqRW/s1600/IMG_0021_NEW.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="624" data-original-width="310" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1Lu67lajCuaEZ2NYoFuzV6AdBZ1AhYrGJaexmsAYSIAp_-0MKr-EnmULj9S-X8dUzufBGM8zyeaszz33pUtC2jPbRgZ8h63ePF6TQySQEWNiat9LvkiezKsv0yzzXEU474Cn-yehkUqRW/s200/IMG_0021_NEW.jpg" width="98" /></a></div>
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For one reason or another, some of them dealing with trauma, others with the more mundane issues of life and and time and events beyond control (and not a little ennui, admittedly), I put away the pens and pencils and papers for a long time. I suppose if there is one thing that can be said with absolute certainty, it's that nothing remains the same, that everything changes. Everything that goes away comes around again, which is why I try to never throw anything away. So, in 2020, I got the drawing bug again. The difference is that, with the demise of the small press, there went my social life. With just a couple of exceptions, everyone I knew from my small press decades have either moved on to other endeavors or passed away. So, now, if the new drawings are to inspire new stories, it will all be up to me...unless others volunteer. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYJ82wtD_z4wTTxGGEizY6Gl0e8reWzUN-q0bLpYd4-kzvS50swWzibXvoeVjFBlmdvZ0aCeGw6TLI8ds-bfmLt8hRsmwofivHG0u6AoD8lZvslGPtEn9C8Mqg_v7R-rNStfeb2cOkG1J-/s1600/Bayou+Woman.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1410" data-original-width="1190" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYJ82wtD_z4wTTxGGEizY6Gl0e8reWzUN-q0bLpYd4-kzvS50swWzibXvoeVjFBlmdvZ0aCeGw6TLI8ds-bfmLt8hRsmwofivHG0u6AoD8lZvslGPtEn9C8Mqg_v7R-rNStfeb2cOkG1J-/s320/Bayou+Woman.jpg" width="270" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She haunts the bayou, lingering in the moist darkness<br />
as she watches isolated points of light, the tiny lanterns<br />
of those whose shacks are far from civilization.<br />
And she waits...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPYpnbwBFVIRM8E_s-v67FHE5qK6ELTlCOdgVs-W4VZm-_GkccTeViWzTFkqGRdAiP2RziJs8Pq3-dPl-gyJ40RNzGeqe4pVdI4ZpxdOr1R-DnFi1sSaxJf0sJbtDc675xCZiHAP2ePPu6/s1600/Canvyrn+and+Rider.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1414" data-original-width="1194" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPYpnbwBFVIRM8E_s-v67FHE5qK6ELTlCOdgVs-W4VZm-_GkccTeViWzTFkqGRdAiP2RziJs8Pq3-dPl-gyJ40RNzGeqe4pVdI4ZpxdOr1R-DnFi1sSaxJf0sJbtDc675xCZiHAP2ePPu6/s320/Canvyrn+and+Rider.jpg" width="270" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Canvyrn leads an unhappy life, enslaved and<br />mistreated by its arrogant and foppish rider;<br />one day there will surely be a reckoning...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLZc1ZloFJ8-fstOCuOJhhOltxUpdhhdj1M_NX4XkcwDwkIxE6Da_CG-AtjbB15VuIwmg9qSGThK9j97sJZlcURG2kNysgIu9Ow-SMr9vlH9DH_ocr7Ei8x1fNi6fW4e6qXSzWEtAH-2zO/s1600/Sand+Rider.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1198" data-original-width="1418" height="270" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLZc1ZloFJ8-fstOCuOJhhOltxUpdhhdj1M_NX4XkcwDwkIxE6Da_CG-AtjbB15VuIwmg9qSGThK9j97sJZlcURG2kNysgIu9Ow-SMr9vlH9DH_ocr7Ei8x1fNi6fW4e6qXSzWEtAH-2zO/s320/Sand+Rider.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Davyn and its rider lead caravans across the shifting sands<br />of the Great Sand Sea. Though the Davyn has a 360 range of<br />view and wears goggles to keep his vision clear, the desert is<br />a dangerous place, full of perils, from savage marauders<br />to ancient evils...</td></tr>
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Ralph E. Vaughanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06326668196800976578noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692638741373905099.post-80667580032712413162020-01-04T08:46:00.000-08:002020-01-04T08:46:32.712-08:00Transformations, Faded Hopes and the Trauma of Change<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie7uBG-5Jb-YoHvWVHd1dUJmZMafNZ6GURS4gPwIjb2cwCMmtKOz4j_K8pY2UxOVy6q-I0BGsQ8Ph3_qHHEEmmHrUXEpucQKERbhtTFavt6J0NqL8NQkZgX6bRt8nLVhVMTlh5AA5HhK3q/s1600/Murder+Amidst+the+Rushes+EBook+Use+This+Other+One.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1003" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie7uBG-5Jb-YoHvWVHd1dUJmZMafNZ6GURS4gPwIjb2cwCMmtKOz4j_K8pY2UxOVy6q-I0BGsQ8Ph3_qHHEEmmHrUXEpucQKERbhtTFavt6J0NqL8NQkZgX6bRt8nLVhVMTlh5AA5HhK3q/s320/Murder+Amidst+the+Rushes+EBook+Use+This+Other+One.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Buy in the <a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B081959WPP" target="_blank">US</a> or <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B081959WPP" target="_blank">UK</a></td></tr>
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With <i>Murder Amidst the Rushes</i>, DCI Arthur Ravyn and DS Leo Stark begin their fifth adventure in the legend-haunted English County of Hammershire, and it starts with two men leaving the Mad Badger pub, walking onto the old brick bridge crossing the River Dresal, and only one returning to the pub's car park.</div>
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Arthur Ravyn has finally recovered from injuries received during the course of events related in <i>Murderer in Shadow</i>. And, finally, Sgt and Mrs Stark have been blessed with their long-anticipated baby, whom they have named Catherine. For once, Ravyn and Stark begin a case without the shadow of Superintendent Heln looming over them; the little fellow has been sent to Paris to attend a crime prevention conference...ah, we can only pity the French.</div>
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Each of the previous books in the series had a specific theme, and this book's is Transformations. We all look for ways to change our lives, but change is never as easy as it should be. All too often, any change we might effect has results neither intended nor anticipated. All of us has been so wracked by changes over the years, either through our own efforts or by the actions of others, that it's hard not to hold the belief that, "All change is bad." And it gets worse as we go along. What might have seemed adventurous in our salad years now seems traumatic. I have to admit, however, I am the wrong person to judge the necessity of change...these days, even moving a chair from one side of a room to another is enough to send me into a glassy-eyed stupor. Yeah, change is never good.</div>
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But, as the characters in <i>Murder Amidst the Rushes</i> find out, there is no escaping the whims of a cruel and often capricious universe. Some hope for relief from a wretched home life, yet have no idea how to escape. Others try to hold on to what they have, yet events beyond understanding or control take away the dreams and aspirations they had achieved. Then there are those who know what they want, think they know how to achieve those goals, and will not let anything, or anyone, get in their way. When greed and ruthless pursuit become the paramount drivers of a man's life, can murder be far behind? As Stark comes to realize, "Gold makes monsters of all men."<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="550" src="https://read.amazon.com/kp/card?asin=B081959WPP&preview=inline&linkCode=kpe&ref_=cm_sw_r_kb_dp_FJleEbFRVKVR6" style="max-width: 100%;" type="text/html" width="336"></iframe>
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The book is available in both digital and print editions on Amazon. If you have a Kindle Unlimited subscription ($9.99/month and well worth it, according to the Wife), you can download it to your e-reader and read it at no extra cost...considering you're paying a subscription fee, I don't use the term "free" as others, including Amazon, do. If you have Prime, but not Kindle Unlimited, I think you can still borrow the book as part of the one book a month you're allowed.<br />
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<i>Murder Amidst the Rushes</i> has been out for about a month now. The response to it has been very encouraging, and it seems to have sparked renewed interest in the entire Ravyn series by those encountering it for the first time.<br />
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For those who have contacted me over the past year with comments and questions, I apologize for the delay in bringing the book into print. It has been a very difficult couple of years, marked by death, illness, surgeries and traumatic events of all sorts. Some I have handled better than others, but each new situation played its part in overcoming my best intentions. Thanks for your patience and encouragement. I truly appreciate your support.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisols3LpG7YFt9xdARSGBmFUONRJo0s6w-AVr6SiGn_ee2ra115cz3ykAdtIjSqw1Ypva786V6TRQ6KJc8B4_2cGxaDc4twkbKMulDQ0u4oefbs7kICr-_QuuTpSI8WLjdUGSQ6NBXfv0H/s1600/Ravyn+Series+Card+03.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="789" data-original-width="940" height="335" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisols3LpG7YFt9xdARSGBmFUONRJo0s6w-AVr6SiGn_ee2ra115cz3ykAdtIjSqw1Ypva786V6TRQ6KJc8B4_2cGxaDc4twkbKMulDQ0u4oefbs7kICr-_QuuTpSI8WLjdUGSQ6NBXfv0H/s400/Ravyn+Series+Card+03.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Click <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B074CF2RS6" target="_blank">HERE</a> to purchase the entire series</td></tr>
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Ralph E. Vaughanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06326668196800976578noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692638741373905099.post-29889702311778414532019-11-22T15:30:00.000-08:002019-11-22T15:30:41.073-08:00"Since our daughter is no longer with us..."<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="text-align: justify;">I have never hidden the fact that a good portion of my life has been wasted watching old cheesy films. Most of that time has, of course, been spent in front of the tv set, starting with a small b&w set that I had to sit close to ("Get back from the tv," Mom would say. "You'll ruin your eyes!"). Today, however, I have a large color set that allows me to sit across the room and watch in relative comfort. On the new set, I can also stream digital content, allowing me to watch more old films than ever, so, yes, still a lot of b&w cheese. In addition to the wandering wasteland of television, I also spent a fair amount of time in theaters.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3ZKJws9sXRZG2IWUUvS7EoMWjg1hb4dvYpA7sVBPJqNz9nQ3wPyrcWATOWM3jhtA-NjvVb7LS5GsJvCVzBdu2z4fDB1wXPJJxDImRIBa4Dj6EKNm3aYrLa9bC4u6VaKYIBvPLReabwMDq/s1600/bay02.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="675" data-original-width="1200" height="112" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3ZKJws9sXRZG2IWUUvS7EoMWjg1hb4dvYpA7sVBPJqNz9nQ3wPyrcWATOWM3jhtA-NjvVb7LS5GsJvCVzBdu2z4fDB1wXPJJxDImRIBa4Dj6EKNm3aYrLa9bC4u6VaKYIBvPLReabwMDq/s200/bay02.jpg" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVSqs6WP8D35bheynVLIF87bzWNYetU7Qp1RzSDxf7RMKzeQG2Q1N2RsSJLc-AmDbebwUY-m74ctCWuLv1CTH0mfUmWbw6MWdOr9-RXoa2c6UPGwLsdRc3axLJ9sWE0lOE1oLKF5LCib_V/s1600/bay01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="353" data-original-width="640" height="110" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVSqs6WP8D35bheynVLIF87bzWNYetU7Qp1RzSDxf7RMKzeQG2Q1N2RsSJLc-AmDbebwUY-m74ctCWuLv1CTH0mfUmWbw6MWdOr9-RXoa2c6UPGwLsdRc3axLJ9sWE0lOE1oLKF5LCib_V/s200/bay01.jpg" width="200" /></a>The first theater I recall is the Bay Theater in National City. It was built in 1941 and had a distinctive tower with BAY written down it. It was neon-lit and visible from all the roads around. I recall many times seeing that tower from the back seat of my father's or grandfather's car and wishing I were there. It really didn't matter to me what was playing as long as I was there, preferably with a box of popcorn, a cup of soda and a tube of Flicks. We lived in the 1100 block of East 17th Street (unpaved then), a little over a mile from the theater. It was too far away for me to walk alone (so my mother claimed), but I frequently walked down to it with the Eleazar kids from across the street...yes, I know, but it was a different world back then and no one called CPS just because kids were being kids. In addition to the films of the time (e.g., <i>Forbidden Planet</i> and <i>Earth vs The Flying Saucers</i>), I also saw newsreels, cartoons and serials, such as <i>Zombies of the Stratosphere</i> ("Isn't that Leonard Nimoy as the Martian?" asks a dubbed voice in <i>J-Men Forever; </i>"I don't know," replies another dubbed voice, "I can't see his ears."). Then we moved to Chula Vista. The Bay Theater later came to an ignominious end -- first it became a Spanish church, then high winds blew the tower down. I don't know if one had anything to do with the other, but at least it was something that wasn't my fault...for once.</div>
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When we moved to Chula Vista, I discovered the local theater, the Vogue, was even father away than the Bay. But, it was still a different world, so off I went. I didn't have older kids to walk with me anymore, but I figured what my mother didn't know couldn't hurt me. Besides, I was nine by then, almost an adult. Yes, I lived dangerously...I even drank water straight out of the hose. You might say I grew up in Chula Vista, but I also grew up in the Vogue Theatre (note the classy English spelling) watching every film my parents wouldn't take me to see...they were never big movie goers, but I never held that against them, much.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIYWp9cNZ1Ws1FlDg624OAgxW5BbgkmeI3UekzZTUrfOQ_0Dy8M9lSUxGwpb54uyqpPNdF66afbD_x7WI8bdr5t8aLymNSCHExmDVRdgonRKqxtJmVcEzv_lybXdJlOMFVMGREdgVK4kfW/s1600/vogue02.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="1000" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIYWp9cNZ1Ws1FlDg624OAgxW5BbgkmeI3UekzZTUrfOQ_0Dy8M9lSUxGwpb54uyqpPNdF66afbD_x7WI8bdr5t8aLymNSCHExmDVRdgonRKqxtJmVcEzv_lybXdJlOMFVMGREdgVK4kfW/s320/vogue02.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Vogue in better days</td></tr>
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When the Wife and I had kids, I looked forward to not going to the cinema alone...the Wife would go from time to time, but she did not revel in the experience as I did. Too many people, she claimed. Especially too many unruly kids. I have to admit, she had a point there. When I went to the movies as a kid, I was never unruly. No, really! It would have been a shock to both my mother and my teachers had they seen how well behaved I was when the lights went down, the curtains parted and the film began. But I was there for the film, and once the film started, I was a part of it, totally absorbed.</div>
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Unfortunately, our son was never really a devoted film goer. Oh, he like going to the movies, all right, but it had to be a film he was interested in, such as <i>Star Wars</i>. Our daughter (the Kidette), however, had tastes that were as catholic as mine. Well, let's just say she didn't complain no matter what film I dragged her to. Likewise, I can't count the number of chick-flicks and teen-angst movies she took me to. And, please, don't ask me how many times I saw <i>Center Stage</i>. But it was all enjoyable, every single film. Mostly, though, because the Kidette was with me.</div>
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One of our traditions was to get a tub of popcorn and a large soda. The Vogue had a policy that if you brought back the receipt you got a free refill. Great. Whether it was a double feature or a triple, we had more than enough to last us to the final end credits of the final movie, and we always stayed for the last credit. Unfortunately, time passed and our daughter moved. I was back to solitary viewings. </div>
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It should have occurred to me that I could not possibly eat two full tubs of buttered popcorn, but it didn't. The first time I went without the Kidette, I bought a tub and was more than stuffed by the time I got to the end of it. What to do? My Protestant ethic screamed at the prospect of that free refill going to waste. I then noticed a mom and her kids sitting in front of me. They had no popcorn.</div>
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Me: Pardon me ma'am, but would you and your kids like a free popcorn?<br />
Her: Uh...<br />
Me: I have a receipt for a tub of popcorn, and the theater gives free refills.<br />
Her: Uh...well...<br />
Me: My daughter and I used to share a tub at the movies, but she's no longer with us, and I can't eat the whole thing myself.<br />
Her: Oh, you poor man. I am so sorry. Thank you very much.</blockquote>
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After she took the receipt and scurried off to get the free popcorn, I realized how she must have interpreted what I said. I changed seats. "Dad!" my daughter scolded. "You made her think I was dead. I only moved out. I didn't die!" Well, really, is my fault she took it that way? I didn't say anything that wasn't true...that's my story and I'm sticking to it.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Vogue in badder days</td></tr>
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Unfortunately, nothing lasts forever, and just as that applies to little boys and dragons, so it also applies to movie theaters. The Vogue opened in the winter of 1945 and closed its doors in the summer of 2006, after showing a triple-feature of <i>Fast & Furious: Tokyo Drift, Over the Hedge </i>and <i>Poseidon</i>. I really didn't want to tell the Kidette about the fate of our beloved theater. So when she came down for a visit I put her in the car and drove down Third Avenue. She didn't cry...well, not much.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Vogue's Facebook page - link below</td></tr>
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Sometimes the dead return, or so Stephen King and HP Lovecraft tell us, and that may be the fate of the Vogue. According to its <a href="https://www.facebook.com/thevoguetheater/" target="_blank">Facebook</a> page, the Vogue is being renovated as an entertainment, event and dining/drinking experience. They also claim they are going to maintain the historic exterior. I hope that's true, but, of course, it will never be the same. Still, if I look at the facade and see it restored to its former glory, I will fondly relive better days. If all that comes to pass, I will probably go to the proposed outdoor dining area, have a beer and raise a glass to toast my my movie memories.</div>
Ralph E. Vaughanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06326668196800976578noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692638741373905099.post-67046594692600543502019-09-11T09:37:00.000-07:002019-09-11T09:37:06.356-07:00Elder Egypt, Again<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Back in the early 90s, when everyone was discovering the internet in a big way and everyone who was no one (and a few who were someone) was setting up a website -- "Hey, Ma! Look! I got my own place on the Information Superhighway!" -- I also set up a website. It was dedicated to Ancient Egypt, a long-time interest of mine. Once a month, I would post a well-researched, thoroughly illustrated article about some aspect of Egypt. The real purpose of the site, however, was to help students with their Egypt-related school projects. I received several emails per day, from elementary schoolers to university students. I didn't do their homework for them, but I pointed them in the right direction and gave them the tools to do their projects. And I answered a lot of questions, usually based on some misconception derived from a film (i.e., the reboot of <i>The Mummy</i>).</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"No, sorry, Nigel, but scarabs are slow moving dung beetles,<br />
not cheetah-swift piranha-like insects that can strip the flesh<br />
from some hapless explorer in 3.7 seconds. It's called 'special effects'."</td></tr>
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About the same time, I fell into one of those "virtual communities" that were popping up all over the internet at the time. It was, of course, based on Ancient Egypt and everyone pretended they lived upon the shores of an electronic Nile. Not really being a big role-player, I gravitated toward the community newsletter, <i>The Papyrus</i>, and contributed articles. It was all lots of fun, but like the real Ancient Egypt, it all eventually subsided into the sands of time...the community, the newsletter, and, finally, my homework helper website.</div>
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Now, not quite thirty years later, I've dusted off and revised the old articles, penned quite a few more and resurrected them in a new venue as <i>Enigmas of Elder Egypt</i>. Here's a sample:<br />
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<br />Ralph E. Vaughanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06326668196800976578noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692638741373905099.post-69018124471202607552019-09-07T11:10:00.000-07:002019-09-07T11:10:23.025-07:00The Gods Hate Kansas?<div style="text-align: justify;">
A large portion of my wasted youth was spent eroding my brain by watching cheesy old films. Well, some things don't change, so a few days ago I was looking for something to further erode my brain on Amazon Fire Streaming, when I came across a film called <i>They Came from Beyond Space,</i> a 1967 flick from Amicus Productions, a company I mostly knew from some very good Edgar Rice Burroughs adaptations and two really, really bad <i>Doctor Who </i>TV movies. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYx079F5Ez16eMUNWiczSRh08BfbN8zgeX1HpoJVmgBxDuuYgUcacgYXsit8XcFTgYIeqZrP1gA0GNBWZuiz1aXOIHdLoiPhZp2SnAi7DifbE73SDGo8Wky8Sxm1wFW8Vf_b1rsGyqxCzY/s1600/They_Came_From_Beyond_Space_FilmPoster.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="385" data-original-width="259" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYx079F5Ez16eMUNWiczSRh08BfbN8zgeX1HpoJVmgBxDuuYgUcacgYXsit8XcFTgYIeqZrP1gA0GNBWZuiz1aXOIHdLoiPhZp2SnAi7DifbE73SDGo8Wky8Sxm1wFW8Vf_b1rsGyqxCzY/s200/They_Came_From_Beyond_Space_FilmPoster.jpeg" width="134" /></a></div>
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I thought, well, it could be an undiscovered gem or it might be dreck. Either way, it's 85 minutes. And I thought it would at least be passable, it being a British film. Yes, I know...I saw <i>Devil Girl from Mars,</i> but at least everyone had a British accent, and that automatically makes everything classier, such as when a developer names a housing development Robin Hood Estates rather than Pleasant Acres. But, then I recalled <i>The Crawling Eye</i> and how Tempean Films imported American actor Forrest Tucker (<i>F Troop</i>) to play the lead or how Hammer Films brought in Brian Donlevy to play the quintessential British scientist Professor Bernard Quatermass in the 1955 theatrical version of <i>The Quatermass Experiment</i>. So I gave in and took a sneak peek at IMDB: the lead actor is American Robert Hutton, but at least <i>almost everyone</i> will have a British accent. And it will still be 85 minutes. And I still had nothing else to do at the moment. So I queued the film and pressed start.</div>
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From almost the beginning of the film, I got a sense of <i>deja vu</i>, but when you have seen as many films as I have (I bought the book <i>Science Fiction Films of the Fifties</i>, and it was like reading the story of my youth) it's a common feeling. About the time they mentioned meteorites falling in a field and Hutton's character having a metal plate in his head, I thought: <i>The Gods Hate Kansas</i>, in which meteorites fall in a Kansas field and a character has a metal plate in his head preventing him from being taken over by alien intelligences hidden inside the meteorites. I also thought of "Corpus Earthling," an episode of <i>The Outer Limits </i>(original), but since that was about a scientist with a metal plate in his head that allowed him to listen to rocks plotting world domination, that was a totally different thing altogether. Well, mostly different. Well, at least the meteorites in <i>They Came from Beyond Space </i>and <i>The Gods Hate Kansas </i>didn't talk. A quick look trip back to IMDB confirmed my suspicion, that the film was indeed based on a book I didn't think anyone else besides me had ever read.</div>
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<i>The Gods Hate Kansas</i> was written by Joseph J. Millard (1908 - 1989) and first published in <i>Startling Stories</i> in 1941, then again in 1952 as a reprint in <i>Fantastic Story Magazine</i>. The version I read was a mass market paperback published by Monarch Books in 1964 with a very nice pulpish cover by Jack Thurston (1919 - 2017). Millard's flirtation with science fiction occupied only the first half of the Forties, after which he went on to be a teacher, and he confined his writing to westerns, memoirs, biographies, essays and poetry.</div>
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There are some differences between book and film, but when are there not? When David Morell's debut novel <i>First Blood</i> was optioned to be filmed as <i>Rambo</i>, the question of a sequel came up. Morell was perplexed by the idea. He asked, "How can there be a sequel when I've killed everyone off?" Older and wiser Hollywood hands told him, "If the movie is successful, there will be a sequel, no matter how they have to change your book. And the book <i>will</i> be changed. If they want to make it into a musical aboard a submarine, that's what they'll do." Fortunately, Rambo did not become an underwater musical, and neither were there any tremendous changes between <i>The Gods Hate Kansas</i> and <i>They Came from Beyond Space</i>.</div>
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The greatest changes are that the field is in England, not Kansas, and though the gods may still hate Kansas (more meteors fall there than anywhere else, according to the book) they don't hate England. The landing site still goes "dark" and the scientists begin acting weird. The metal plate is still in the main character's head and it still keeps him from being taken over by the aliens. The aliens are still tired of being marooned on the Moon and still want to use our planet's resources to escape their long imprisonment. And the moral of the story is still the same: "Why didn't you simply ask us for help?"</div>
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One other thing that's also the same -- the science. Millard was a good writer, but science was not his forte. When one of the aliens was told that no known propulsion system on earth could get a rocket to the Moon and back in less than 24 hours, the alien replies: "Our propulsion system was not developed on Earth." All in all, it's probably a good thing Millard found his calling in education and genres other than science fiction.</div>
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I have to admit, I did enjoy the film, but probably will not revisit it. That's something else the film has in common with the book.</div>
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If you're also into slightly cheesy science fiction, you might try my two steampunk novels, <i><a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00ENVLUEM/" target="_blank">Shadows Against the Empire</a> </i>and <i><a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00XSGRMBI" target="_blank">Amidst Dark Satanic Mills</a></i>. For the thousands who prefer not to do business with Amazon you can get <i><a href="https://books2read.com/u/4DOz0e" target="_blank">Shadows Against the Empire</a></i> and <i><a href="https://books2read.com/u/bP0d6A" target="_blank">Amidst Dark Satanic Mills</a></i> from your favorite e-book retailer or even ask your local library to stock them through Overdrive. For those who have already read the Folkestone & Hand Interplanetary Steampunk Adventures, a third book in the series, <i>The Spirit-Haunted Moon</i> will be published in 2020. Thanks for your support.</div>
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Ralph E. Vaughanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06326668196800976578noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692638741373905099.post-32800079964857310342019-07-11T11:37:00.001-07:002019-07-11T22:21:11.502-07:00As Time Goes By<br />
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It's been awhile since I last shared anything, but time passes no matter what we do. Our general sense of time is that it elapses at a steady, inexorable rate, second after second, each interval the same as the last. Let enough seconds elapse and we get a minute, enough minutes and we get hours, days, years, and then it's over. Paradoxically, you run out of time even as time continues its journey without you. No one can say, "Backward, turn backward, O Time, in your flight" (Hobart Brown), which may be one of the reasons why Time Travel is such a popular theme in Science Fiction, why many people would rather have a Time Machine than a Space Ship...well, I suppose you could get the TARDIS and have the best of both worlds.</div>
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My first introduction to the theme was the same as everyone else's: <i>The Time Machine</i> by H.G. Wells. I read it while in elementary school, probably not long after the 1960 George Pal film, still the best lensing of the book despite its many flaws.</div>
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The book affected me differently than did the film. For the film it was a matter of the monstrous Morlocks and the sheeply Eloi. I still recall vividly the menace of the Morlocks within the Winged Sphinx and the despair when the Time Traveler picked up a book in the Eloi library and it turned to dust. I think I found the Eloi more terrifying than the Morlocks. In the book, I was deeply affected by the vision of the far future, the Earth given over to Giant Crabs and darkness. Though Wells did not realize it at the time, he was envisioning what cosmologists now term the entropic death of the universe.</div>
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I returned to that far future when I wrote the Sherlock Holmes pastiche <i>The Coils of Time.</i> The book was written at the urging of Gary Lovisi at Gryphon Publications. When Hurricane Sandy put it out of print, I republished it in <i>Sherlock Holmes: The Coils of Time & Other Stories.</i> I also revisited the Time Traveler himself in a poem:</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>The Time Traveller</b></span></div>
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Traveler without a name,</div>
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Voyager on the river of Time,</div>
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Where do you find yourself now?</div>
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Do you stand by Pharaoh’s hand,</div>
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Or do saurians pursue you</div>
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Across a Jurassic land?</div>
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Are you lost, wandering aimlessly</div>
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Through the streets of ancient Rome?</div>
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You designed a fine machine,</div>
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Crafted from silver and brass,</div>
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Crystal cut precise and hand-blown glass---</div>
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So what went wrong?</div>
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Were you arrested, executed;</div>
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Did you catch the plague?</div>
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Did you return to face the Sphinx</div>
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In that savage land of gentle sheep?</div>
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We’re still waiting to hear your second tale,</div>
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Perhaps even stranger than the first;</div>
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We’ll always be waiting for you to pierce time’s veil,</div>
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To satisfy our mind’s chronic thirst;</div>
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For now we’re ready to learn,</div>
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We who forever await your belated return.</div>
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I recently included the above poem in a collection entitled <i>Midnight for </i><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><i>Schrödinger's Cat & Other Poems.</i> In the collection, I not only wax eloquent about the mysteries of time and space, but quantum physics, horses, helium seas, alternate history, and a certain bad Friday in Jerusalem. Most are short, only a page or three, as is the nature of verse, but the titular poem is quite long, about fourteen pages.</span></div>
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Some of the poems appeared in my previous limited print editions, <i>A Darkness on my Mind</i> and <i>The Horses of Byzantium & Other Poems</i>. A few were previously printed in small/micro press journals, but the majority have never before been published, though they cover a period of more than thirty years. Even so, they don't comprise the entirety of my poetical flummery.</div>
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For those who patronize Amazon, click <a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07SJR4X3K" target="_blank">here</a> to buy it in either print or digital formats. For those who say, "Anywhere but Amazon," you can click <a href="https://books2read.com/u/3LK6ED" target="_blank">here </a>to buy an e-book at anywhere but Amazon. Or use one of the buttons below.</div>
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Amazon:</div>
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However you get it, if you're moved to do so, I appreciate your support. As mentioned above, this eruption of verse does not exhaust my coffers, nor have I stopped writing poems in spare moments. When Holly takes me out on the patio for hours at a time and forces me to endlessly throw one of her balls for her to fetch (actually, she just drops it within reach -- I suspect that dog will never learn how to share), it does no good to get involved with reading or writing of any duration. So, there will eventually be yet another gathering of enigmatic verse. However, breathe easy. Do not panic. The world will be spared another collection this year, maybe the next as well. But I already have a cover...</div>
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Just a "friendly" warning...</div>
Ralph E. Vaughanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06326668196800976578noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692638741373905099.post-4862937458432804132019-01-14T11:42:00.000-08:002019-01-14T11:46:34.329-08:00Not the Last Man Standing, But Close<div style="text-align: justify;">
The past is always better than the present, though when I was younger I thought the future would be better than the then-present. Then the future became the present, the present wasn't how we had envisioned the future (<a href="https://bookscribbles.blogspot.com/2017/10/looking-back-on-lords-of-starship.html" target="_blank">as I've written here earlier</a>), and suddenly the past looked better than I remembered it being. I suppose that's why all the Golden Ages of anything (Novels, Short Stories, Magazines, Television, Hollywood, Comic Books, etc) are always in the past. Hesiod wrote that the Golden Age of Man, when Saturn (Kronos) ruled the Earth was a time of giants and perfect men and women, than when Saturn departed people became smaller, less perfect and heir to all the ills that plague us now.</div>
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I don't know if Hesiod was right or not. Maybe his Golden Age was more metaphorical than real, though there are some who claim Earth was once a satellite of the Ringed Planet, but got knocked into its present place in the Solar System when a rogue star turned the planets into snooker balls. I do know that "golden ages" are real in art, literature and personal life. I know of people who publish poetry in hopes that they will be recognized as the new Tennyson or Lord Byron; unfortunately, that ship sailed about a century ago, hit an iceberg with Frost and sank with the death of Angelou. There are now more people who write poetry than read it.</div>
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Comic books, too, aren't what they used to be. What was once exciting and vibrant, friendly and a pleasure to read, are now dismal, pessimistic, revisionist and about as uplifting as newspaper headlines. And most aren't even made in the USA anymore. The Golden Age of Television was in the Fifties and early Sixties, but when you actually see the old shows on DVD or Streaming, you have to wonder if maybe that Golden Age wasn't even as real as Hesiod's.</div>
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Which brings me to my own Golden Age. I started writing back in the Sixties, then with great earnest the following decade. The Eighties saw me get a foot in the door with magazines and publishers, and I made steady gains after that. I'm not famous, and I'm certainly not rich, but I can look back on a writing career that was as satisfying as it was frustrating, always battling with editors and occasionally finding a home for a story or a book. And I'm still at it, even though the small press has virtually vanished, no one wants submissions sent though the USPS, and most publications in this New Digital World are as ephemeral as a jarful of electrons. The amalgamation of publishers into a handful, the demise of all but one national bookselling chain (B&N is ever on the verge), and the rise of indie publishing as the new norm has changed everything, but that's not why my Golden Age is in the past.</div>
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It's people. It's writers and artists I've know, worked with and for, read, and sometimes even published in my own small press publications. Over the years, I've known hundreds to varying degrees. Some personally as friends and collaborators, others as correspondents, and more simply because I enjoyed their work and wrote to them. Where are they now? Gone, unfortunately; some are dead, but most simply moved on to something else, giving up the Grand Chase for fame and fortune.</div>
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So, out of the hundreds, who remains besides me? It's a small group. I can count them on one hand and have three fingers left over -- David Barker and Wilum Hopfrog Pugmire. All three of us are Lovecraft enthusiasts, but they have stayed closer to that essence than I have. I have to admire them, not just because they have stayed the course over the decades, but because they still have the fire that a writer must have. And they still write Lovecraftian tales. Recently they collaborated on a book entitled <i>Witches in Dreamland</i>, a novel set in Lovecraft's Dreamlands.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8DI4BaQc0z2RfT28QoFUSyjcKmWJord8IowDv5sdlB7aS0iGNqhAfhmM07WSNu9x5fdmY9hUoEbMSF0GtAH2S6MAzWNhCNWaM3oT77p02Y69kFoHktXe1Mga8bnGv3L_h18oNUU2qUGdT/s1600/b2ap3_thumbnail_witchesindreamland.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="250" data-original-width="166" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8DI4BaQc0z2RfT28QoFUSyjcKmWJord8IowDv5sdlB7aS0iGNqhAfhmM07WSNu9x5fdmY9hUoEbMSF0GtAH2S6MAzWNhCNWaM3oT77p02Y69kFoHktXe1Mga8bnGv3L_h18oNUU2qUGdT/s320/b2ap3_thumbnail_witchesindreamland.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://simon%20gregory%20williams%2C%20known%20as%20“the%20beast”%20in%20sesqua%20valley%2C%20has%20been%20so%20corrupted%20by%20his%20reading%20and%20memorizing%20every%20existing%20edition%20of%20the%20necronomicon%20that%20his%20tainted%20psyche%20cannot%20enter%20into%20randolph%20carter’s%20dreamland.%20however%2C%20there%20is%20another%20dreamland%2C%20“the%20dreamland%20of%20witches%2C”%20into%20which%20simon%20can%20slink%20because%20of%20his%20brilliance%20as%20an%20alchemist%3B%20and%20it%20is%20into%20that%20dreamland%20that%20simon%20accompanies%20an%20innocent%20young%20woman%20in%20her%20quest%20for%20rare%20magick.%20yet%20even%20simon%2C%20who%20is%20so%20experienced%20in%20eldritch%20lore%2C%20has%20never%20been%20so%20confronted%20by%20such%20outlandish%20lovecraftian%20lunacy%20as%20he%20finds%20in%20this%20dreamland%20of%20witchery.%20%20%20%20%20in%20this%20fascinating%20excursion%20into%20the%20lovecraftian%20fantasy/horror%20realm%20of%20Dreamland,%20two%20veteran%20authors%20of%20weird%20fiction%20have%20written%20a%20novel%20that%20is%20by%20turns%20horrific%20and%20poignant,%20with%20vibrant%20characters%20and%20a%20compelling%20narrative%20that%20carries%20the%20reader%20on%20from%20scene%20to%20scene%20to%20the%20novel%E2%80%99s%20cataclysmic%20conclusion." target="_blank">Witches in Dreamland</a></td></tr>
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It's a magnificent book, well written and well plotted, beautifully produced by small press publisher <a href="https://www.hippocampuspress.com/mythos-and-other-authors/fiction/witches-in-dreamland" target="_blank">Hippocampus Press</a>. In addition to Lovecraft's universe, it also incorporates Willum's Sesqua Valley, in which he has set several stories, including one which I published and illustrated many years ago. Here's the pitch for the book:</div>
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<i>"Simon Gregory Williams, known as 'the beast' in Sesqua Valley, has been so corrupted by his reading and memorizing every existing edition of the Necronomicon that his tainted psyche cannot enter into Randolph Carter’s Dreamland. However, there is another dreamland, “the dreamland of witches,” into which Simon can slink because of his brilliance as an alchemist; and it is into that dreamland that Simon accompanies an innocent young woman in her quest for rare magick. Yet even Simon, who is so experienced in eldritch lore, has never been so confronted by such outlandish Lovecraftian lunacy as he finds in this dreamland of witchery.</i></div>
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<i>"In this fascinating excursion into the Lovecraftian fantasy/horror realm of Dreamland, two veteran authors of weird fiction have written a novel that is by turns horrific and poignant, with vibrant characters and a compelling narrative that carries the reader on from scene to scene to the novel’s cataclysmic conclusion."</i></div>
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I started on a grey note, which darkened as I wrote, but I hope ending on this high note, the publication of a new novel by two friends who deserve your attention and support, keeps this missive from being entirely a downer for you. For me, it's raining outside, the day is murky, and the house is too quiet. But, at some point in the future, if I live long enough, even this will seem part of some Golden Age...of what, I don't know, but something. </div>
Ralph E. Vaughanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06326668196800976578noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692638741373905099.post-78592000833229908802018-10-18T11:42:00.000-07:002018-10-18T11:42:03.430-07:00Worlds of Maybe<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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In <i>Worlds of Maybe</i>, a 1970 anthology edited by Robert Silverberg, seven authors explore the idea of worlds where history took a different path than it did in our own world. "The writer makes his one, basic history-changing assumption; then he plunges his characters into a world that never was, and investigates all the imaginable consequences of that world's divergence from the 'real' time-line," Silverberg writes in his introduction. "The result, if the work is done intelligently and perceptively, is an excursion into speculative history, stimulating and strange."</div>
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The results in this book are outstanding, but how could they be otherwise with such writers as Larry Niven, Isaac Asimov and Poul Anderson? It remains one of my favorite anthologies, and not just because of the theme. The oldest story in the book, Murray Leinster's "Sidewise in Time," is from 1934. While not the first alternate history story ever written -- that honor probably belongs to <i>Ab Urbe Condita Libri</i> by the Roman historian Livy, published in the First Century BC, in which Alexander the Great lives long enough to conquer Europe -- but it is the modern progenitor of the Alternate History sub-genre of Science Fiction, though it probably owes more than a nod to British historian Sir John Squire's 1931 book, <i>If It Had Happened Otherwise</i>, an anthology of essays from leading historians about the turning points of history. Since none of Sir John's contributors was an experienced fiction writer, the results are mostly interesting, but dry as yesterday's cracker and totally lacking in humor.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMEspd-m-vs5kXH5Zn6o7rR8EZrplxNccQbWhnhcXLqTdf7mZTRl5zdt2mdsFJNOXs351xMZlJAYKGrBT4imRVcF0t2j1rcSwdzi0Ruvnz4PJsKwroc5rHeX56bH2N-3tu5S6P38_RCSYF/s1600/FSFNOV1952.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="427" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMEspd-m-vs5kXH5Zn6o7rR8EZrplxNccQbWhnhcXLqTdf7mZTRl5zdt2mdsFJNOXs351xMZlJAYKGrBT4imRVcF0t2j1rcSwdzi0Ruvnz4PJsKwroc5rHeX56bH2N-3tu5S6P38_RCSYF/s200/FSFNOV1952.jpg" width="141" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt2B0XY8DeH7Ls-870M55Vr3_TlabnjD9yFkVjr4Y9ICjdspwgRvxWcivElfmTmwrzYNU3DcaLwcVD5j43IjyBT1TGF0OFCUZLIhlPAiDIgP07C_rMy0E0nd_ndAXE8DfBllsp2zwU1gdr/s1600/bring+jubilee.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="371" data-original-width="220" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt2B0XY8DeH7Ls-870M55Vr3_TlabnjD9yFkVjr4Y9ICjdspwgRvxWcivElfmTmwrzYNU3DcaLwcVD5j43IjyBT1TGF0OFCUZLIhlPAiDIgP07C_rMy0E0nd_ndAXE8DfBllsp2zwU1gdr/s200/bring+jubilee.PNG" width="118" /></a>Another of my favorite Alternate History stories is <i>Bring the Jubilee</i> by Ward Moore, which I first encountered in an old edition of <i>The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction</i>, then later tracked down the paperback edition which expands upon the original story and brings in more characterization. It's a tale about what happened when the South won the Civil War, and yet it isn't. It uses a technique I call double-blind, in which it starts out in an alternate time-line where the Confederacy is an ascendant victor and the U.S. a backwater rump state, then introduces a variation via time travel, ending that time-line and starting history on a path that results in a world very much like our own, yet not quite. So, two separate worlds, neither our own, and yet exactly our own, since it is the very nature of Alternate History stories that no matter how odd the time-line is, it is always our world that is under scrutiny, just as Aliens in SF tales are never aliens, but merely different aspects of ourselves.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxy1NMP077g4Wm6mqKAlD3ASFXGEVF5vUnjJn2KwT1Wsl270V3IY-fjwD0vBxy0h-K7y1TSmhy31GKUlF6BE-xCXtynMGmhdiv2_HD8ROac74C3Wxq9oSEysHCSeN2tcwcgWhuUhiSLyOd/s1600/iron+dream01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="499" data-original-width="333" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxy1NMP077g4Wm6mqKAlD3ASFXGEVF5vUnjJn2KwT1Wsl270V3IY-fjwD0vBxy0h-K7y1TSmhy31GKUlF6BE-xCXtynMGmhdiv2_HD8ROac74C3Wxq9oSEysHCSeN2tcwcgWhuUhiSLyOd/s200/iron+dream01.jpg" width="133" /></a></div>
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An attempt to actually bring us an artifact from an alternate world was made by Norman Spinrad in <i>The Iron Dream </i>(1972), which, actually, is not the title of the book he wants us to read. The book presented for our reading "enjoyment" is <i>Lord of the Swastika</i> (1952), written by a science fiction fan and artist named Adolph Hitler, who emigrated from Germany in 1919 and became involved with First Fandom as an illustrator for the pulp magazines of the time. Spinrad's presentation of Hitler's pulse-pounding pulp story of a post-apocalyptic Earth is paired with a scholarly dissertation written by NYU Professor Homer Whipple in 1959, in which he examines the influence of the Hugo-winning novel on fandom, as well as taking a look at Hitler's other science fiction novels -- <i>The Master Race</i>, <i>The Thousand Year Rule</i>, and <i>The Triumph of the Will,</i> all titles that will resonate in much different ways for readers in this time-line than they will in Whipple's, but that is as intended. The same is true of the novel itself, as we will see much darker themes than did Hitler's readers, to whom it is nothing more than an exciting story, worthy of receiving that year's Hugo award. The book is a curiosity, nothing more, because the story itself becomes tedious after awhile. The most interesting portion of Spinrad's book is the dry and pedantic essay by Whipple, where we have tantalizing glimpses and suggestions of a strange new world, teases which remain unfulfilled.</div>
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Despite the popularity of the Alternate History theme with SF fans, it remained obscure among non-fans. Possibly it was too esoteric or demanded too much thinking. The general public got a big dose of it with the television series <i>Sliders</i>, a show that started well, then swiftly deteriorated. The various iterations of <i>Star Trek</i> dipped a toe into the waters of Change with "Mirror Universe" in <i>Star Trek: The Original Series</i> (also in <i>DS9</i> and<i> Enterprise</i>); then a cannonball into the swimming pool of Change with a reboot of the franchise, a move that pandered to younger fans but has not yet produced any decent films. Literary critics took notice of the genre and Science Fiction in general with Philip K. Dick's 1962 <i>The Man in the High Castle </i>("This book is too good to be science fiction," the critics said), but did not make it to the masses till Amazon's take on it began streaming into homes in 2015. The book was great; the adaptation of it, not so much.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ2xM66cdFLmvZGnlRIMPKOomujs7taQcSQV8MsOiw69aS9KJhpe3cZ2TL1ogKnwUg-wMj31gtlxdFCKVwOf1pXiybDKahmDawN5JTpZ3vNpphp96XAwrKcnV4LWZKqHDCxIXKcR8J3_Lk/s1600/highcastle.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="340" data-original-width="220" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ2xM66cdFLmvZGnlRIMPKOomujs7taQcSQV8MsOiw69aS9KJhpe3cZ2TL1ogKnwUg-wMj31gtlxdFCKVwOf1pXiybDKahmDawN5JTpZ3vNpphp96XAwrKcnV4LWZKqHDCxIXKcR8J3_Lk/s320/highcastle.png" width="207" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Notice, the absence of the words "Science Fiction" <br />from the hardcover edition of Dick's novel.<br />An appeal to Literary Critics?</td></tr>
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Ralph E. Vaughanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06326668196800976578noreply@blogger.com1