I adore Doctor Who;  I have been watching since 1976 [my eldest brother used to hide behind the sofa – WUSS].  Tom Baker was definitely my favourite Doctor, but I found Doctor # 7 played by Sebastian McCoy and his companion Ace [Sophie Aldred] really engaging.  They were in the very last three-episode story-arc of Doctor Who called “Survival” in 1989, before the BBC finally pulled the plug after 25 years.

The return of Doctor Who in 2005 was wonderful, and the series so far have been consistently good and living up to the iconic nature of the show.  Of course there have been grumbles about things “not being like they used to be” but generally I find the show works better in its 45 minute format [as opposed to 25 minute episodes] and general improvements in special effects, costuming etc.  The aliens are still basically men in rubber or metal suits though, just as in 1976;  there’s something very comforting about that.

I wasn’t sure I would like the Eleventh Doctor [Matt Smith], in fact I was decidedly against the idea of using such a young actor – over 10 years younger than David Tennant*.  However thanks to the ABC I’ve been able to get to know and like this young, cheeky boy; he’s definitely growing on me.   The first episode’s minor “glitches” could mostly be put down to a) canonical issues with the Doctor’s personality et al arising from his latest regeneration; and / or b) growing pains.

* I hold a beautiful pure love for David Tennant, DESPITE the fact that the actor only goes out with 23 year old blonde beauties who work on whichever show he is currently working on – I think there were about five girlfriends during his time as Doctor Who, most if not all from the production department et al.

Ah, fiddlesticks!  Who am I kidding?  OF COURSE I was in love with David Tennant, and adored the last episode of Series 4, “Journey’s End”, where Doctor 10.5 and Rose finally got to smooch – and what a smooch it was!  If you haven’t seen the outtakes on YouTube you must check them out – David Tennant is much more physical than in the takes used for the episode, lots of grabbing and holding on for another go!  Lucky Billy Piper – although she looks a bit surprised by it at some points a la “Oo-er I wasn’t expecting that”.  

I’m still a wee bit sad that while Rose and the Doctor loved each other mutually, and Rose had her own mostly-human Doctor 10.5 to live out her life with, she and the “real” Doctor didn’t get to say a proper goodbye.  Very poignant.  The final “Special” two-parter “The End Of Time”, farewelling David Tennant as the Tenth Doctor, was pure brilliance and wonderful entertainment.  Again, exceedingly poignant as well as heart-poundingly exciting.

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By “glitches” in Doctor # 11, I mean his manic behaviour being just a little OTT, even for a post-regenerative Doctor; not quite fitting into his skin, not quite settled into the iconic character.  It’s got to be a damn difficult gig, let’s face it, fitting into all those pairs of shoes and giving it your own spin.

The sightly manic part of his personality however is settling in with a deeper intensity.  He is always studying his environment / enemies and refuses to be deviated.  The way he thinks back to things observed, said, and brings puzzles together in manic rants is fun and fascinating to follow – it’s also great dialogue work from Matt Smith [“But Doctor, you’re not making sense!”  “Yes I am making sense;  you’re just not keeping up.”].  The cheeky young boy is all there, it’s absolutely charming.  He is so child-like in his enthusiasms, brimful of excitement and pleasure in the variety of life and beings he meets.

So yes, I do really like the younger Doc after all, so different from the professor-ish types in the past, with masses of energy yet he manages to bring off the young-looking but temporally-ancient [907 years old apparently] dichotomy with élan.

The new opening theme and graphics are effective, with just the time-tunnel effect and the new Doctor Who logo with the DW separating Doctor- and -Who styled to resemble the TARDIS.  And yay, still no face fading in and out – it’s the one thing I really didn’t fancy in all my years of Doctor Who watching.

Next up: the new Companion, the bubbly somewhat ditzy Amelia “Amy” Pond – now avec fiancé, the gormless Rory who makes Ron from Harry Potter look fascinating.  I found her annoying at first, then she began to grow on me; and now I am finding her increasingly irritating with her constant bounding around like a female Tigger [with less brain and charm] and squeeeee-ing over everything.  And then getting pissed off at the Doctor when she gets herself in trouble.

I’m pretty sure Amy Pond’s unbelievably long legs helped her get the part – and help to keep the dads interested – her figure is totally unremarkable except for THOSE LEGS.  Oh and the eye lashes; either that or the make up department is incredibly good at falsies / lash extensions].

I like the plot arc that’s emerging, however, about the cracks in reality and worlds, the falling silence, and why Amy and the people on “her” Earth have no recollection at all of the previous invasions of Daleks, Cybermen et al.  I hope such story arcs continue throughout the series.  Like Buffy et al, it’s always more fun when there’s a general series-wide story arc, as well as the MOTW [Monster Of The Week] format.

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OH and it’s quite obvious there’s a Terry Pratchett fan on the writing team, which fills me with glee.  Firstly in “The Beast Below” [Episode 2] we have a star-whale [a shout out to the Discworld’s Great A’Tuin, the star-turtle anybody?].  In “Victory Of The Daleks” [Episode 3] Professor Bracewell recalls an unrequited love for a girl called Dorabella back in his old village.  In Pratchett’s Going Postal and Making Money, main character and con-man’s Moist Von Lipwig’s love interest / fiancée is called Adorabelle Dearheart.  Merely coincidence?  I am sure such examples – and I hope there’ll be more – are major shout-outs to an immensely talented fantasy writer who has done so much for the genre. [Although I view Pratchett’s writing as “true literature”; like Lord Of the Rings; they’re not just your average swords and dragons epics.]

I am bed-ridden for so much of the time, for days / weeks / months, and those two kitties are constantly entertaining, affectionate and perceptive.  When I’m especially bad, they will snuggle up on the bed as close as possible to me, one on each side, with a head snuggled into my shoulder here, or paws wrapped around my wrist there . . . aaaaaawwwww.

I’ve had several cats over the years:-  My first cat Rocky was a splodgy black and white mog who had no interest in humans and snuggling whatsoever.  Cat Numero Due was Bella, a dumped, abused stray who turned up on our doorstep and yowled to come in, please.  She was not at all averse to cuddles or snuggles and returned affection with fervour.  I really could have done without the disembowelled rats left for me on my duvet cover as a precious gift, though.  Bella lived to the amazing age of 22, and died quietly in her sleep just a few weeks after we returned to WA from Ireland.  I’m forever glad I had the chance to snuggle those last times and say goodbye.

Cat Number Three was Jessie, our psycho-feral tuxedo kitten we adopted whilst in Belfast.  We did a pretty amazing job of de-feralising her, and she turned into a very happy affectionate and friendly cat.  When we left Belfast I simply couldn’t bear the thought of her spending six months in quarantine, and what that would do to her psyche and abandonment issues.  I contacted the shelter we had adopted her from in the first place, hoping they could help.  A volunteer came out to visit, and couldn’t believe the change in her; Jessie sniffed around this new person for a bit then jumped onto her lap, kneaded a little then curled up for a nap.  Quite a change from the earlier spitting scratching screaming monster from hell, yep.  They found a home for Jessie on a farm in the Co. Antrim Mountains [where there have since been reports of a black panther roaming the hills and eating sheep.  Sounds like Jessie is enjoying her new life juuuuust fine.]

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I adopted a kitten shortly after we were settled back in WA.  I simply couldn’t cope without a pussycat around the house.  Again to the shelter – where naturally I wanted to adopt them all.  I peered at a pile of tabby kittens and was intrigued by one weeny female who was persistently making her way under / over / through all the bigger bruiser boys to get to the front of the pen where she stood up on her hind legs and mrrrreeeeeep-ed at me.  I figured she chose me, so that was that.

That was Abigail.  As soon as I picked her up she climbed up onto my shoulder, started trilling, kneading my boobs and sucking my hair. The shelter volunteer was astonished at her behaviour as that kitten had a reputation as being timid and shy – HA!  It was all a cunning plan until she saw just the right kind of sucker heh-heh-heh.  She grew into a lovely cat, absolutely huge [all muscle and bone, no excess fat], incredibly fluffy with the softest coat I’d ever encountered, like a baby rabbit’s.

She was a silvery-brown tabby with defined dark stripes, white feet and chest, and a creamy-apricot belly.  Her back legs had such heavy and long fur she looked as though she was wearing old-fashioned pantaloons;  her ruff was more like a mane and almost covered her front feet when she sat up straight on her haunches.  When she lay down in “loaf of bread” pose with all paws tucked under, she looked like Dougal from The Magic Roundabout, an ever-expanding puddle of fur. 

She had the most beautiful nature – sweet and kind, almost aggressively affectionate,  especially kneading my boobs with claws out ow ow ow ow owwwwww, and suckling at the fabric covering aforementioned boobs.  For a cat she was amazingly faithful and doglike, following me around the house and curling up on the desk / chair / piles of laundry of whatever room I was working in. She loved water and not only curled up in the bathroom basin under the dripping tap [fucking slum landlords], but often hopped into the shower stall with me – while the shower was still on.

On days when I was in a lot of pain, bed-ridden and generally having a tough time she would cuddle up close on the bed, and purr and nuzzle and knead pretty much all day.  She wouldn’t leave me even if food was offered.  Talk about providing the most outstandingly beautiful special comfort.  

I still choke up and have fat tears roll down my face when I think about her; we lost her when she was just three and a half years old, to a fatal genetic heart condition.   She was so very special and the best little mate a person could have.

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When Abigail died I was in such a dilemma.  I didn’t want another cat straight away as I was still in mourning;  I was desolate and bawled non-stop for weeks.  It didn’t help that I kept thinking I saw a whisk of her tail out of the corner of my eye, or heard the jingle of the bells on her collar [she wore three, as she was so sneaky and also an exceptional huntress].  On the other hand I was desperately lonely for that special company and comfort in my bad days.

I had started doing some detective work several months before Abi died.  I figured out very early on in her life with us that given her appearance, personality traits and other characteristics she was definitely a Maine Coon, or at least a cross.  [Further under-cover investigation after her death revealed she’d been dumped by a despicable Backyard Breeder, as being “surplus to requirements”.]

I wanted a Maine Coon because they met my personal needs for a companion animal.  They are affectionate, loving, companionable,  perceptive, have a wicked sense of humour and above-average intelligence, and are as loyal and people-oriented as dogs.  Their physical appearance is something else to love;  they are big, hardy beasties – one of the largest breeds of domestic cat – with big strong bones, deep chest, lovely rounded head and square-ish muzzle [no squished faces in this house!], big tufty ears, fluffy snowshoe paws, an almost leonine ruff, and that enormous plume of a tail.

Aoife [an Irish Gaelic name, pronounced Ee-fah or Ee-vay] was born on 28 September 2006, and she came to us by plane journey at the age of 14 weeks, just a couple of days before Christmas.  From the first moment at the airport pick-up point – when I saw her wee face peeking out through her crate door I couldn’t help but cry out “Oh My Little Baby!” and received a meeep in return – she fit into our little family and immediately took over.  She has always been incredibly affectionate, easy-going and cuddly, with a huge purr.  She’s playful and has that Maine Coon-ish wicked sense of humour;  she even plays Tux and I off against each other for her attentions.

Her colouring is officially “silver patched torbie and white”; basically a patchy silver-grey, apricot and black tortoiseshell with tabby stripes, and her lower face, chest and tummy are white.  The silver gene in her coat colour gives her fur – even the plain white – a glittering shimmering appearance.  The eyes are a golden green, with that black kohl-lined “look”;   very Cleopatra.

She’s also very vocal and “chatty”, always commenting on this or that and being most imperious in her demands.  This is cause for much amusement as her voice is as tiny and squeaky now [at a hefty muscular 7 kg and still-growing] as when she was a wee babe.  It’s mostly soft trills and squeaks, a kind of mrrreeh! or mrrrah!, but she makes up for it by trilling and mrrreeh!-ing  a lot, and in a most conversational comment / response kind of way.

Our Aoife is definitely worth the research I put into finding an excellent and reputable breeder, regardless of the slight inconvenience of that breeder being on the other side of the country; then to be placed onto a waiting list [amidst much begging on my part, I have no shame!]; and waiting for that precious litter to be born. 

Several months after Aoife came to live with us,  her baby brother – a full brother, having the same mum and dad but from the next litter – joined us too.  Ruadhàn [another Irish Gaelic name, pronounced Roo-ahn] is now a huge silver-red tabby.  He and Aoife share the same affectionate and dog-like disposition – as well as the massive paws and ridiculous bottle-brush tail – but the boy is much more the sooky-baba of the pair.

Two Maine Coons are definitely quadruple the fun, delightful affection and companionship of one [and um, well ... it has to be said, but quadruple the fluff as well ... thank miscellaneous techno-pagan gods for the purple-and-green Dyson hoover].

And the four of us – Tuxedo, Aoife, and Ruadhàn and I – make sizeable donations to the Cat Shelter to help all those kitties who are the product of unprincipled money-grubbing pet shops, bastard Backyard Breeders, and stupid fucking morons who DON’T GET THEIR CATS SPAYED.

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Our animals – cats, dogs, horses, bunnies, whatever – are so important to us;  they become true members of our family.  They are companions and comfort and consolation for those of us going through tough times, and help pull us through health shite of all kinds.  As I’ve said, I couldn’t cope without my pusscats.  They help me so much, providing me with that physical comfort and emotional bond.

Needless to say I’m a huge supporter of the role of Pet Therapy in children’s emotional and health care, homes for the elderly [I’m sneaking my kitties in when it’s my time, no matter what, bugger ‘em], and hospitals.

But there it is; we become so close to our “babies” because they are there for us throughout our health shite and other crises and they don’t give a damn what we look like or how physically inadequate we might feel.  They love us unconditionally and are there for us, as we love them and give them the best care possible, forever, for  always.

It’s no wonder we are heartbroken and devastated beyond words when they die, suddenly or after illness, nor why we want to commit violent GBH  [and ought to be legally allowed to] on anyone who says “but it was just a CAT / DOG / WHATEVER”.

Please have a bit of browse.  You know, if you feel so inclined.  There might be something there to pique your interest.

Here’s what I have saved up for and bought with great excitement so far.

There were a couple of collections in January but I was only caught by Love Lace.  I managed to hold back and picked up only two eye shadows;  Hypnotizing, a sort of frosty grey-mauve and the eponymous Love Lace, a heavenly smooth mid greyed-out blue in my favourite MAC eye shadow formula Veluxe Pearl, which is pretty much what it says on the label, luxe and pearly.  While I was shopping online [MACCosmetics.com.au] I got two eye shadows from the permanent collection – in Electra, an icy silver-grey, and  Knight Divine, a smooth dark grey with silver pearl.  All four of these shades lend themselves really well to a variety of smoky blue-grey eye looks, both subtle daytime and more intense dramatic night time combos.

I also ordered two new make up brushes:  # 228 Mini Eye Shader Brush [which is only available for purchase online],  and # 275 Medium Angled Shading Brush.  Both are outstanding brushes, fantastic quality as you’d expect from MAC and such a pleasure to use; they are really diverse in their uses too, talk about added value hey.  They definitely make my “Essential Make Up Brushes” list [See? yet another list].

In February MAC introduced Pop Colour 2010, being several new additions to the permanent eye shadow line.  Warning:  No neutrals here folks!  There are eight intensely colourful shades in all, my buys being Lucky Green, a frosted mid-tone lime and Atlantic Blue, a really bright violet blue.

After months and months of it being on my “priority” list I finally got Gorgeous Gold eye shadow from the permanent line, a soft true yellow-gold with a surprising green flash that makes it an awesome shade to work in with green and blue eye shadow looks, as well as the traditional bronze or neutral combinations.

Fortunately I’d budgeted wisely and so bought a new lipstick as well [be still my beating heart!];  On Hold, a yellow raspberry red in the Crème Sheen formula.  For some reason it makes my green-yellow eyes almost glow.  Freaky.  This was my first lipstick in the Crème Sheen formula and it will not be my last.  I’ve always stuck to the Lustre finish lipsticks, but Crème Sheens are divine, very luxe and moisturising, with a lush creamy sheeny look and feel.

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March saw a bunch of collections.  The only one I was interested in was the From Our Lips / Viva Glam, a new Viva Glam release with two lipsticks this time, Viva Glam Cyndi and Viva Glam Gaga [Cyndi Lauper and Lady Gaga being the new spokespersons].  The Viva Glam Fund began in 1997 with the release of a red Viva Glam lipstick, the entire proceeds of every sale going to AIDS support and research programmes around the world. 

There have been five additional lippies released since then, and two lip glosses, plus the two new 2010 releases.  All the shades are incredibly wearable and almost universally flattering, so most MAC fans would have at least one – if not all – VG lip products in their make up bags.  I have VG VI lipstick and VG VI lipglass, and now the new VG Cyndi, a flattering coral-red; VG Gaga is a gorgeous pale blue-pink.

The huge, humongous collection in March was the Spring Colour Forecast, a four-part collection, based around four colour groups [pinks, corals, violet, bronze].  Despite the range, nothing took my fancy enough to splash out.  Regardless of the hype around limited edition collections, much of the time I’d rather buy more items from the permanent line and build up my personal collection from there [not owning the entire MAC collection . . . yet].

Mid-April [the 12th to be precise] saw the release of Give Me Liberty Of London, a collaboration with the famous London fashion / fabric house Liberty.  I fell head over heels in love with this collection; as well as divine make up goodies it featured beautiful classy packaging; white enamel with a Liberty birds and flowers print based on the William Morris “Strawberry Thief” pattern.  And the products in the packaging were equally heavenly;  yet again I saved up and picked out what I figured were the best bits of the collection [although for the first time ever I wanted to buy the whole lot just for the packaging – how sad can you get?].

• Beauty Powder  =  Shell Pearl,  a really pretty pale peach with golden pearl;  the beauty powders all have a divinely soft shimmery finish, and I’ve been aching to get my paws on this one in particular.  I use it as a highlighter on cheekbones, brow-bone, and temples to get that “inner glow” appearance.
• Eye Shadow =  Bough Grey [Satin], a mid-tone bluish grey;  and Birds & Berries [Veluxe Pearl], frosted  dark green-blue teal.  I’m so in love with this shade it’s probably illegal . . . I mean I always automatically leap upon any green eye shadow going, but this is so beautiful and can be integrated into so many looks.
• Lipstick = Ever Hip [Crème Sheen]:  a light creamy coral.  To be honest I was seriously a-skeeared about getting this lipstick.  I have only just started wearing pink lipsticks so maybe Coral was a bit soon?  As soon as I saw it in all that white enamel and Liberty print glory and tried it on my fears just melted away.  It’s not too orange or bright, it’s soft and natural and being Crème Sheen has that lush creaminess to it.
• Lipglass = Frankly Fresh:  a neutral pinky-beige shade with soft pearl, it goes perfectly over the Ever Hip coral lippie, and will go nicely over any of my pink lipsticks! [um, the total of pink lippies being two (2); as mentioned I’ve only just started experimenting with wearing pink lippies - not even lolly-pink pinks, more on the neutral side, but pink nonetheless].

Art Supplies was released in Australia in late April, and online only.   The collection included a range of new limited edition Greasepaint Sticks [sort of like greasy crayons:  meh], and Long-Wear Lip Stains in the form of Texta-like markers [again with the meh].  There was also a bunch of Pearl Glide Intense Eye Liners which I landed on like a ton of bricks.  The colours were all divine, but I went for  Black Line [a golden black], Undercurrent [blue teal], and Designer Purple [shimmering violet].

I am freaky for eye liners, and the Pearl Glide Eye Liners are delicious.  They are even creamier and with more colour pay-off than the Eye Kohl Liners (my faves), and the glitter / shimmer in them is subtle but unmistakably there.  Undercurrrent is my best-beloved, the most divine, perfect  blue teal – and we all know I can’t get enough of teals!  Designer Purple is a fabulous shade, a dark violet with gold shimmer.  I haven’t had a purple-ish eye liner in my stash until this one because most of them were too dark or looked brown-ish / dirty on me, but this baby makes my green eyes flash like nobody’s business!  Black Line is described by MAC as a “true black” but that’s not quite correct;  it is black, yes, but with deep gold undertones and iridescence, very dramatic.  Perfecto!  I just wish MAC would make these and the Power Kohl Liners (eg, Feline) part of the permanent line *sigh*.  Bastards get us hooked, then craving like crack whores for that next hit, that’s what it is.

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While I don’t have much information on the rest of the year, there are a couple of collections coming out in the next few months that I’m keeping my eye on.

To The Beach Summer Collection = we’re looking at mid-June for the Australian release I think.  Again the packaging is a real feature of this Limited Edition Collection; not quite as gorgeous or spectacular as Give Me Liberty of London perhaps but definitely drool-worthy all the same.  It is very 70s with the green and orange containers [which Generation Zed think are oh-so-cool and “retro”;  it’s not quite the same when you remember your mum and all her friends having kitchens in orange and avocado . . . thankfully there’s no mission brown lurking around any corners].  The main attraction for me is that the containers’ lids are embossed with sea creatures eg, seahorses [w00t!], scallop shells, curly shells, coral etc.

In The Groove = Australian release will probably be around late July.  In The Groove features Mineralize SkinFinishes; Mineralize blush duos; Mineralize eye shadow trios.  Also lipsticks and Crème Sheen Lipglasses but they have not grabbed my eye as much as the Mineralize products.  [I would usually automatically change the Zed in Mineralize to an Ess, as I use Australian English, but the official product is spelled with a Zed and my descriptions must be correct, c’est la vie.]

Fabulous Felines = we’re probably looking at a late August / September release date [US release is 10 August and collections generally hit Australian shores a month or so later].  Fabulous Felines is a three-part collection on – obviously – a cat theme.  Needless to say I CAN’T WAIT.   The three parts are  Palace Pedigreed, Leopard Luxe and Burmese Beauty, and each part includes a mineralize blush, a brand new liquid eye liner in a wide range of shades, lipsticks and lipglasses, and eye shadow quads [oh yeah baby, I’m there].  There are no hints or rumours about packaging as yet, but the possibilities for kitty-themes is driving me wild.  Meeee-OW.

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[In the interests of blogger disclosure, which apparently you have to do now - even on a totally trivial, ranting, “eclectic” ie unorganised, babbling, not read by more than two people site like this - I have not been paid to say any of this;  I have not been sent samples or products by the companies referred to;  all products were purchased and road-tested by me, for me.]

What happened to Tom to send him off the rails and basically treat his friends like shit gradually unfolds and is explained, in much the same way as Taylor’s story in On The Jellicoe Road.

As with Marchetta’s other books, I was totally drawn in and became emotionally involved with the characters and the story.  Personally I think this is Marchetta’s best yet; perhaps because the kids are older, have finished or are finishing uni studies, so naturally their world view has changed and the relationships more complex and their concerns more global than the suburbs of Sydney.

There are three particularly fascinating elements to The Piper’s Son;  Tom’s journey back to the real world and reconnecting with family and friends; the different point of view of the group from Saving Francesca (being Tom’s); and the portrayal of the relationships and connections of Tom’s family, and the tragedy that tore them apart.

Tom is at first a rather unsympathetic character, and if you are familiar with Saving Francesca you will be shocked and saddened at the changes in him, and the fact that he is now separated and disenchanted from that group who seemed to have a deep lasting attachment (Marchetta seems to have a “thing” about teens at high school developing these life-long friendships; it’s something that bugs me but I can manage to get past).  It is revealed that he dumped Tara suddenly, very soon after they’d finally got together, and that he’d also disengaged from the group – and the world – at the same time. 

Tom begins working at the local pub and old hang-out, the Union, owned by Justine’s uncle and where she studies and Francesca works.  He slowly, carefully begins to wind himself back into the web of friendship and relationship with Francesca, Justine, and the others.  He also connects again with Tara Finke, via email and phone, who is now working in East Timor as part of her studies, and rekindles their romance. 

What I found most engaging about The Piper’s Son was the change in Point Of View.  Saving Francesca is of course all from Francesca’s outlook, what she was going through at the time, and how she viewed herself, her new friends and her family.  Tom of course views things completely differently; not just Francesca and her personality and growth, but Justine and also Will (Francesca’s boyfriend).

Francesca is actually revealed as being outgoing, a bit of a show-off, a talented singer and musician but with occasional plunges into depression.  Justine is the most secure and grounded of the group, while in Saving Francesca she seemed the least colourful and interesting.  Will – who Francesca saw / sees as The One and therefore everything about him is amazing – is viewed by Tom as hostile, introverted, emotionally withdrawn and defensive.  Part of this is actually Will’s jealousy of Tom, being Francesca’s friend and having much more in common with her than Will, through their love of music and performing together as a band. 

The third element of The Piper’s Son is Tom’s relationship with his family.  The family has always been exceptionally close, but the horrific death of Tom’s Uncle Joe in the London Underground bombing in 2005 and the ensuing ripple-effect from the tragedy has torn the family apart in various ways.  Tom’s dad, who he has always idolised, has become an alcoholic and disappeared, his mother and younger sister have moved away to Brisbane, and Tom has been left, bereft yet detached from his family by choice, for the past two years. 

Tom comes to live with his pregnant not-quite-single Aunt Georgie (it’s complicated but a lovely portrayal of modern complex relationships!), and as with his friends, he pulls together the ties with his father, mother and grandparents.  They reconnect and come together as a family again, ironically – given that a tragic death had blasted the family apart – through the return of the body of Tom Finch, Tom’s grandfather, who was killed and left behind in the Vietnam War.  It’s a very tangible picture of a very real and mostly lovable family, with all it’s baggage and unsaid words and old wounds.

The one slightly bum note (a good analogy in a book so wrapped around music and its ability to connect people) was the “cute” non-relationship between Justine, and Ben from On The Jellicoe Road.  I know authors like to link minor characters between books, and I would have otherwise enjoyed the nod to On The Jellicoe Road but the way it panned out felt incredibly contrived.

As with On The Jellicoe Road, Marchetta shows not tells what her characters feel, and how they are viewed by others.  For example, Tom’s appearance is never described yet from what is said / unsaid he’s pretty good looking.  Despite his initial branding as a yob he is actually very sensitive, mature, kind, a fantastic big brother to his sister Annabelle who he adores, and much loved by all his family and friends, with an ability – a gift, really – for making people happy and comfortable.

I loved this book, and as I only occasionally do with books I love (eg, The Book Thief), when I finished I went straight back to the beginning and started re-reading.  I adored Tom and his relationships with the girls, Will, and especially with Tara; that felt so real and beautiful and poignant, maybe because I’ve done the Long Distance Thing too!

I am a big fan of Melina Marchetta and her writing.  Her characters are so real and alive, through brilliant characterisation and dialogue.  Her books are in the Young Adult category so are directed at the mid-to-late teen group, but the stories and themes are universal and heart-warming* so Proper Grown Ups can enjoy them too (and have a bit of a nostalgic gleam about their teen years).

*I usually despise the description of any YA or chick-lit as “heart-warming”, it’s tossed around by reviewers in such a generic way, like so many MickDee burgers (and just as nauseating).  However in Marchetta’s case “heart-warming” is so perfect a description I’ll let it go.  In Saving Francesca especially I totally related to the feeling of alienation experienced by Francesca herself, and also her mother’s “nervous breakdown” and deep dark depression.

So, firstly, On The Jellicoe Road     (The Piper’s Son to follow)

On The Jellicoe Road starts off in a very fragmented, almost surreal way;  I started reading it in the bookshop and even being very familiar with Marchetta’s previous writings I wasn’t sure what I’d picked up.  But I continued, and the way all the fragments and pieces come together, with flashbacks and bits of the past, make totally compelling reading.  You just have to know what happens to the characters and the story-line.

Now to the characters:  as I said characterisation and dialogue are what Marchetta does best, she also has an uncanny way of making the few bits of dialogue carry even more meaning.  And the way she gets inside her character’s heads is amazing.  She really does SHOW not TELL (one of my main hates is when authors go on and on telling you what so-and-so is feeling, instead of showing by dialogue, behaviour, whatever).

The principal character of On The Jellicoe Road is Taylor Markham, a 16-year old girl in Year Eleven at a school for wards of the state and juvenile delinquents, set far out in the New South Wales bush.  I really enjoyed her personal journey of finding out her past history, and the breaking down of personal emotional defences.  I did have to ask why she hadn’t found out about her past before, but came to understand through Marchetta’s writing how Taylor had blocked out those memories and hardened her heart (as only a teenager can).

The other main characters, Raffy, Santangelo and of course Jonah Griggs, the hunky romantic interest, are interesting and fun.  Several times throughout the book I had to query these “kids”;  for sixteen year olds they are incredibly adult.  Not just physically / sexually but emotionally; they think, act and interact in a really truly adult way for 16 year olds. 

Maybe Marchetta knows different teens than I did in my time, or is deliberately making the point in On The Jellicoe Road how much more mature teens are “these days”, because there’s no way kids at my high school ever acted, spoke or made such life decisions as the young adults in Jellicoe. 

All in all I loved On The Jellicoe Road, and it definitely stands up to multiple re-readings.  In fact, a re-reading is almost a must, to take in what you missed the first time.  The story and characters draw you in, and Marchetta makes you care for them as much as she did with Josie and Francesca.  Naturally I couldn’t wait to get my hands on The Piper’s Son . . .

I could do an entire post about my hatred for all things Twilight but most of the points are in the Urban Fantasy – Patricia Briggs post.  I did, however, come up with my own nickname for the phenomena.  “Twi-hards” simply doesn’t cut it. 

For the books, the undiluted Year-Nine-level crappiness of the writing within, all the merchandise, and the silly people who roll about in the mediocrity of it all, I came up with “Twi-Shite”, which says it all, really.

I’ve always loved the fantasy genre (oh I like SF too, except for the really heavy-duty military-space-opera stuff) starting with Lord Of The Rings at nine years old, and moving on from there.  It’s true a lot of fantasy is, well, bilge, and poorly-written bilge at that.  The same-old, same-old heroes, stupid names, dragons and swords and beautiful useless heroines.

Some fantasy is pretty damn wonderful though.  Terry Pratchett is one of my absolute favourite authors, over all genres, not merely the SF&F category.  Personally I think his books should be on the same shelves as the posh Booker-Prize-winning Literature, he’s so good; besides he got an OBE for Services To Literature so the Queen (or some lackey) obviously agrees with me!  For an incorrigible bookophile (technically it’s “bibliophile” but I don’t want to bring the so-called Good Book into this), even one who is a compulsive list-maker, such a thing as “Absolute Favourite Authors” is difficult to quantify.

Also on that list you would find Robin McKinley, and a new favourite, Patricia Briggs.  Robin McKinley has written such gems as Beauty (A Re-Telling of Beauty and the Beast), The Blue Sword, The Hero and the Crown, Spindle’s End and the more recent Sunshine and Dragonhaven.  And yes, while they do feature dragons, magic, vampires and swords, McKinley creates amazing worlds, and wonderfully complex, believable characters.  I don’t know how many times I’ve re-read my collection of McKinleys (I have them all) and each time the experience is fresh, beautiful and exciting.

Patricia Briggs is a new discovery, although her first book was published in 1993 (no longer in print, damn), and her best-selling series’ heroine Mercy Thompson made her first appearance in 2006.  The Mercy Thompson series and Briggs’ contributions to various anthologies gave rise to a spin-off, the Alpha & Omega Series.

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The Mercy Thompson series is set in our world, except that werewolves, vampires, fae, witches and ghosties really do exist.  Patricia Briggs has built a totally convincing world where suburban life co-exists with fantastical creatures.  The heroine, Mercedes Athena Thompson (to give her full name) is a VW mechanic, and a “walker”.  The walker, or skin-walker, is based on actual Native American mythology, a magically-inclined person that can take on the shape of any creature by wearing it’s skin. 

Whilst Mercy is magically inclined, she doesn’t require the skin of an animal, or any magic requiring blood and death, to change. She is able to change instantly, at will, into a coyote (ie, not driven by the moon like werewolves).  Her main issues lie in trying to balance her different “selves” and attempting to live a normal life;  all somewhat complicated by the fact that the Alpha of the local werewolf pack lives next door (and wolves hate coyotes in their territory), and she has strong links to the local vamps and fae.

In Mercy’s first outing, Moon Called, she is reluctantly drawn into helping her neighbour Adam – the Alpha werewolf – and hunting down his and his (human) daughter’s kidnappers, and the person who has been experimenting on werewolves.  Mercy had spent the previous six or seven years trying to keep out of the wolves’ way;  it turns out she was brought up by werewolves, left that pack and resolved never to get involved with wolves again.  Now here she is, helping Adam – a possible romantic interest (well, there sure is lots of zingy chemistry there!) and Samuel, a very, very old werewolf who just happens to be her ex-childhood sweetheart.

In Blood Bound, set a couple of months after Moon Called, we are given a closer look at the vampires, of whom we saw a little in the previous book.  Mercy owes a favour to her friend Stefan, a vamp who is a bit of a fan of Scooby-Doo, and once again she is pulled into major trouble and strife.  She is helped by her werewolf and fae friends, knowing that she will have to return the favour at some stage.

Book no. 3 is Iron Kissed, and as Moon Called featured the werewolves as the major players, and Blood Bound revolved around vamps, Iron Kissed gives us more insight into the fae.  The action occurs over about a week or two so it’s all pretty fast-paced and driven.  The fae are powerful magical beings – not pretty sparkly fairies – and not given to friendly actions.  Mercy’s ex-boss, who happens to be one of the fae, asks for her help in investigating deaths within the fae community (using her coyote nose), and is himself  later accused of murder.  Mercy gets more than even she bargained for when she insists on finding out who the real killer is . . .

The previous books were dark, and had their fair share of violence and hardship, but Iron Kissed is even darker;  there are some pretty powerful scenes, violence and gore and rape.  There are plenty of lighter, more humorous moments too which create a good balance.  Briggs is never gratuitous in her depictions of violent acts and sex scenes – quite the opposite, she sets things up and allows the reader to fill in the blanks.  This is a really effective creative writing device but is not easy to follow through unless the tension and suspense are already there;  Briggs is a master at making her readers care deeply for her characters, whether major or minor.  One of the most powerful and touching scenes in the book involves a relatively unsympathetic minor character.   

Bone Crossed starts precisely where Iron Kissed left off, and ties up a lot of loose ends from the previous three in the series; so much so that fans of the series thought it was the last entry – “oh nooooooes!”.  Fortunately for us, Briggs has been signed to write at least three more Mercy Thompson books (no. 5 – Silver Borne – is already released in the US). 

In Bone Crossed Mercy makes headway in recovering from her ordeal in Iron Kissed, is caught up in the vampires’ backlash and revenge from Blood Bound, and finally chooses between the two men / werewolves who have been vying for her attentions.  There is also another plot involving a lone master vampire and ghosts which is pretty damn scary and ick (but awesome).

Briggs has also collaborated with Dabel Brothers Comics in producing a graphic novel.  Called Mercy Thompson:  Homecoming it is a prequel, depicting Mercy’s life before she became involved with the local werewolves and fae, and was trying to live a “normal” life and accept her own identity.

Overall, the series is well-written and fast-paced, the momentum never really slackens and the quiet interludes are as intense and vital to the plot and character development as the action.  Mercy herself does have a resemblance to Buffy, but while not a Capital S Superhero she does have a definite penchant for getting into trouble, solving mysteries / issues, and taking on the Bad Guys with the help of her preternatural friends – ie, werewolves, vamps and fae.

Despite the superhero-ness and toughness, she is still a believable character.  She’s complex, sympathetic, and very real in that she’s not perfect, she makes mistakes, has a complicated love-life.  Basically, she really wants a quiet, normal “human” life but her abilities as a walker and her links to the werewolf, vampire and fae communities make this impossible.

I enjoy the series enormously, and I’ve re-read each one a number of times.  As urban fantasy goes, this is light years ahead of Twilight Twi-shite et al.  What really sets the series apart is Briggs’ talent for world- and culture-building:  the cultures and hierarchy of the werewolf packs is absolutely riveting; Briggs has obviously done a lot of research into “real” wolf behaviour and pack structure, as well as human psychology.   The werewolves themselves, their behaviour and physiology – the Change, their immortality, how all that affects them – are quite different and unique to any weres I’ve encountered in other urban fantasy.

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In the anthology On the Prowl, Briggs used a secondary character who appeared very briefly in a couple of the Mercy Thompson books, and this bounced off into its own successful series:  Alpha & Omega.

First in the series is the novella Alpha & Omega, included in the aforementioned anthology, which introduces the reader to Charles and Anna.  Whereas the Mercy Thompson series tends to the action / mystery genre, A&O is more romantic – but never slushy!  Charles is the second most dominant werewolf in North America, above even Alphas of entire packs.  He is his father’s hit-man and enforcer, as well as his business manager, and these two sides to his character make for an interesting duality.

Anna is a young woman who has been Changed into a werewolf against her will, and has been beaten and abused into submission by the Alpha and others of her pack.  When she reads a newspaper article about the disappearance of a young man, who she saw in one of the safe cages at her Alpha’s house, she calls the Marrock, the Alpha of all Alphas.  The young man is one of the victims of the werewolf experiments in Moon Called, which dovetails nicely into that book, it’s consequences and the Mercy Thompson series.

Briggs has said that she did not intend Alpha & Omega to be a love story; it just grew that way.  Charles is an extremely dominant character and in direct contrast is the beaten, submissive Anna, who despite what she has been through remains a strong and unbroken personality.  The reasons for her treatment, and what she really is, is the centre of the story.  She is an Omega, which in Briggs’ world is a wolf capable of calming and controlling other werewolves, particularly when they are insane or raging out of control, a wolf outside of the pack hierarchy and not under the control of the Alpha*. 

*  In “real life” Omega wolves are the very bottom of the pack, with no special abilities.  They are usually utilised as a kind of uncle and babysitter to pups while the rest of the pack goes hunting.

Charles’ wolf half develops an immediate interest in Anna and her wolf, which is reciprocated.  Again, while Briggs doesn’t go for gratuitous sex scenes (in fact there is only one hug and kiss) the intensity of emotion between Charles and Anna is well-realised and draws the reader into their story and relationship.

Cry Wolf picks up where Alpha & Omega left off (this seems to be one of Briggs’ modus operandi), with Anna moving to Montana with Charles and adjusting to a very different life as a valued member of a new pack, with a mate.  In Briggs’ world, the “mating” of werewolves is the process whereby the wolf and human sides of each werewolf form a bond that can develop its own magic and abilities.

While there is plenty of action in Cry Wolf, with new werewolves, black witches and strange beings, the story revolves around Charles’ and Anna’s developing relationship.  While they are attracted to each other, and their wolf selves have bonded, they are still feeling each other out.  The added complication of Anna’s stress and trauma from the treatment she received in her old pack makes for a highly emotionally charged atmosphere. 

Book Numero Due, Hunting Ground, continues the story of Charles and Anna, their relationship and the deepening of their bond.  In Cry Wolf there wasn’t much talk between Charles and Anna – Charles being a reticent character anyway, and freaked out by his lack of control around Anna, and Anna suffering from PTSD.  In Hunting Ground there is a lot more talk between the pair, with insights into their characters, double-bond and strengths and weaknesses.  Together they make a really powerful combination.  Again, there is plenty of action with icky vamps and a new group of werewolf characters to contend with.

* * * * * * * * * *

To be honest, I find the characters in the A&O series to be a little more realistic and well rounded than those in the Mercy Thompson series.  Whether this is a matter of point of view – Mercy is written in first person while A&O is in omniscient voice – personally I find them a lot more sympathetic and easier to identify / empathise with. 

Also, Mercy is seemingly unstoppable, she is fairly black-and-white and highly moral in her thinking, and charges into things.  She never seems to eat or sleep!  She is a real kick-arse heroine (which I love! – don’t get me wrong) but not until Iron Kissed did I get a real sense of her insecurities and what makes her tick.  This does make the series very interesting, of course, watching her character development and growth – and that of other major and minor characters too.

So . . . if Twilight makes you want to puke with its passive heroine and abstinence-only message (not to mention the beautiful sparkly twinkly vampires, FFSL) but you still like the urban fantasy genre and want to read about werewolves and vampires and their “lives”, head for B for Patricia Briggs in your favourite Big Chain Book Store or indie SF&F book shop.  (Or do as I do and order off Book Depository – grrrrreat prices, an amazing selection of titles in all sections, and FREE international delivery!!!) (!!!)

[When I met Tuxedo I looked like a Mini-Me version of Linda Hamilton in Terminator 2,  right down to the black combat pants and tank-top, but sans uzi.]

Over the years of course, my health and thus my routine had their ups and downs, but I always managed to keep some kind of exercise going.  Even when the situation got really bad – like last year where thankfully I had Tux around to look after me so I didn’t have to be hospitalised for months -  I managed to do daily stretches, leg lifts, sit ups, push ups, basic Pilates core work and resistance stuff.

At the start of this year, after The Year Of The Shite, I knew I had to get some serious informed physical therapy and rehabilitation to get me back on my feet.    But that wasn’t the only obstacle I faced . . .

. . . In the last few years I had turned from a slender muscled little thing into an increasingly-inflating blimp. 

All the procedures I’d undergone in 2006 and 2007, and the medication I was on, caused swift major weight gain.  The first time I tried to get into my loose fit jeans, after living in nighties and pj’s for six weeks, and couldn’t get them past my thighs I bawled like a baby. 

The weight gain horrified me, especially as I couldn’t do anything about it, and I kept getting wider and wider.  I was already on anti-depressants, and have always had major body image and self-esteem issues, but add in the weight gain and my emotional condition went from bad to abysmal.  Just as with the physical therapy and rehab, I knew I needed some serious professional help with “the heid”.

* * * * * * * * *

First stop was my GP.  I know I’ve said this before – and I will say it again – he is possibly the most understanding, thoughtful, holistic [without being airy-fairy], kind and generally awesome medical practitioner I have ever encountered. 

He got me into a fantastic Physical Therapy / Rehabilitation Programme, run from a private hospital.  This not only means I have access to exercise physiologists, physios / physical therapists, masseurs, even surgeons!;   I can keep coming unlike the public rehab clinics where you get kicked out of your programmes after six months regardless of your condition or status;  and the facilities are awesome.

I have already had two great sessions, and will be going twice a week [the last couple of weeks were cancelled due to damage done by a massive freak storm that rammed through Perth; the clinic’s roof crashed down, windows shattered, carpets flooded, equipment damaged].  I’m champing at the bit for more more more.

My first session was the usual first-time appointment with any new medical professional;  The Collection and its effects take a while to explain.  My personal [!] Exercise Physiologist is a real sweetie, I can see she “gets it”, and is going to design a gym programme and get me in the pool.

I adore hydrotherapy.  As well as the really well-equipped gym, there is a gorgeous hydrotherapy pool.  Heated, of course, with a ramp to walk down for shaky people like me.  The shallow end, where people practice walking, comes up to the chest;  to me, being somewhat Lilliputian, it’s way over my boobs.  Thus progress against the resistance and movement makes me work even harder.  This is a good thing!

There are lots of exercises; leg lifts with a weighted ring placed around the foot;  the usual kickboard – both holding with arms and kicking with legs, and holding between the feet and doing freestyle with arms;  “running” and “cycling” in the deep end with a noodle float to keep my head above water.  No water wings here, although there are paddles and various other accoutrements for different kinds of exercises.  I’m certainly not going to be bored!

Best of all the atmosphere is really relaxed and friendly, so I have a great time working out and look forward to my sessions.

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Part Two of my 2010 Resolution to lose weight, get fit, and get my head straightened out, started with my GP referring me to a couple of psychologists who were recommended by Pain Specialists, so they are familiar with chronic diseases and disabilities and the mental and emotional issues that arise.  While my GP was scribbling down names, I asked him to refer me to one of the Pain Specialists, just for the hell of it, like.  He was shocked and horrified my rheumatologist hadn’t sent me to one, given that extreme chronic debilitating pain and attendant fatigue are  my main issues.

I haven’t made any appointments yet [slap on wrist, I know] but I will.  I’m reluctant to talk to the psychologist but I know I have to, there’s too much horrible stuff going on in my head, it’s building up and I know that is not healthy.

I need strategies and resources and all that jazz, but most of all I need someone – an outsider – to talk to and make sense of the mess I’m in, and the baggage I am still carrying, from years and years ago, that I should have let go by now:   But it’s the kind of memories / problems / issues that lie dormant and then rear their ugly heads when I’m most vulnerable.

So, on with the motley!  I’ll keep you all updated on Operations “Reduce Elephant” and “Straighten Out The Heid” as I go on.