What a Way to End the Year!

Well, I wanted to get my writing back on track, and here it is. As of right now, my first published book in over two years is being processed by Amazon. I'm not sure if I'm going to count it as 2022 (since I finished writing and submitting it prior to the New Year) or 2023 (since it won't be approved and ready for sale until then). I'll probably wait to make that decision until I see how well I'm maintaining my yearly goals. Is that cheating? Only if I get caught.

So, what exactly is the book? It's the first book in an ongoing fantasy series. The series is 'The Shadowmage Saga'. The first book is titled, 'Apprentice'. Here's the cover:

It's not the snazziest cover, I know. But it is an excellent representation of the Forbidden Lands, a locale in the book (obviously). Since I have to rely on stock images for the moment until I can afford to pay a decent cover artist (shout-out to greyghost at Fiverr!), this will have to do.

The book is, at the moment, only going to be available as an ebook. I'm going to hold out on the paperback until I can hopefully get a proper cover done up.

So, what's it about? Well, there are a couple of hints on the cover. It involves saving the world, and saving children. Saving them from what? Bad things. Very, very bad things. But don't worry, this is a fantasy aimed at intelligent young adult readers. No sex, no bad language, reasonable levels of violence (and no gory stuff). As you know, I want to write stuff my kids and grandkids can read without needing parental advisory warnings.

The basic idea is this: Jandar, an apprentice to the Shadowmage, is sent on a mission of great importance to rescue some tribal humans from their magic-wielding oppressors. Why him and not the Shadowmage? Because master wizards are always too busy for that sort of thing, that's why. Jandar gets the short-end of the straw and gets to go save everyone while putting his own life in terrible peril. Because if he didn't, then the book would be really boring.

It's not a Harry Potter style book. It's a bit different from my Meterra books as well, although it's very much of a pulp style, with the action being pretty continuous throughout the book. I had the idea for this book years and years ago, and now it's a reality. I'm excited, and I hope you will be as well. I will post the link to the book as soon as it gets approved by Amazon. The book will be available for the very reasonable ebook price of $4.99 US, and it will be available in all Amazon markets around the world.

So, there it is. What a way to end 2022. I feel good about 2023, I really do. It's going to be a great year. Happy New Year, everyone!

Goals for 2023

I know, it's a bit presumptuous to set writing goals when I haven't been doing much writing for the past couple of years, but I need something to get my creative juices flowing at pulp speed. It's good to be sitting at the keyboard again and putting words to paper, but goals are important. So, let's see what we can do.

First, I'm going to set a reasonable goal of one published book per month in 2023. That's twelve books, whether they be novels or short story collections (more likely the former). Genre doesn't really matter, although I expect there will be a fairly even mix of fantasy and mystery. Maybe four of each. I would like to get another Meterra book done, as well as (of course) more Cameron Vail. I don't know about sci-fi; it's not my go-to genre. But we'll see.

I also want to keep my blog more consistent; daily writing is important, and forcing myself to post daily will help keep me on track for the rest of my writing.

If I'm going to write a book a month, I'm going to need to be consistently writing a minimum of a thousand words per day. Two thousand would be better, but one thousand has to be the floor. Thirty thousand words is a decent book; my mysteries have clocked in at roughly those numbers so far. But forty-five thousand or so should be a reasonable expectation.

So far, these goals seem reasonable and achievable, which is important. But there are other things going on in life besides writing. I do, after all, live on a farm. So, I'm going to set some farming goals as well.

The most important goal is to increase our income from the farm so I can move to a full-time at-home situation instead of driving to town every day to work. That isn't going to happen this year, but it's time to show some significant improvement in the farm income.

Our income from the farm this year came from three main sources: eggs, chicken, and pork. We didn't sell any vegetables from the garden; we just didn't grow enough. But next year, the gardens will be bigger, and I think I learned a lot in 2021 and 2022. So, we might see some actual income from the gardens in 2023.

As for the meat, we're planning to sell lots of meat chickens and raise three pigs instead of just two. For the chickens, the Cornish Cross breed is a quick-growing breed; eight to ten weeks from hatching to butchering. If we can grow a bunch of them (fifty or so) in the spring and sell them, we can do the same in the summer and fall as well. Two or even three sets of meat birds will be an excellent source of income. We're also looking at learning how to butcher them ourselves, which will save a lot of money; it costs quite a bit to butcher a chicken.

We also have laying hens, although we're going to be streamlining the flock to focus on one particular breed of chicken. We'll have to look over our egg production to see if selling them as a consistent product is a viable option. We had some issues with eggs this year; we need to make sure we do better for 2023.

As for pork, we did okay with raising the pigs this year, considering we had no clue what we were doing and we started late in the year. Our pigs weighed over 280 pounds each after slaughter, and we got a LOT of meat from them. Forty pounds of bacon alone. We actually sold enough pork that we made a profit and still had plenty of meat left over (including the bacon). So, we're going to look at picking up three bacon seeds this spring and raising them for the meat. We had enough takers for our pork packages this year that I have no doubt we'll do even better next year.

Finally, the big question: Should we get a couple of cows? I'm inclined to say 'no' right now, although I won't rule it out for later in the year. The main reason is because we're still new at this, and we don't have anywhere to put the cows for now. Which is ironic, since this used to be a dairy farm. But we've repurposed the barns, so bringing cows in would be a major undertaking.

Now, I can see the pros to raising a couple of cows. First, milk. Dairy products are getting insanely expensive here on the Island. Having a milking cow would mean we'd have a steady supply of milk, cream and butter that didn't cost us anything beyond the feed. But it would require me to get up every damn morning and milk the cow. The second cow would be a beef steer; raising a beef cow would mean we would be set for the year with whatever meat we wanted. But it's not going to be cheap.

So, it's something to think about for the upcoming year. In the meantime, though, writing has to happen. I'm going to get to that now.

Back to Formula...?

 

Yes, back to formula. Specifically, the writing formula. The one that has been successful for hundreds if not thousands of professional writers. And what is that formula? It depends on who you ask.

No, it's not that the formula is different. Not exactly, at least. The variations are there, but they are slight, often just in wording the same idea in different ways.

Now, bear in mind, there are two schools of thought on writing. The first one, and the one that most people think is the only acceptable one, is the one that involves outlining books, rewriting and polishing a manuscript, and sending it off to a publisher or an agent in the hopes of being signed to the next Stephen King contract.

The second one, and the one that works better for me (and many, many other writers, even if they don't publicly admit it) is where you just write. Finish the book, spell-check it, give it to a reader to do another spelling and grammar check, then publish the thing on Amazon or some other online self-publishing outlet. No re-writing after it's done.

My mentor in this...actually, I've had a few, but the most immediate one is Dean Wesley Smith, who has written and published a few hundred books over the years, as well as run his own publishing house. He's the one who introduced me, through his blog, to Heinlein's Rules, as well as my first awakening to the possibilities of writing, Pulp Speed. It was that post that made me sit up and realize that all my beliefs about writing were wrong. I didn't have to sit and rewrite constantly; I didn't have to spend weeks worldbuilding and outlining. Just sit down and write. That's how the professionals did it back in the days of the Pulps, and that's how many of them still do it today.

It's a simple formula; just write. And it's one I've neglected for quite a while as we got the farm established. But it's time to get back to formula and make the magic happen once again. 2023 will be a great year.

Back at the Keyboard...

...And it's about time. This won't be about farming, nosiree. There's writing to be done!

I've completed another fantasy book. It's not Meterra; it's an idea I've been toying with for quite a few years. I laid down the foundation of the book a couple of years ago, but only now is it ready to be read and published. I've sent it to my first reader (Hi, Mom!).

I think one of the things that's held me back from getting more stuff published is the dearth of usable cover art. If I had even a modicum of artistic talent, I'd look into doing them myself, but I gave up on art when I failed stick people in second grade. And with the economy in the current state, paying someone else to do it is not a viable option, unfortunately.

But, let's face it: It's the writing itself that matters. And I have finally sat my butt down in front of the keyboard and knocked this one out. It went so well that I've already started on the sequel and gotten the first chapter of that book done as well.

I'll find something I can slap on as a cover, just to get the book out. I haven't published anything since 2020, and it's time that changed. 2023 will see more accomplished, even with the increased workload on the farm. Because writing matters to me, and it's time I gave it the attention it deserves.

So, what's this one about? It's about a wizard. An apprentice wizard, to be more precise. His name is Jandar, and he's apprenticed to a very famous and powerful wizard, the kind that makes Gandalf and Dumbledore look like the Wizard of Oz. But this is Jandar's story, and the famous and powerful wizard doesn't take up a lot of screen time. Jandar gets sent to a faraway place on a mission to serve his master, and finds himself embroiled in a very serious mess, one that he has to fix in order to save humanity from eternal slavery. And why does Jandar have to do it, instead of the all-powerful super-wizard? You'll have to read it to find out. Suffice to say, Jandar's actually the only one who can do it.

This isn't an epic fantasy in the Tolkien vein; it's a pulp-action adventure. Lots of action, lots of fun stuff going on, not a lot of deep thought and philosophical musings. Hopefully, it will also be defined as 'fun'. Because if it's not fun, what's the point of writing in the first place?

Here's a brief excerpt of the book. Jandar has been magically transported to where he is meant to be, but he's been spotted by some unsavory goblins.

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       Jandar quickly gauged his distance from the copse. If he hurried, he should be able to beat them there, so he let his cloak billow about him as he ran. The cloak made a tempting target for archers, but the goblins didn’t seem to be using them. Grateful, he outdistanced them and ducked into the copse before they could run him down.

      Once he was out of sight of the road, he called to mind one of his favorite spells, the spell of Camouflage. Though he would not actually be invisible, he would blend into the surrounding terrain well enough that only the closest scrutiny would notice him, assuming he could remain perfectly still. He stood by a thick maple tree, the only one wide enough to provide him with suitable cover.

      Closing his eyes, he focused on the words of power. He could hear the goblins approaching, but he forced them out of his mind and concentrated. With the scale of a chameleon in hand, he spoke the words in a soft voice so as not to draw further attention to himself. He felt the scale disappear as it absorbed the magic of the whispered words, and after a moment of silence he opened his eyes.

      He watched the goblins tramp into the forest, their beady eyes looking everywhere for their prey. Jandar stood absolutely still, not daring to breathe too deeply. Two of the goblins ran right past him, oblivious to his presence.

      “Where did he go?” demanded one of them.

      “He must have slipped through to the other side.”

      “We should have brought the dogs,” said the first one. “They could sniff him out.”

      Not likely, thought Jandar. The spell of Camouflage also masked the caster’s scent, making it match the surrounding smells as well as the visual terrain. But he wasn’t about to explain that to the goblins.

      Out of the corner of his eye, Jandar saw a larger goblinoid approach. Unlike the majority, who were at least a foot shorter than the apprentice, this one stood more than six feet tall, his leathery skin and hide armor nearly blending together in a form of camouflage of his own. Regally, the tall goblinoid looked around, watching his minions continue their futile search. Behind him, six other goblins guarded three human children.

      “Azrak!” he shouted, and one of the searching goblins turned back.

      “I hear and obey, Master!” he simpered with an obsequious bow. “What do you wish of poor Arzak?”

      “This human that we saw appears to be some sort of crafty woodsman. Probably from the Panther tribe.” He sniffed the air and laughed raucously. “Or what’s left of them, anyhow. If you put your nose to it, you’ll smell him out.”

      “The Panthers are crafty indeed, Master!” agreed Azrak. “But they are not crafty enough to elude the Eyes of Jenkra!”

      “Not usually, no,” admitted Jenkra with a scowl. “Why has this one eluded my Eyes?”

      Azrak shrank back, almost whimpering. “It is not known, Master Jenkra! The human must have used the copse to distract us and ran out the other side.”

      “Then why aren’t my Eyes through the copse as well?” demanded Jenkra, glaring at his cowardly minion. “Send ten, now! I want that human found before he warns his village of our approach!”

      “Of course, Master!” replied Azrak with alacrity. He grabbed the nearest two goblins and chastised them on behalf of Jenkra, ordering them to grab four other goblins each and scatter to the other side of the copse to find the errant human.

      “What troubles you, Master?” asked Azrak in a tense voice.

      “I don’t like his appearance,” answered the tall goblinoid. “It is too convenient. The other tribes may have learned what happened to the Panthers, and intend to ambush us before we return to the Temple.”

      “The humans are fools,” hissed Azrak. “They cannot stand up to your mighty magic, Master!”

      “No, they can’t.” Jenkra looked around, and his eyes narrowed. “Cease, Azrak. I must concentrate.”

********************

Will Jenkra discover the hidden apprentice? Will the goblins triumph? Will the other tribes suffer the same fate as the mysterious Panthers? How will Jandar overcome the odds and save the day?

You'll have to read it to find out.

In the meantime, I have other fantasy books published, including The Devil's Playground, an anthology of stories from the world of Meterra. Check it out on Amazon, and enjoy!

Our First Hurricane

Well, that was certainly exciting. We got to experience a rare weather event here on the island, an event rare enough that even few Islanders have experienced it before. Apparently, Fiona was the most intense storm PEI has seen in a long, long time. By the grace of God, we came through it very well, especially compared to some other places on the island.

We spent three days getting ready; we moved all the chickens and bunnies into the barn, closed off the pig pen to the outside, gave them all lots of food and water to last them at least a full day. We moved every loose item we could find indoors, using an old, rusted freezer and a bunch of logs to keep the back door of the garage closed against the 192-km/hr wind gusts that hit us Friday night and Saturday morning. We harvested as much as we could from the garden, including tomatoes, squash, celery, and more. The potatoes weren't a concern; they're underground anyway. The corn, sadly, is no more; the winds flattened the entire crop, so that's two years in a row that we get no corn from the garden. Better luck next year.

So, Friday night was a hunkering-down time. The animals were checked once more, and as I was coming in for the last time I saw a rainbow off to the northeast, where the storm was coming from. I felt an incredible peace at the sight; that was God, assuring us that He's got this in hand, and we would be safe. I went in to grab my phone to take a picture, but by the time I got back outside, the sun had dipped below the horizon just enough, and the rainbow was gone.

So, the doors were locked and the praying began. The winds picked up here around nine o'clock, and by midnight it was like nothing we've ever experienced before. The rain pounded on the back of the house, but I checked the basement several times, as well as the attic, and there were no leaks, thankfully. We stayed nice and dry. The power went out around one or two in the morning; I was asleep then; Honeybunny had woken up and was downstairs. She came up as the house was shaking from the force of the winds, and woke us all up and said we should all be down in the living room for safety.

It wasn't comfortable, but it was for the best. We all stayed there and tried to sleep; some more successfully than others. By the time morning came, the winds were still pounding, but the dim daylight made things seem much better.

That's when we saw what the storm had done to our farm. The trees in the front were practically denuded of their lighter branches (and some bigger ones); the yard, which we had just cleaned up the day before, was full of sticks again. The worst was the barn; the doors, which we had finally repaired and closed in anticipation of the storm, were broken; one of them was hanging with just a single panel remaining, the others having snapped off. There was a piece of translucent plastic on the roof to let light in that had torn and partly broken off as well. A few trees in the back came down, and as I mentioned, the corn was flattened.

Amazingly, though, that was all the damage we suffered. The barn door is the biggest headache; we need that fixed before winter sets in. But other than that, there wasn't much else to worry about. I rebuilt the outdoor coop today for the meat birds, who are ready to go to slaughter this week, and the boys did some tree-cutting behind the barn to clean up the few trees that came down.

One thing that did come through nicely was our pumpkin patch. The leaves didn't do so well, but the pumpkins themselves? Beautiful. Here's Tanner with the first pumpkin picked from the garden.

  

In behind him, you'll see a tree at the front of the house. That tree has come down; it was leaning over the house and threatening the second floor, so we took it down today as well. Still, all in all we came through this ordeal very, very fortunate.

And, as a bonus, the power (and internet) are back on earlier than expected, so I get to post this blog tonight. Yay!

That's it for now; the tomato plants came through the storm very well, so we're still going to get to harvest more of those before the season is over. And, as I mentioned, the pumpkins are turning orange and beautiful. I can't wait to see how many we end up with by Halloween.

And the Beet Goes On

Another busy weekend of pulling stuff out of the ground. More tomatoes were plucked and turned into sauce, more potatoes came out, and the onions, both red and white, are drying on the porch. And the big one is the beets. I don't even like beets that much, but it was a very satisfying feeling to pull these out of the ground.

That's a full tub of beets out of an eight-foot patch of garden space. We don't eat a lot of beets, so these will last us quite a while.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the process, Honeybunny has been doing an incredible amount of prepping and storing vegetables. We've got bags and bags of frozen carrots, beans, and other assorted goodies down in the freezers. Not all of it came from our garden; we're getting stuff from a nearby greenhouse as well. They provide us with the produce, she preps it and stores it, and we keep half for ourselves while bringing the rest back to the greenhouse people. We've gotten cucumbers, basil, more carrots, and a bunch of other veggies as well. We'll be eating decently for quite a while now.

I really need to get back to writing about writing, but the farm is taking up a lot of time right now; even on days off, it's work, work, work. And strangely enough, it's very, very satisfying.

Harvest Season Begins

I swear, I do stuff besides working on the farm. Honest.

But, as I've said before, there is something truly incredible about reaching into the ground and pulling out something that you planted months ago as a tiny seed. We've harvested tomatoes, cucumbers, broccoli, cauliflower, celery, peppers, zucchini, summer squash, garlic, lettuce, onions, potatoes...and it just keeps going.

Today, I went for a full harvest of one particular crop: carrots. Behold my handiwork:

The box ended up being a little over half full. Not bad for a first-timer. Honey Bunny is diligently washing them and getting them ready to store; they'll last us a few months, hopefully, or less if we start focusing more on eating what we grow instead of buying it all.

I planted the seeds close together in the spring; that's how I got that many in a small, eight-foot bed. They were cramped, and it showed; some grew around each other, making it difficult to pull them out. And some of them were just massive. Two inches or more across at the top in one case. And they are all very, very tasty.

So, it's a short post today, but it's a good feeling. Food on the table is always a good thing. And my Honey Bunny can do amazing things with food. I can't wait to see what she can do with stuff this good.

The Andorian Incident: Enterprise Retrospective

Ah, here we go... This is one of my favorite episodes of the entire series. I absolutely love Shran and the Andorians. For old-school Trek fans, the Andorians made an appearance in the original series episode "Journey to Babel," as a founding member of the Federation. However, they almost never appeared afterwards, except for the occasional Andorian makeup as a background character. Now, they'll finally get their due.

The episode starts in a Vulcan monastery. The monks are doing Vulcan monk things, which looks like it involves standing around in contemplative poses. Then the door bursts open, and four blue-skinned aliens with wriggling antennae barge in. Cut to the opening theme (which I still like).

On the Enterprise, Captain Archer suggests to T'Pol that the ship could visit an ancient Vulcan monastery on the planet P'Jem. T'Pol agrees, but explains that there are plenty of protocols to follow, including a respectful silence, and the monks might not be welcoming visitors at all depending on the time of month. No, not that time of month; the Vulcans are all male.

The Enterprise arrives, and Archer beams down along with T'Pol and Trip as they continue to establish the Starfleet protocol of sending the most valuable and senior officers down into unknown terrain. Sure, they know it's a Vulcan monastery, which should be as safe as a nest of kittens, but still. It's the principle of the thing. Anyway, the Vulcan elder seems agitated, according to T'Pol, and tells her that the Enterprise crew can't stay. Archer and Trip spot an armed intruder reflected in a vase, and the fight is on. They overpower the blue-skinned antagonist, but the other three show up and disarm them.

It turns out that these Andorians, as identified by T'Pol, are long-standing antagonists of the Vulcans, on a par technologically but with a much more aggressive and suspicious nature. This particular group has been here before, believing the monastery is hiding a deep-space lookout post that is spying on the Andorians. Of course, the monks and T'Pol say that it's nonsense; it's a monastery, not a spy center.

The lead Andorian, Commander Shran, interrogates Archer, suspecting that the Enterprise was delivering supplies and/or weapons to the outpost. When Reed calls down from the ship, Shran informs him that Archer and the others are prisoners and warns him not to interfere in the Andorians' mission. Reed, being a good tactical officer, isn't going to take that from a comm voice, and starts prepping for a rescue operation. Meanwhile, the monks bring Trip to an ancient communicator in the catacombs, which he is able to repair. He gets in touch with Reed, telling him to hold off with the rescue to give Archer a chance to come up with a plan.

Archer does so, and the plan involves allowing the Andorians to beat the snot out of him so he can learn that the catacombs do in fact climb up to the main floor, behind a carved stone face. Since the Andorians don't have transporter technology yet, they aren't aware that the Enterprise can send a rescue team down without a shuttlepod. They do, however, detect the unusual energy signatures, charging in to find out what's going on. Fortunately, Reed's team is already in the catacombs, undetected by the Andorians. Reed gets to blow something up, and the fight is on.

The fight goes into the catacombs as Shran and his first lieutenant descend to avoid the now-greater numbers. In the confusion, an old curtain is torn away, revealing a very modern door with a computer-controlled lock. Archer is able to open the door, and reveals that the Andorians were right; there is a listening post that is spying on the Andorian homeworld. He orders T'Pol to scan the outpost and give the scans to Shran. He then calls the Enterprise and tells them to let the Andorians leave. Before leaving, Shran tells Archer that he is in the captain's debt.

Okay, so there's a lot in this episode. It's got some good action, great characterization, and one hell of a plot twist that probably pissed off a lot of old-school Trek fans. After all, the Vulcans are noble, logical, honorable and honest. Spying on another world? Using a monastery to cover it up? That's about as un-Vulcan as you can imagine. But here, it works. Of course, it makes sense that the Vulcans would indeed be spying on an antagonistic race whom they have been in conflict with before. There are disputed worlds between the two star nations, and long-standing grudges on both sides. Naturally, the Vulcans are keeping an eye on the Andorians. And what better to use as a cover than an ancient, non-technological monastery?

Now, the characterizations. T'Pol is in great form; her calm assertion that the Vulcan elder is 'agitated' draws a wide-eyed response from Trip, who still hasn't learned how to read Vulcan emotional states. She and Archer have a bit of a tiff when he quietly confronts her about her possibly divided loyalties if and when the fighting starts. Her response is the most human thing she's done in the show so far: She almost glowers at him and reminds him that she has never failed to obey his orders, then steals the blanket they were sharing. I really think the showrunners were planning for a potential Archer-T'Pol romance, or at least hinting at the possibility. Of course, it didn't work out that way. But that's for later.

Archer, on the other hand, does some pretty dumb things. He didn't need to get the crap beat out of him to find out about the secret tunnel behind the stone face; he could have sent Trip to look through the stone face's eyes to confirm it. But he does get some funny lines when he's giving the Andorians some 'intelligence.' And his own suspicions of the Vulcans and their intentions are fully validated by the end, when he discovers the outpost. He never trusted them in the first place, which of course would make him and Shran natural allies. But not yet...

Overall, this is easily the best episode so far, just as good as the pilot episode. And it qualifies as the first tiny step in the direction of the Federation. I'm giving it a 10 out of 10.

Chicken Math and a Neglected Garden

I swear, this blog wasn't intended to be a farming blog. But here we are.

Today was another crazy, busy day on the Sprigg farm. Since it was my 'day off', Honey Bunny and myself decided to do something nice for the chickens who have been stuck in cages and chicken tractors for so long. So, we built them a couple of fenced-in areas where they could wander around and chew up the grass. Two of them; one for the meat birds, one for the layers and dual-purpose birds. Oh, and the bunnies, too.

These are the Orpingtons and Bovins that we've been raising. Notice the two roosters in the middle (the brown ones with white tops and tails). There's a third rooster, who is only partly visible by the chicken tracotr and the plywood pretending to be a door. The bunnies are in the back, near their hutch.

And these are the meat birds (plus our sole remaining pure layer, Pecky Lynch). As you can see, the birds are voluntarily racial segregating themselves; the white birds are all at the far end, except for one rebel who's hanging out near the water, and the others near the front. The black ones (and Pecky) live in the tractor at the back, while the white ones are in their temporary cages that we put in the enclosure at bed time. Sure, it's not the most comfortable quarters, but they're only going to be with us for a few weeks before they take a trip to the freezer.

Meanwhile, I have a garden, too. And thanks to all the livestock issues for the past few days, I haven't spent much time with it except one evening of watering the plants. I de-tasseled the corn today, for which the pigs were grateful. They'll eat anything. Except green beans, for some reason. How am I supposed to get my kids to eat green beans when even the pigs won't eat them?

Anyway, I decided to apologize to the veggies for neglecting them for half a week. Little did I know what I would find...

For the uninitiated, that is a zucchini being held by a nine-year-old. And yes, it's that big. No trick photography. I found a few of them like that. And I was worried that the soil they were growing in wasn't going to give us top-quality stuff. Holy crap, was I wrong.

I also got a bunch of summer squash that just kept growing and growing and growing. Eighteen of them, all oversized and massive. The piggies are going to eat very well here. Beets, Swiss chard, carrots, onions, corn, tomatoes...and pumpkins. Lots and lots and lots of pumpkins. Even the bean plant is growing now.

It's quite a miracle, really. And yet, it's so commonplace. It's such an amazing feeling to go out and see all the things that are happening out there. And I still can't believe that I'm the one doing this.

Going Whole Hog on the Farm

It's official: We are farmers. What in the hell was I thinking?

Chickens, and bunnies, and pigs. Oh, my.

We bought them tonight from a family who are leaving the Island and moving back to Ontario. My sincerest condolences to them.

So, the pigs are Peppa (the one with the darker splotch on her neck) and George. Two sows, five months old. The question we have now is, do we butcher them both and sell one of them, or butcher one for our own freezer and keep the other one to breed. After all, we spent the whole day making that pen, and we're going to spend the weekend making the outdoor half for them. I don't want to just have them for a few months after all the work we're doing.

Besides, growing our own bacon seeds from scratch could be fun. And Garrett loves the pigs. I'm sure we'll get pictures of him playing in the pigpen before long.

The electric fence should be interesting; we'll have that up by the weekend, I hope. But we'll need to run some power to the barn to get it to work. Either that, or get a really humungous extension cord. Do they come in thousand-foot rolls?

Garrett experimented with the electric fence when we went to pick up the pigs. He found it to be a shocking experience. You may commence the eye-rolling. I'm old; I make dumb jokes.

So, now that we've got our newest farm additions settling in, it's time to do something more relaxing and head back to work in the morning. It's much more peaceful. And a lot less digging in dirt.

The Accidental Garden

There comes a point in every person's life when they start doing something new, and eventually get to a point where they feel they're getting pretty good at it. In my case, it's the garden. Or gardens, since we've got two of them. And no, the rhubarb patch growing by the garage doesn't count.

Aside from the bare patch where the beans were supposed to be, it's a pretty sweet garden. Apparently, other gardeners on the island have been saying that things aren't going well this year. I'd have to say that they're going pretty darn awesome for us. That's lettuce in the front on the left, the bare patch that has one bean plant and some herbs, then carrots and beets on the right. Behind them in the trellis are peas, followed by swiss chard and potatoes. In the third row are the transplants Honey Bunny bought this year: Broccoli, cauliflower, peppers, cabbage, Brussel sprouts, and tomatoes. In the fourth row it's transplanted corn and onions; the fifth row is all corn that I planted. Finally, there's our garlic patch and our raspberries and strawberries. All in all, it's a pretty sweet garden. Not bad for a second-year effort from a complete beginner.

The second garden isn't going as well; I planted a bit later than I should have, and the transplanted stuff isn't doing as well. The problem is that the soil isn't rich enough for what I put in there; next year, there will be compost thrown in. Still, it's not that bad; I've got zucchini, cucumber, melons, pumpkins, and squash in there. It looks like this:

That's the zucchini in the front and the cucumber next to it; the pumpkins are in the row behind, with the squash beyond them. Along with an absolute ton of weeds that I'm slowly extracting. Still, this is the first time growing this stuff, so I thought it was coming along okay.

Then God decided to show me how it's really done.

That's the third and fourth rows of the main garden. If you'll notice, the walkway is blocked off between them. That is what I didn't plant; that's zucchini, from seeds in the compost pile. And they are taking over like kudzu. They've covered some of the peppers, and the end of the onion row. They're spilling over into the fifth row as well. And those plants right in the front? Those are tomato plants that, again, grew out of the compost that I threw in the garden a couple of months ago.

Here's another angle showing the mutant zucchini plants. I think there are only three of them, maybe four, but they are taking up a lot of space.

So, I'm working every night and three days a week on making this garden happen, and suddenly I've got a bunch of stuff growing on top of it without any effort on my part; I wasn't even watering them because I thought they were weeds. Even the tomato plants grew without my help.

God is very generous. And He is such a showoff. 

Movie Review: The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1920)

Oh, we're going old-school on this one. VERY old school, in fact. This is a 1920 film from Germany that still stands as one of the best and most famous films of the silent era. Best known for its insane set design and its twist ending, this movie still has an impact to this day.

You doubt me? Oh, but it's true. This was the second time I watched this; I watched it in a college course a few years ago. But I didn't watch it alone. I watched it with my middle son, Tanner, a fourteen-year-old who is totally into cool stuff, not Dad's old stuff. But he couldn't turn away.

Yes, it's silent, and yes, it's German, and yes, it's nowhere near as creepy and horrifying as the sort of stuff we've been given in movies for the past few decades. But it's got incredible atmosphere, a very clever script, and as I mentioned, the set design is unreal. Literally. Everything on the screen has a twisted, warped perspective. There isn't a single right-angle to be found anywhere. Clerks sit on stools five feet high and bend over desks piled with scraps of paper. Roads and sidewalks are slanted. It's utterly wrong...and it's perfect.

See, the original screenplay was intended to reflect the national post-war attitude in Germany; the writers, Hans Janowitz and Carl Mayer, were pacifists who had different experiences during the Great War; Janowitz was an officer, Mayer a draft-dodger who faked insanity to avoid serving. Their original idea was to write an allegory about how the German government had brainwashed the German people into fighting a war and paying the consequences for it. The twist ending was not part of their original script. But without it, the movie likely would not have been remembered nearly as well as it is today.

So, short synopsis. A man named Francis sits on a bench, watching Jane, the woman he loves, walking by, oblivious to his adoring gaze. He tells the man next to him that she is his fiancée, but they have both suffered through a terrible ordeal. The story is then told, with the twisted, Impressionist art and sets leading the way.

It turns out that not too long ago, a man calling himself Dr. Caligari showed up at the festival with a strange and unique exhibit: A somnambulist named Cesare, a man who has slept his entire life. Caligari claims to be able to control Cesare, and wakens him to the delight and horror of the paying audience. Cesare is also able to predict the future, and predicts the death of Alan, Francis' best friend and rival for Jane's affections. That night, Alan is indeed murdered, and the police cannot locate the murderer.

Francis soon suspects Caligari of having something to do with the murder, and he's right; Cesare is the murderer, unknowingly committing crimes at the behest of the insane Caligari. He is sent to murder Jane, but instead of killing her, he abducts her. A chase ensues, and Cesare leaves the dumbstruck girl behind before collapsing in the roadway.

Dr. Caligari (left), Cesare, and Jane

Caligari turns out to be the director of the insane asylum, who has gone mad in an attempt to replicate the experiments of the actual Dr. Caligari, an 18th-century mystic who had hypnotized a somnambulist of his own, named Cesare. When the current Cesare was admitted to the asylum, the director successfully used him for his own experiments in hypnotism. When confronted, Caligari reveals his insanity, and is hauled into a padded cell of his own.

Returning to the bench, we reach the twist ending as we find out that Francis is actually a patient at the asylum, along with Jane (who believes she is a queen) and Cesare (who isn't a somnambulist, just a quiet, staring man with no homicidal tendencies). Caligari is the director, who now understands Francis' delusions and believes he can cure him.

Caligari was one of the highlights of German cinema in the 1920s, along with such films as Nosferatu, Metropolis, and The Golem. It was a hit on both sides of the Atlantic, doing well with American audiences. And while the horror elements are incredibly tame by today's standards, they are quite striking for their time.

This is definitely not a movie for everyone; modern audiences often struggle with silent movies. But if it is an acquired taste, it's definitely a taste worth acquiring. And I'm not the only one who thinks so; Tanner enjoyed it just as much, although the twist ending caught him by surprise.

Check it out; it's public domain, so it's available on YouTube or the Internet Archive, as well as on DVD and Blu-Ray. 

Movie Review: The Mask of Zorro (1998)

I reviewed the Tyrone Power Mark of Zorro a while back; now it's time to review this one. And, as a bonus, I got to watch it not only with Tanner, but I even got my wife to sit down for this one, as well as Garrett for a while before he fell asleep. And while it will be like pulling teeth to get her to admit it, she enjoyed it.

This movie is exactly what you want in a swashbuckling extravaganza. There's action, swordfights, acrobatics, romance, comedy, and explosions. It's a recipe that's worked since The Adventures of Robin Hood (although that one didn't have explosions), and it worked very, very well here.

In a sense, this one is a sequel as much as it is a reboot. Don Diego de la Vega (Anthony Hopkins), the original Zorro, is older now and ready to hang up his mask and sword. But stuff happens, and his mortal enemy, Rafael Montero (the outgoing governor of California) figures out who he is. We get a cool fight scene in a burning house, and Diego's wife is killed by one of Montero's men. Worse, Diego is arrested and thrown into prison, but not before Montero takes his infant daughter, Elena, to raise as his own child.

Twenty years later, Montero returns, and Zorro escapes prison to get his revenge. He soon learns that his daughter has accompanied Montero to California, which throws a wrench in his plans. He finds a drunk Antonio Banderas, looking for revenge for the death of his brother at the hands of Montero's main henchman, Captain Love. Realizing that Alejandro (Banderas) is the same kid that helped him at the beginning of the movie, he trains him in swordfighting and courtly manners and turns him into a carbon copy of his younger self; foppish and arrogant as a nobleman, swift, deadly and cunning as a masked avenger.

There's a plot about buying California's independence from Mexico, using gold secretly mined in California that the Mexican government doesn't know about. Alejandro, in his nobleman disguise, finds out about the mine and has to stop the villains from completing their plan and killing all the workers to hide what they've done. Meanwhile, Diego returns to Montero's house to have it out with him, and Elena (Catherine Zeta-Jones) learns who her real father is.

Big climactic fight scene at the end as both heroes get their revenge, and the innocent workers are saved from the mine explosion. It's very exciting, but the point of the movie isn't the plot; it's in the atmosphere and the set pieces. And oh my, are these good set pieces. The opening scene, the barracks fight, Alejandro's dance with Elena, the infiltration of Montero's mansion, the fight in the barn, the closing battle...it just keeps coming. And it's paced very well, so there is time to breathe between the big moments.

My wife enjoyed the scene in the confessional as well as the dance, and she paid attention through most of the movie. It's rare that we find a movie that we will both like, but this is definitely one of them. We won't watch it again any time soon; she rarely watches a movie more than once. I've seen it at least a dozen times, though.

This is a fantastic movie, one that I recommend to everyone. The only scene that might be questionable for kids to watch would be the fight in the barn between Zorro and Elena, just for the ending. It's played for laughs, and it works, but there is definitely sexual tension throughout the scene. And she ends up topless, although she has strategically-placed bosom-length hair to keep the movie from showing nudity.

Action scenes and swordfighting are a big part of my own writing, so if you want to see how movies like this inspired me, check out my first fantasy novel, The Chronicles of Meterra: Arrival, on Amazon. And support indie writers, because pop culture isn't producing this sort of entertainment anymore.

Terra Nova: Enterprise Retrospective

Ah, I miss this show. It was such a breath of fresh air after twenty-one seasons of far-future, super-advanced Federation technology, fighting the Borg and the Dominion and running around the galaxy like a futuristic delegation from the United Nations. In this episode, we see the Enterprise doing something more prosaic: solving one of the early mysteries of deep space exploration and colonization, the lost colony of Terra Nova.

Terra Nova is described as one of the first attempts by humans to settle another world. Using early-stage warp engines that can take years to go from one star system to the next, the colonists successfully landed on a planet and named it 'Terra Nova', or 'New Earth'. Quite the ambitious declaration. When Earth sought to send another batch of colonists to the same world, the original group protested, and it devolved into a nasty war of words that culminated in TN cutting off all contact with Earth. No one had been there since, until the Enterprise, fast enough to make the trip in a much shorter time, dropped by for a visit.

They discover a race of underground people who speak a primitive form of English, who take Lt. Reed captive and demand that the Enterprise and its crew of 'humans' leave them alone. It doesn't take a degree in anthropology to figure out that these people are the descendants of the Terra Nova colonists, driven underground by a radioactive meteor that poisoned the surface and killed most of the adults; the only survivors were the children, who demonstrated true colonial spirit in figuring out how to survive without any adults to guide them.

In the end, one of the oldest Novans is identified as a young girl from the original colony, and Archer works with the Novan leader to rescue one of the trapped Novans from drowning. The Enterprise leaves Terra Nova without bringing any of its people back to Earth, since they have no memory of the planet anyway and are adapted to survive here. And thus, the mystery of Terra Nova is solved.

This isn't one of the episodes I look back on with fondness. The background is, frankly, weak. The original colonists (of which there were about eighty or so) complain that Earth is sending more people? It's a planet, not an isolated valley. You're going to need some genetic variation to sustain a tiny population like this anyway. You don't want to see the newcomers? They can land on the other side of the world and never have anything to do with you! Threatening a state of war with your home planet when you have zero space capability (having used the colony ship as building materials to get the colony started)? And then blaming Earth for 'sending' a radioactive asteroid to kill you all? Come on. There is so much wrong with that premise to begin with, that it makes the whole episode fall flat.

As for the Novans themselves, the idea is interesting and executed fairly well. The Novans, who were all children and their descendants after the adults all died in the radiation poisoning (why the kids didn't die isn't fully explained), grew up believing that Earth had killed their parents and abandoned them to their fate. Of course they don't consider themselves humans, and treat the Enterprise crew as enemies.

There are some nice character moments; Mayweather is the most excited crewmember, having learned about the lost colony as a child and wanting to solve the mystery. Archer frustrated that he is supposed to be making first contact with alien species, and he can't even do it right with a colony of humans. It's an episode that showcases just how comparatively primitive this show's setting and technology are compared to the original series, let alone the TNG/DS9/VOY era.

Overall, though, this is the weakest episode thus far, and that's two poor ones in a row. This one is getting a 2 out of 10; the interesting initial premise is overshadowed by the terribly thought-out backstory. Very disappointing.

Next time, though...we meet the Andorians. Oh, yes.

Manly Men Doing Manly Things

Growing up, I was always a 'brain-work' kind of person, not a 'physical labor' type. Now that I'm on a farm, that has changed a bit. But even after we moved here, we relied on our oldest to help with a lot of that sort of work, because he likes it a lot, and because I don't. But he's been unavailable for the past little while thanks to working two jobs and spending lots of time with his girlfriend, so it's fallen to me.

And dear Lord, does it ever hurt. Fifty-one years old is not the time to start doing construction projects and working with power tools. But, you do what you have to do. And I had to do it, so I did it.

Yes, it's a chicken tractor. With twenty chickens moved into it last night. We were extremely fortunate that we still had the old tractor that we built last year, or at least its frame, mostly together. It took about fifteen hours of work to complete the frame, attach the wire mesh, and get it ready for its occupants.

I learned quite a bit from our first attempt last year; instead of just stapling the mesh, I used 1x3 strapping for a much more secure setup. Ain't nothing getting through that. And we didn't mesh the bottom this time, to give the chickens the opportunity to scratch at the ground and dig for bugs. So there's always the possibility that a predator could dig underneath, but it's a chance we'll have to take. I added the birch log to give them a place to roost as well. It's still small for the number of chickens in there, but it's just a temporary home, and much bigger than the small crate they spent the past few weeks in.

Kudos to our middle son, Tanner, for helping out; he's learning how to use the tools as well. It's important to learn to be as self-sufficient as possible, especially with the economy going as it is. The more we can do on our own, the better off we'll be. Gardening, raising chickens and rabbits, doing our own repairs and farm projects...it all adds up to free-range living.

This project didn't cost us anything more; the frame was already there, the mesh was reused from the old tractor, and my wife picked up the strapping on the side of the road for free. We had the tools and screws, as well as the framing wood, so all this cost was time. And my sedentary nature. And a lot of Advil. Because dear Lord, this really hurt.

But seeing the happiness on my wife's face when she came out to see it? Worth every ache and pain.

Alternate History

The most asked question in history is, "What if?"

"What if the South had won the Civil War?"

"What if Hitler had won?"

"What if the Spanish Armada conquered England?"

"What if the Soviets kept missiles in Cuba?"

"What if the American Revolution had failed?"

"What if France defeated England in North America?"

There are literally millions of possible questions of this sort; what if this particular historical event had gone a different way? What would be the result?

This is the field of alternate history, a sub-set of science fiction. Basically, there is a PoD, a Point of Departure, where one, possibly very small, event turns out differently than it did in our actual history. One of the most well-known examples of this is Harry Turtledove's 'American Empire' series, where the Union never gets hold of Lee's plans for Gettysburg thanks to a sharp-eyed Confederate soldier who rescues the dropped orders. Not able to anticipate Lee's intentions, the Union is hopelessly outclassed at the battle, and the American Civil War is effectively over, with two countries now occupying the land where one once stood united. Turtledove wrote a lengthy series of eleven books in which he explores the aftermath of this single action, with the action beginning with another war between the North and South in 1881 and ending with the end of World War II in 1944. It's justly known as one of the most intricate and detailed alternate history stories out there, and Turtledove himself is the acknowledged master of the genre. So much so, in fact, that there is an award named after him on the Alternate History forums.

Yes, that's a thing; a web forum where people toss out ideas and write lengthy timelines exploring various facets of 'what if' in history. There are pre-Christian timelines, Fall of Rome stories, medieval alternates, and of course, Civil War and World War II explorations; those two are the most popular topics for alternate history speculations.

Right now, I'm reading a very lengthy and detailed timeline about what might have happened at the beginning of World War I, if the Germans had a couple of cruisers near the Canadian west coast at the time war was declared. Due to political wrangling and a focus on the east coast, Canada had but one functioning warship on the west coast at that time, the Rainbow, which would have been outclassed by either of the likely German cruisers in the region. It's a fantastic read, very well-researched, and while it only covers a brief span of time (the writer stated that it would only cover roughly the month of August, 1914), it's filled with incredible possibilities for a future in which Canada almost certainly develops a strong Navy in the aftermath of what would devastating coastal raids in British Columbia.

Alternate history has subgenres as well. There's fantastic alternate history, where magic makes an appearance in some historical period, such as the Crusades or the Roman Empire; there's sci-fi alternate history, such as an alien invasion in World War II (another Turtledove series). One recent addition to the alternate history genre is 'steampunk'. This is a genre in which fantastic technologies imagined by 19th-century writers such as Jules Verne and H.G. Wells become a reality; a particularly popular point is Charles Babbage's attempt to build a functioning computer (The Difference Engine), which could do complex calculations. His designs were recovered decades later, and a working model of the Difference Engine has been built. Imagine Victorian England with computers. Where would we be today?

Some alternate history focuses on the actual PoD, where the immediate aftereffects of the change are explored. Others look further into the future, looking at how society would have developed differently in the intervening years between the PoD and the setting of the story. Both provide interesting and exciting possibilities. And there's another branch of this genre in which our timeline is somehow mixed with an alternate one, usually through time travel or some other such device, where people from our familiar history are transported to a different world with a parallel history.

While Turtledove is the master of the genre, he wasn't its originator. The oldest known example of alternate history comes from Ancient Rome; the historian Livy speculated on what would have happened had Alexander the Great lived to invade Europe as he had planned, and how Rome would have fared against his forces. That was written in the late 1st century BC.

I'm going to recommend a few alternate history books that deal with a variety of historical periods and how history could have been changed with just a twist of fate. All of these are rightly regarded as classic works of the genre.

L. Sprague de Camp, Lest Darkness Fall (a time traveler goes to Classical Rome and tries to prevent the fall of the Empire)

Eric Flint, 1632 (West Virginian miners are transplanted to the Thirty Years' War in Germany)

Philip K. Dick, The Man in the High Castle (The Nazis won World War II, splitting North America with Japan)

Keith Roberts, Pavane (Spanish conquer England, no Industrial Revolution but there are fairies)

William Gibson & Bruce Sterling, The Difference Engine (Babbage succeeds in building the first computer in Victorian England)

Harry Turtledove, pretty much anything

These are a good start for the reader interested that most mysterious of questions, "What if?" Enjoy, and learn some history.

Mixing Genres

One of the most interesting things one learns when reading pulp stories is that 'genre' is just a word. The notion of splitting stories up based on a particular theme was common enough in the early days of the pulps; there were fiction magazines devoted to railroads, for example, or westerns, or scientific topics such as electronics. But the biggest sellers didn't bother with these distinctions. They contained stories that would appeal to a wide range of readers, which is why they sold the most.

For example, the first part of Edgar Rice Burroughs' first published novel, A Princess of Mars, shared space in the February All-Story Magazine with romance stories, western stories, comedies, poetry, and adventures on the high seas. It was a grab-bag, and it was one of the most popular selling magazines in North America. Two hundred pages of variety, fun for everyone. All for the low price of a dime.

Later, the idea of 'genre' came out of the science fiction camp of fans; they wanted to define what a 'science fiction' story was allowed to be. It had to be plausible, scientific, and 'realistic' in terms of if it 'could' happen in our own future. Stories such as Princess of Mars, or Abraham Merritt's Moon Pool, were suddenly disqualified from the ranks of science fiction despite their scientific basis, which was based on scientific knowledge of their time. Instead, they were 'relegated' to the realm of fantasy fiction.

Horror is another genre that gradually became separated from its fantastic cousins; while Weird Tales Magazine, as well as some issues of Amazing Stories, contained stories with horror elements, the idea of separating horror from other genres didn't come until much later. But during the twenties and thirties, in magazines such as Weird Tales, writers such as Clark Ashton Smith and H.P. Lovecraft were published right alongside Robert E. Howard and Seabury Quinn. It was a time when the writer's mind could truly roam free, using whatever story elements fit the author's vision.

Burroughs' Pellucidar envisioned a hollow Earth, with an entire world on the underside of the Earth's crust inhabited by dinosaurs, ape-men, and enormous creatures from Earth's dim past, as well as humans. H.P. Lovecraft's horror contained science fiction elements such as the Mi-Go, fungi from the ninth planet of our solar system (written around the time Pluto was discovered). And Robert E. Howard's Conan, the quintessential fantasy hero, fought eldritch horrors that wouldn't have seemed out of place in a Lovecraft story.

Unfortunately, that sense of 'anything goes' was lost for a long time. Go to a modern bookstore and look at all the genre sections. There's mystery, there's fantasy, there's sci-fi (sometimes the latter two are combined), there's horror, there's romance, there's westerns...it's all neatly categorized, and you can generally have a pretty good idea of what you're going to get when you pick a book out of one of those sections. And that, frankly, gets to be boring. There are only so many ways you can pastiche or deconstruct Tolkien before the stories are predictable. And who reads for predictable?

Today, indy writers are mixing genres the way it used to be done. Brian Niemeier, for example, has written the Nethereal series, which combines far-future science fiction with cosmic horror. Larry Correia's Monster Hunter International mixed modern military-style fiction with fantastic creatures such as werewolves. The genre lines are blurring again, and that's a good thing.

The best compliment a pulp-style writer of fantasy or science fiction can get is that his story can't be categorized in any particular genre. Mix it up! Who cares if your swashbuckling hero in 17th-century France runs into a Roswell alien? That's a cool story! Or a dragon taking on an F-18 in an aerial dogfight? Bring it on! Stories like that expand the imagination and get the reader thinking outside of a particular box. And who knows? That might lead them to a whole new pack of stories that they would never have read had they stuck to a genre.

The old pulps had it right; appeal to multiple audiences, and sell more copies. It's time to get back to that mindset, and ditch the rigid compartmentalization of writing.

Consistency

One of the things I learned when I started writing seriously was that the key to success isn't brilliance or creativity; it's consistency. Consistently writing something daily, whether it be a quick short story or a chapter of a novel, was the only way to succeed. And for over a year, I did that. Unfortunately, since we moved, I have not been anywhere close to consistent. In fact, I've gone months without even posting on this blog. So it very much feels like I'm starting over.

The good news is that I have started writing again; another Cameron Vail mystery. It's only just started, and time pressures mean I don't have the luxury of having a couple of hours uninterrupted every night to work on it. But that doesn't mean I can't put in some effort every day, even if it's only fifteen or twenty minutes. Again, consistency is the key.

The idea of 'waiting for inspiration' has killed more writing careers than anything else. I know it; I've read words to that effect dozens of times. But it's still a matter of planting your butt in the seat and typing, without all the distractions that are so easy to find today. Put on a YouTube video for background music? Before long you're watching other things, and jumping around to whatever distracts you from doing the actual writing.

So, how to maintain consistency? Again, it's just a matter of committing to do something every day. Even if it's just a few minutes. Eventually, more time will be available, and there will be some days where hours will open up for uninterrupted writing. But in the meantime, being consistent in the little things will make a big difference. Writing a thousand words a day means a novel can be finished in two months or less. Two thousand words? A book a month. That's consistency, and that's the goal.

Let's see if I can get back on track.

Tombstone (1993) Review

Well, I've written science fiction, fantasy, mystery, steampunk superheroes, pulp heroes...but not a western. Not yet, at least. Maybe I will at some point. My son and I have been delving into the old Lone Ranger TV series lately, but tonight I wanted something a bit more...grandiose. For research for future writing. That's the ticket.

So, I put on one of the all-time greats, Tombstone. A movie absolutely loaded with stars, past, present and future, based on real history and full of quotable lines that still resonate nearly thirty years later. And yes, I called it an all-time great, because it is exactly that. Action, romance, comedy...this movie has it all and then some. And, much like Desmond Doss of Hacksaw Ridge fame, the reality overshadows the movie, because some of the stuff these men did was too much even for Hollywood to believe.

I'm not going to recap the whole movie in detail; basically, Wyatt Earp and his brothers and their wives move to the silver mining hub called Tombstone, Arizona. There they encounter the Cowboys, a semi-organized crime gang of red-sashed riders who terrorize the civilians and threaten the lawmen. Wyatt just wants to settle down and live a normal life, but things keep piling up until he and his brothers are sworn in as sheriff and deputies. There's this famous gunfight you might have heard of, but in the aftermath, Wyatt's brothers are taken out. Wyatt and his friend, Doc Holliday, lead a small band of Marshals who go after the Cowboys, breaking their control over the region and restoring law and order.

That's the short version; now go watch the movie yourself, because it's fantastic.

So, the cast. As I mentioned, it's full of stars. The leads are Kurt Russell as Wyatt Earp, Val Kilmer as Doc Holliday, Sam Elliott as Virgil Earp, and Bill Paxton as Morgan Earp. Dana Delany plays the love interest, and Charlton Heston has a brief cameo as well. The bag guys include Michael Biehn as Johnny Ringo, Powers Boothe as Curly Bill and Stephen Lang as Ike Clanton. Thomas Haden Church plays Billy Claiborne, and Billy Bob Thornton shows up as a cowardly bully who gets manhandled by an unarmed Wyatt in one of the movie's juiciest scenes. And there are plenty of others as well; this cast was stacked.

Favorite scenes (and everyone who has seen this movie has them) include the aforementioned bully take-down, the arrest of Curly Bill for murdering the sheriff (while high on some kind of opiates), the gunfight at the OK Corral, and the final showdown between Holliday and Ringo. Actually, any scene with Doc Holliday can be considered a favorite scene; Val Kilmer was absolutely spectacular in this role. Every time I look at a clip from the movie on YouTube, I see the same comment over and over: Kilmer should have won the Best Supporting Actor Oscar for this movie. To the Academy's eternal shame, he wasn't even nominated. In fact, Tombstone got a grand total of zero Oscar nominations that year, which is a crime against entertainment.

So, what is that makes this such a great movie? Well, it's a very masculine movie. These are men. They have a moral code (or, in the case of the Cowboys, the antithesis of one), they take action when necessary, and they aren't afraid to stand and fight when needed. But they don't go looking for fights; Wyatt's admonishment to his younger brother Morgan that killing a man 'changes you inside' rings true; Wyatt spends the first half of the movie trying to keep a low profile. It's only when Virgil has had enough and enlists Morgan to join him as a town deputy that Wyatt finally accepts the inevitable. And when bad men are doing bad things, it takes good men to stop them, and sometimes there is a price to pay. These men do what has to be done.

Is it 100% historically accurate? Of course not; it's a Hollywood movie. But the OK Corral gunfight did happen. Wyatt did try to stay out of law enforcement in Arizona until circumstances forced him to do so. Doc Holliday really did have the reputation of being one of the deadliest gunfighters in the West. And yes, Wyatt really did shoot Curly Bill at near-point-blank range while somehow managing to not get hit by a single bullet.

The Old West has been mythologized for decades, but it was a real time and place, and there were real men like Wyatt Earp and Doc Holliday who blazed a trail and wrote their names in the history books. And the Western is the American genre, more than any other. Aside from romance, the western was probably the most popular genre of fiction in America for decades. The first real movie (with a plot, beginning, middle and end) was a western, The Great Train Robbery. Hollywood made thousands of westerns; TV and radio shows like the Lone Ranger, Gunsmoke, Bonanza, and dozens of others were the most popular of their time. And even when the western began to die off during the Space Age, the most popular science fiction shows were basically westerns in space. Even Star Trek was originally pitched as a 'Wagon Train to the Stars' to get the green light from the studios.

So, I have to give this movie the highest recommendation; it's that good. Check it out, and see what I mean.

Bunnies Gonna Bunny

It's farming season, and there's always lots to do on a farm, even a small one like ours. We're going to start building another chicken coop this weekend to accommodate the thirty young birds that are growing up in the garage right now, and we picked up a couple of female bunnies to give Bugs some companions. They're too young to be in the same hutch as him, though, so they're in a small, separate house while Bugs lives with the chickens in the coop. Hey, he's happy in there.

Here they are: the brown one is Jellybean, and the gray one is Artemis. That's the box we brought them home in back in April. Feel free to make 'Awww!' noises.

Anyway, as we were doing the farm chores last night, feeding and watering all the animals, we found an unusual amount of dirt in the rabbit hutch. And we couldn't find Artemis. Turns out, she was doing what bunnies do: she was digging. We moved the hutch to some fresh grass and I snapped these pictures.

I didn't realize at first just how far she had dug down. But she had disappeared down the hole, and it wasn't until she backed out that I was able to even see her, let alone grab her and put her back in the hutch.

Like I said, bunnies gonna bunny. We're going to have to move the hutch more often if she's going to keep doing that. Or put them on a much stronger ground, like concrete. I don't like to do that, because I know they like the grass, but we don't need holes like that all over the property.

We'll see what happens; for now, we'll continue to make do and figure it out as we go.

Desecration

I've been struggling with things to write about for my blog, which is why I keep taking these long breaks in between posts. But tonight, I got me a topic, and I'm going to rant.

Now, understand that I no longer watch TV. Nothing current, anyway, unless it's a documentary about history or farming or something like that. TV shows these days? They're largely garbage. I know, there are people who disagree with me, and that's fine; everyone is entitled to their opinion, even when they're wrong.

My wife and son watch Survivor, which I've never been able to understand. I mean, people act shocked when they get stabbed in the back by someone they trusted. Why is anyone surprised by backstabbing in Survivor? These are people fighting to win a million dollars. I've seen people do worse to each other to get a corner office.

Anyway, tonight they were watching a show called 'Bel-Air.' Here, I'll quote from Wikipedia:

"Bel-Air is an American drama streaming television series developed by Morgan Cooper, Malcolm Spellman, TJ Brady, and Rasheed Newson. It is a reimagined version of the sitcom The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air and is based on Cooper's short fan film of the same name."

Fresh Prince, reimagined into a drama. Again, I don't watch TV, so while I had heard my son talk about the show, I had no clue what it was about. I do remember the sitcom; I wasn't a regular watcher of Fresh Prince back in the day, although I did see it once in a while, and there are some very good episodes that mix drama and comedy very, very well. The show was never really that edgy, certainly not by today's standards, but it touched on important themes, including the importance of family.

As I'm walking through the living room, I catch sight of the scene they're watching. I see a young black man snorting cocaine off a desk and cursing at the other young black man about some girl. Okay...? That's really not appropriate material for my son to be watching, so why is my wife all--THAT WAS CARLTON?!?!?!?!!!!

CARLTON?!

Carlton is a coke-snorting headcase in this version of Fresh Prince?

This Carlton?

What in the actual bloody hell?

Is this what passes for entertainment today? I realize I'm getting older, but that has nothing to do with the fact that this is a horrible concept. And what makes it worse is that Will Smith loves this 'reconceptualization' of his break-out series. I wonder what Alfonso Ribiero (the original Carlton) thinks of what's been done to his character. I can't imagine he's too thrilled that he's become a cliché, and a pretty awful one, at that.

Maybe I'm way off-base here, but when I see this sort of thing, I weep for society. This is pure garbage. I'm picking my words carefully, because I would rather not start using the same words new-Carlton uses. Call me old-fashioned or whatever, but I would much rather see a more wholesome form of entertainment than what I just saw. I'm not going to post a clip of the new show, because it really isn't appropriate for kids. I don't care that it's 'relevant,' or 'updated.' I care that the show's creator, and the star of the original, just took a massive leak on his legacy.

Fresh Prince was a show that showed positive role-models for young people of any race; sure, Carlton was a rich dweeb, but he had a lot of depth. Uncle Phil was a great father, tough and stern when he needed to be with the kids (including Will), but an absolute bear when he was standing up for them. There was a real sense of family in the show, which is what made it a classic.

Reading the Bel-Air episode descriptions on Wikipedia, the pilot episode manages to include drug dealers, guns, racism, drug use, innuendo and fighting. And I'll bet no one was laughing. And this is what passes for entertainment today?

Maybe I'm just yelling at kids to get off my lawn, but this is what our 'entertainment' has ben reduced to. And I want nothing to do with it. I'll stick to the classics, the shows with a positive message, the stuff that is actually entertaining. In the meantime, I'll keep the cable cut and the networks off.