34 things I thought while watching The Expendables 2

I took a vacation this week. One of the things I did was see the movie, The Expendables 2. Here is my 34-point review. #spoiler alert#

1.  Oooooo. Explosions. 
2. Wait? Did the heroes just flip their jeep? 
3. Are they all crushed? 
4. Nope. Apparently not. 
5. If gratuitous violence has a name, it’s The Expendables 2 
6. Oh Jesus. The blood! The blood! 
7. The Expendables must have a teleporter. Sylvester Stallone was just in the jungle. Blink. Now he’s piloting the plane. 
8. Hey, I think that’s Frank Stallone’s new song. OK. It’s over. 
9. Why don’t they just prop open the safe door? They’re going to crush the new girl. 
10. The new guy on the team might as well be wearing a red ensign’s shirt. 
11. There is something very wrong with Jean-Claude Van Damme’s eyes. 
12. That was their plan? What was plan B? 
13. They’re going to get the new guy killed. 
14. The new guy’s dead. Who saw that coming?
15. The thing in the safe was a blueprint? 
16. Chuck Norris should really stop dying his hair. 
17. Haa! Chuck Norris telling a Chuck Norris joke! 
18.  Women can’t shoot. Ha! (Sorry to laugh, but this is what the movie wants me to believe). Except for hot Asian chicks. They can shoot. They can also beat someone senseless with a tree branch. Although, why is she beating someone with a tree branch when clearly she has a gun or two? 
19. And the award for best fight scene with a thurible goes to: Jason Statham.
20. My drunken, one word summary of The Expendables 2: Thurible 
(Sounds like “terrible” slurred. Get it? Come on, work with me here.) 
21. Ravens on skulls are cool. Fountain pens with skulls are cool. Cycles with skulls are cool. What about a toilet with skulls? A raccoon skin cap with a skull embroidered on it? A skull drawn on a skull upon a skull? 
22. I should get a skull tattoo. 
23. Arnold!!! 
24. But I wanted the village women to be piloting the crazy drilling machine to rescue their men. They can’t shoot; maybe they’d be good at heavy machinery? 
25. This is good caramel corn. 
26. Why is it spelled “caramel” and not carmel? 
27. A Smart car chase scene in the airport. Yes! Brilliant. 
28. Wait. They’re having a shootout in a crowded airport? What about all the innocent bystanders?
29. Machine gunfire = cool. What? Did they just shoot a coffee barista? Did they just shoot a newspaper vendor? A baby? Chuck Norris? They prob’ly all had it coming. 
30. Why did they swap out Jet Li for Nan Yu (aka the hot Asian chick) early in the film? Is Jet Li not hot enough? Is his acting too good? 
31. “Do you know how to carve a turkey?” WTF does that line mean? 
32. Why are all the surviving cast members reciting the Vachel Lindsay poem, The Congo? 
33. Am I the only person in the audience who knows this poem? 
34. What no gag reel?

RIP John Barry

John Barry passed away today. I can't say that I was a huge fan, but I was a fan. Like many of us, his music has touched my life more than once and if you take a moment to browse through the list of movie soundtracks he's composed I think you'll be able to say the same.

How is this relevant to The Scribblerati blog? Only marginally, to be honest. I always write to music. Typically, that's something techno-ish; mostly house, with a little trance and other whatnot thrown in. Every once in a while though I'll turn to some classical and a soundtrack that I always come back to is:

I love the Dances With Wolves soundtrack. It's sweeping, haunting, and beautiful all at the same time. In many ways, the imagery and emotions it evokes is almost perfect for writing. I don't know about you, but there's something about truly excellent music that always stimulates my creativity.

And there's one other thing about Dances with Wolves that I'll never forget. That's the movie the lovely @mplstravelkitty and I saw on our first date.

Go ahead and follow the links and let us know how John Barry affected your life.

#reverb10 - Action!

Hokay…

It's now been over a week since I last did one of these #reverb10 posts and that makes it official: I've fallen off the wagon.

I have good excuses though. Really! I was kind of under the weather for a few days there. Then there's the weather itself which has really blown goats and frakked my commute up good. The real killer was last Saturday's family Christmas. We hosted, which means lots and lots of prep work, but it was all good. We went non-trad this year and had Mexican Christmas. We made to slow cooked beef brisket, homemade refried beans, fresh salsa & guacamole, tortillas, and, of course, plenty of liquor. Good times!

Time to get back up on the wagon.

December 13 – Action. When it comes to aspirations, it’s not about ideas. It’s about making ideas happen. What’s your next step?

This is the big one, isn't it? That was rhetorical because, of course it is! It's so easy to talk the talk, but walking the walk is another thing entirely. I'm gonna walk it good, baby! Walk what? The book. What else?

I'm not exactly sure yet how it's all going to go down, but 2011 is the year in which I'm going to start moving ahead on the publication front. I'm putting To Kill the Goddess out there one way or another. My plan is to start with the traditional old-school publishers and see what kind of response I get. Clearly, that's the easy way to go. No, easy isn’t the word I'm looking for. Safe. It's the safe way to go. We all know how that process works.

For those aren't familiar:
1.    query an agent
2.    wait
3.    pray

I think in my case there is going to be a lot of praying. I think my book kicks ass, but like this years Christmas, To Kill the Goddess is non-trad. At its core it's high fantasy, but there's also a healthy dose of suspense thriller, sci-fi, and horror. Add in the multiple point of view storyline, an adult / non-YA target audience, and a complete lack of vampires and, well, you can see how it might be a hard sell. It's going to take someone with vision and while I truly believe there are agents who have the vision to see what I'm trying to accomplish those agents still need to sell my book to an old-school publishing house that is typically more interested in the easy/safe sell than they are taking a chance on something unique.

Add all that together and I think the best I can hope for is a mid-list commitment which translates to selling my book for peanuts and if that's the case then I'm going to take the option behind door two, which is self publication.

Stay tuned to The Scribblerati and see how it goes!

#reverb10 – The Catch-up Post! (Shawn's 9-12)

I’m a wee bit behind.

It all started with Friday. Hey, it was Friday people, and Friday means beer, not blogs. Plus, Claudia posted and I was having fun arguing with Mark about Lucifer. Yah, THAT Lucifer.

Then, there was the snowstorm, or #snownami as it’s called on Twitter. 17 inches or so in these parts. Let’s just say I had a lot of quality time with my snowblower.

But I can’t blame it all on #snownami. There was also a lot of fun. Baking cookies with the lovely @mplstravelkitty and devouring a delicious slow cooked pork roast were among the highlights.

Now it’s Monday – back on the horse and all that.

Let’s get cracking!

December 9 – Party. What social gathering rocked your socks off in 2010? Describe the people, music, food, drink, clothes, shenanigans.

I know this is going to be a huge surprise to those who know me, but I’m not big into the party scene. For me, my favorite social gatherings are small, intimate affairs with friends and/or family.

My favorite times are when it’s just the lovely @mplstravelkitty and I. I’m thinking summer. A trip to the farmer’s market and then grilling, throwing together a spread of veggies, grabbing a bottle of wine, and enjoying it all on our deck.

Sorry, a gentleman doesn’t give details about shenanigans.

December 11 – 11 Things. What are 11 things your life doesn’t need in 2011? How will you go about eliminating them? How will getting rid of these 11 things change your life?

OK, seriously? 11 things?  11?!?

I don't have all year, you know...

PS  Yes, I know I skipped #10! Wait for it!

December 12 – Body Integration. This year, when did you feel the most integrated with your body? Did you have a moment where there wasn’t mind and body, but simply a cohesive YOU, alive and present?

Oh, this one is easy. Almost every time I go to yoga.

December 10 – Wisdom. Wisdom. What was the wisest decision you made this year, and how did it play out?

I saved this one for last because it’s actually related to writing – shocker!

(To be fair, the Scribblerati will probably remember that I half made this decision in late 2009, but it wasn’t until this year that I actually went full in.)

The wisest decision I made this year was to rewrite my book. From scratch.

You see, naive me had this notion that I wanted to write my book a certain way. I wanted to write a fantasy loosely based on the same event timeline as 9/11, a timeline where the characters didn’t understand what was happening or what the stakes were until the big event at the end of the book. So I did. I did it perfectly. So perfectly, in fact, that not even the Scribblerati understood.

FAIL.

So, I took their comments and reactions in stride and reassessed. I knew I couldn’t change the major plot arc, not and still be true to the story I wanted to tell, but I could tell the story in a different way. I could still have the same loose 9/11 concept, but this time I would need to make sure the reader understood what was at stake and what the consequences were, even if my characters didn’t.

As a result, I’ve changed a ton of things. Some characters are gone completely while other have been introduced. As for their arcs, they all start and end in the same place, but the way they get there is almost entirely different. All told, I’ve kept maybe 10-15% of what I had in the previous draft. The rest is entirely new.

People, especially writers, tend to look at me with a wide-eyed ‘you did what?’ reaction when I tell them I did this, but truthfully, it was liberating. It’s also been a lot of fun because this time I know I’m doing it right and comments from the Scribblerati – so far – have been largely positive.

The last 1/3 of my book is just starting to work it’s way through the Scribblerati right now. My fingers are crossed!

Happy Solstice!

May your days be long, sunny, and full of writing success!

One Wedding 4 POVs

One Wedding 4 POVs

Here are four special blog entries in honor of Jon & Ela’s recent marriage. May it be filled with joy, fantasy and only the right amount of zombies.

Mark, Claudia, Shawn & Lisa

From the Journal of Beryl Kodiak:

Who knows what these Insiders will think of next.

It's not good enough for them to squat in the woods like everyone else does. Nope, they gotta make a fuss about toilets and toilet paper and air freshener.

And it's not good enough for them to root about for grubs and acorns and roots like most everyone else, or to take the rabbit raw in your munching jaws. Instead, they've got to braise and steam and bake and blanch and dress and marinade and roast and grill and, well, you get my meaning, right?

And it's not good enough for them to sit on the fair green ground on the sweet sighing trees. They've gotta build fantastical castles with ornate desks and credenzas and patios for to suck their fire sticks on. They lose their fur and then they need fireplaces and shawls and wraps and neck strings and pink and blue pocket hankies and I'm not even gonna mention the shoes...

Nope. All of that would be odd enough, but listen: going into heat and making babies out in the open air apparently isn't good enough for them either. They gotta get the whole community to agree. And they gotta do it inside. And they gotta talk and talk and talk about it. It's called a Wedding.

Bat Scat. They are Weird! I'll never figure them out. Not if I live four lives, I won't.

But you wanna know what the Best Thing was?

The Best Thing Ever?

I'll just say this, if anyone ever invites you to a gathering where there will be a Cupcake Tree,

no matter how Insiderly that person might be? Do not think. Do not ponder. Just say YES!

I ate the whole thing. Every single one of those scatting cupcakes. My Dirt Clod, were they good.

I'm not sure what all happened after that, coz just as I was finishing licking the frosting off my nose, they ran me out of the place.

No matter, my tummy was nice and round.

(By Lisa Bergin)

Ela & Jon’s Wedding as reported by Tea Leaf

Airelai crossed over to the window, pushed the panes open, and looked out onto a cobblestone plaza filled with busy people passing between the sea of four and five story buildings that spread out in all directions. She placed her thin, elvish arms onto the sill and leaned out far enough for a puff of wind to catch her silver white hair and blow it across her dark oval shaped eyes. It was one of those perfect, pre-Darktime days where the Father's stark, blue white rays hammered down past the Mother's giant auburn crescent and promised of the cold that was soon to come.

A familiar buzz rushed past her head and she smiled in response. “Tea leaf?”

“Hi, Air!” a tiny, high-pitched voice said from somewhere above her. The buzz raced down to an abrupt stop and Airelai blinked at the tiny fairie’s sudden appearance. Tea Leaf's miniature, elflike body was no taller than the length of a human hand but her silver, dragonfly like wings stretched twice again that distance. She hovered in the air with an effortless grace.

Airelai smiled as she asked, “Where have you been, Tea Leaf?”

“Wedding,” Tea Leaf replied with a nonchalant kick of her legs.

Airelai asked, “Whose wedding?”

“Jon and Ela.”

“I don't know them, do I?”

Tea leaf shook her tiny head. “Me think not.”

“How do you know them?”

“Me not know Ella much, but Jon my critiquer!”

“Critiquer.” Airelai mused over the word. “Is that some strange human thing I haven't learned of yet?”

Tea leaf crossed her twig like arms over her chest. “Me not tell. Faerie secret.”

“Fine,” Airelai said with a smile. “Tell me about this wedding.”

Tea leaf threw open her arms and pirouetted in the air as she said, “Wedding beautiful! Ella dress like snow on illiana leaves.”

“Sounds pretty. What about Jon?”

“Nice uniform,” Tea Leaf said as she puffed out her chest. “Big smile. Jon tell funny stories about working in store. Ella is smelly and fits in his arm.”

Airelai was aghast. “Tea leaf! That's not nice!”

“What not nice?”

“You just said the bride was smelly.”

“Jon said it good smell.” Her brow furrowed as she said, “Like breakfast maybe. Me not remember.” She brightened suddenly, adding, “Jon big fan of Captain America! You know Captain America?”

“I know a Captain Hengest,” Airelai said thoughtfully.

Tea leaf shook her head. “Not same Captain.”

Airelai said, “Tell me more, Tea Leaf. Were there many guests?”

“Many!”

“And how did they look?”

“Amazing! Specially back corner table.” Her tiny cheeks blushed red as she added, “Boys very pretty.”

Airelai grinned as she asked, “Don't you mean handsome?”

“That too!”

“And the ladies?”

“Beautiful!” Tea Leaf said with an enthusiastic sigh.

“Was there food?”

“Oh, yes!” The little faerie began to buzz about as she said, “Wines and fishes and vegetable and cow but best part-”

Airelai interrupted, “What is cow?”

Tea leaf was crestfallen. “You not want hear best part?”

“I do, but what is cow?”

Tea leaf wrinkled her nose. “Big stinky thing. Much drool.” Her face lit with excitement as she asked, “Now tell best part?”

“Yes. Now you can tell me the best part.”

Tea leaf threw her arms wide as she shouted, “Giant cake cup tree!”

“Cake cups?”

Tea Leaf dreamily hugged her arms to her chest as she said, “Giant cups of soft with sweet on top! Me never got to soft. Got full eating way through sweet!”

Airelai laughed. “It sounds like you had a good time.”

“Me did,” Tea Leaf said with a self-satisfied nod. “Me think Jon and Ela make a good team.”

“I'm glad,” Airelai said with a warm smile for both her little friend and the newly wedded couple.

Tea Leaf returned her smile, bent forward in a quick, little bow, then began to drift away.

Airelai asked, “Leaving already, Tea Leaf?”

“Sorry. Me can't stop. Belly full of sweet!”

“Get out of here then,” Airelai said, laughing. “Go work it off.” She turned from the window, shaking her head. Tea leaf was always having one crazy adventure or another.

“Seamus?” She called.

“Yes, darling?” A rich, human voice answered from the next room.

“Do you know a Captain America?”

(By Shawn Enderlin)

The Right Choice

It happened right after they cut the cake. Ela and Jon were about to return to their sweetheart table to enjoy their first marriage slice, when someone stepped on Ela’s train.

“Dude, you’re stepping on my dress,” she said, and turned.

It was a zombie: the vanguard of the horde yet to come. How it’d gotten in wasn’t discovered until much later, after all the bodies were burned and the married couple had enjoyed their first dance. Wanting to provide salmon as a fourth dinner option for their guests, Jon and Ela had needed to cut corners somewhere, and unfortunately hired what turned out to be a sub-par zombie guard unit. Some guy named Zeke, who’d been stationed at the loading dock, had apparently set down his rifle in order to light up a smoke. It was the last thing he ever did.

“Shit,” said Ela, and in one smooth movement, she dropped her dessert plate, grabbed the cake knife with both hands, spun gracefully in her dress and lopped off the vile thing’s head.

“See,” said Jon, who hadn’t moved throughout the entire exchange, and in fact still maintained his grip on his cake plate, “I told you the jumbo knife was the right choice.”

(By Claudia Hankin)

Wedding Crasher

There is no time for this, her angels whispered to Noel.

She ignored them. She couldn’t resist.

She had seen the ladies in their elegant bridesmaid’s dresses on the balcony as she cut through the Minneapolis park. The men in their black tuxedos. A wedding party. She entered the building with the sign “The Woman’s Club of Minneapolis” through a back entrance. The lower levels were silent and decorated in ivory paint and old paintings, the curtains around the tall windows reminding her of French vanilla frosting on a celebratory cake. Etta James’ “At Last” rose and swelled upstairs, the sound filtering down the empty wooden staircase and she followed it.

She snuck through the vacant dining hall where just moments ago people had dined on sumptuous salmon in a dill béarnaise sauce and steaks the size of her foot. Her stomach growled. She hadn’t eaten all day. She noted a lone white frosted cupcake with a trio of raspberries on it, the last dessert in the otherwise empty cupcake tree. She cupped it in her hands and stood at the back of the group of partiers, their backs all to her, focused solely on the bride and groom as they held each other on the dance floor, the bass of the music thrumming along.

“The first dance,” she said to herself and felt giddy, felt for a moment like a normal sixteen-year-old girl. She squeezed next to a clutch of women in their 20s and 30s all gathered in the doorway watching the couple. They looked at her briefly and smiled in amusement, then returned their attention to the dancers. Noel had to look out of place in the crowd of gaily-dressed couples, her black and red hair askew, her t-shirt and short black skirt still damp from the rain earlier this afternoon. She didn’t care; she leaned in closer to get a look at the new husband and wife as they danced.

They were a handsome couple as they moved around the dance floor amidst the circle of adoring friends and family. The bride had short black hair topped with a white lace ribbon, her cream-colored dress spilling around her petite frame. Gorgeous. The tuxedoed groom with his pink pocket square looked happy but focused on the rehearsed dance moves they executed beautifully together. The groom was also dark-haired and something about the upright way he carried his shoulders as they danced made him look a bit like, well, like Superman. Strong, caring, just the sort of man she hoped she could find someday. Years from now, perhaps, when all of this was over. When she could go back and try to put together the pieces of her broken life. Oh to dream.

“…then the spell was cast. And here we are in heaven….” Etta James crooned.

Above the couple, like a million miniature shining stars that only Noel could see, amidst the glowing flame tipped bulbs in the medieval looking chandeliers hanging above the dance floor, floated the Hafaza. Guardian angels. They were drawn to times and places of great happiness. The glowing beings smiled and circled above the couple, an infinity of glowing lights. This wedding was indeed blessed.

A dark shadow passed over Noel and a deep gravelly voice whispered behind her, “Found you. Time to go.”

She didn’t bother saying anything to acknowledge Blackheart’s dark looming shape. She might get away with lingering at the back of this happy crowd of partiers, but if people noticed him it would wreck the whole celebration. Noel turned, her fleeting fantasies of marriage and future happiness dissipating. Back to the task at hand.

“Can’t blame a girl for dreaming,” she sighed, following after his tall, gloomy frame.

“The hell I can’t,” Blackheart grumbled. “We got places to go, demons to kill.”

She paused for just a moment and looked back, watching as the bride and groom ended their first dance in an embrace and a kiss and the applause of their loved ones. For just a moment longer she dreamed she was the bride, there on the dance floor. One day.

Then she turned back into the darkness of the summer evening, following after Blackheart. Getting into his Firebird she took a bite of the delectable cupcake. To her it tasted like true love.

(By Mark Teats)