Black Magic Woman by Christine Warren

 

Daphanie Carter is thrilled that her sister Danice finally found her Prince Charming – even though he’s not quite, well, human.  Daphanie is trying to keep an open mind.  Which is why she jumps at the chance to enter the hidden world of The Others when a friendly imp invits her to a non-human nightclub.  Daphanie’s curious to see how the Other half lives –and parties-  but soon, one handsome stranger has her bewitched, bothered and beside herself.

 Enter Asher Grayson.  As a Guardian, its his job to protect humans who get mixed up in the affairs of Others.  When he spots Daphanie in a club, going head to head with a notorious witch doctor, he steps in to cool things off.  Now the heat is on.  Daphanie becomes the target of strange magical attacks, and Asher’s got to undo the voo-doo before it’s too, too, late.  But soon he starts to wonder if this beautiful, beguiling mortal has put a spell on him – because every little thing she does is magic…

 

Lets start off by saying that I really do love Christine Warren’s books.  There’s a note from the author at the start of the book explaining that in the beginning there was only ever going to be five books (there are at least fifteen, at this point) and that’s why the order of things gets mixed around and some facts may or may not add up.  But that’s not the problem I have with this book.  I don’t know about anyone else, but I find the unusual spelling of a character – any character’s – name to be highly distracting.  Daphanie, for example makes me want to call her Daff-ah-knee.  Or maybe just Daffy, which is somewhat appropriate considering her behaviour in the first few chapters of the book. 

Now, I get it, I really do, that when facing the prospect of being in-laws to someone who is not precisely human – not only that, but suddenly discovering that there are far more things in this world that can no longer be scoffed at and called ‘myth’. That, right there, is perfectly understandable.  But given that her sister, just got married to a changeling, you would think that maybe, just maybe, she would ask her sister if she had a question about Other society and how to behave, right? 

WRONG. 

At her sister’s wedding reception no less, she catches this little imp who literally looks like a small devil, surmises that he is there under false pretences and proceeds to interrogate him.  The upshot is that he takes her along to a place called ‘Lurk’ (and if the red skinned imp wasn’t a giveaway, the name of this club should have set off a few alarm bells certainly).  Did I mention that she snuck out of the reception for this guy?  I dunno, I’d be cranky if my sister snuck out of my wedding reception for any reason not approaching Chernobyl on a scale of one to catastrophic. 

Now, given that she is now in a frankly dodgy club in an area of town that she shouldn’t be in, in a club she has no business being at, with a  being she should not under any circumstances have trusted – I would have ordinarily pegged her lifespan to last approximately 3.8 seconds under the circumstances.  But given that this is a romance novel, she has the rest of the book to stun us with her dreadfully optimistic (stupid) choices.   

This Asher guy now, he seems to have his head on straight.  He’s just chilling at the bar, relaxing after a hard day’s work, and in walks this sheila with wide touristy eyes (she should know better, as the book explains several times, since she’s from Brooklyn and all).  Naturally she gets into trouble, and he has to step in.  Admittedly, it’s not her fault.  Given the same situation, and being called the same names by an obnoxious person is not going to make me react much differently to Daphanie.  Then again, if I was confronted by some guy in a seedy bar that caters exclusively to people of a … let’s say special nature, I’d like to think that I would have the damned sense to keep my mouth shut.  Especially when a huge guy with wings steps in and essentially rescues my butt. 

After all that mess gets sorted out (sort of) we get to see that Daphanie is not some hot tempered ignoramus with the survival instincts of a suicidal lemming, she’s a hot tempered, highly creative and wandering world traveller.  And she’s a blacksmith.  This is something I. Just.  Love.  A blacksmith?  How wicked is that?  Of course, by the time we get to see her in action, things have progressed to “Holy crab cakes Batman!” and she just gets the coals of her forge heated up when the manure hits the windmill.

 

I won’t go into details, but with doppelgangers, bad voodoo, zombies, secret plots to take over the world .. it’s another Tuesday in the world of the Others.  Once Daphanie starts using her head and Asher stops using his naughty parts, and they both start to think – we’re in business. 

 

Never Ending Story In The Batcave: Part Two of Operation Pink Petticoat

 Well, being laid up like this means that I get to watch all the crappy Halloween style movies and shows.  Being Australian we, as a family, don’t actually celebrate Halloween, but it’s still heaps of fun.  Having said that, I’m a bit wierded out by the Never Ending Story II – it was my favourite movie as a kid.  Only now, with age and experience, it’s seriously the creepiest movie I’ve ever seen.  It beats out Candyman (seen age twelve) The Crush (age 13) and Iron Sky (last week).  Hell, it even beats out Annie (predatory overtones in the chase scene) and a tie between Dot And The Kangaroo/The Camel Boy (child slavery, animal abuse, human rights violations, harsh early settler conditions etc, etc...)

 

 

The eighties were not gentle with kids were they?  I think, or suspect that is where I may have learned my compassion.  The movies whacked you upside the head with symbolism, but you sure as hell learned a walloping dose of compassion.  And omigod, that theme song! Catchy, poptastic, positive and totally adorkable!

Someone get going on making me a Giant Flying Dog.  Now.

I never really realised how much writers of the time were semi-sensitive to the native cultures.  In the Never Ending Story, I never realised that the writers borrowed rather heavily from Native American culture.  As a child I had zero concept of race, colour or creed.  I didn’t care much for Bastien, whom I thought remarkable stoopid, and adored Atreyu. Although that as mostly for his ride, admittedly.   ;]

But now, I understand that fairy-tale stories and an amazing sense of adventure were woven together with a multicultural cast and recognition of their respective cultures without a single trace of irony.  They still are the secondary characters in a mostly white cast, but it’s such a strong story that I don’t actually care.  Yeah, you heard me.  I.  Don’t. Care. About. The. Kitsch.

Got a problem with that?

And that’s where I think we went wrong.

Say what now?

Somewhere along the line we got bogged down in reality.  Movies, theatre, film and television need to take a page out of the Never Ending Story book and base you in reality only.  It’s all well and good to bring realism to your writing – so long as you do it with passion.  And THAT’s where we’re going.  Not to sound like a conspiracy theorist, but the corporations are only interested in making safe money.  They don’t want to risk losing their precious millions for the theoretical billions that are possible if they merely cater to the market they aim at. 

 

 

 

Even this kid looks bored with the latest Superman reboot.

 

Seriously?  What is it going to take to get us our DC heroine movie?  It’s not like they don’t have material to work with here?  This is the next stage of #OperationPinkPetticoat in case you’re wondering.  If they need a pitch for a super heroine movie that’ll knock their socks off, I got about twenty seven at this point.  I find interesting people fascinating and comic book writers treat their characters with the respect they deserve. It’s the artists that let us all down. 

 

 

Remember these guys?

 

 

 .........

 

Oh, and these little known characters…

 

 

 

 ........

Not to forget…

Oops.

 

And of course…

I sense a few origin stories in the force. 

Oh, and let’s not forget that little campaign called, the …Hawkeye Initiative? I’m sure you’ve never even heard of it.

Let’s get this thing started.  Let’s get some diversity on the screen.  The new series of the Agents of Shield and Arrow are pretty good – but they're only nearly there.  With ensemble casts you get the chance to play with different nationalities and cultures. I love it when writers play with a ‘What If’ scenario.  This is why I love Tony Stark’s character so much.  He’s completely unfiltered.  To quote Anthony Hopkins, he’s not crazy, poor people are crazy.  Tony is eccentric! And I have to admit, that with this stupid infection in my leg (for the last time, I’m Fine!) it’s making me approach Stark Industries level of intelligence.  Bit manic, complete with intervention and everything.  It’s been fun.  I’m seriously considering how to build my own suit.

I’m not even joking.

Bring it!

 

So that’s the catalyst for Operation Pink Petticoat. 

Many thanks to TheMarySue and Batman And His Bitches for the source material! Cheers!

Operation Pink Petticoat Part One

Operation Pink Petticoat Part One – The Germ Of An Idea

This post is going to be quick fast and dirty – try not to get any stains on the carpet.

 

 

I hope he has a jock strap for the balls he must be wearing...

 

 

By now my campaign has been given a boot up the arse and it’s on it’s first shaking but firm steps.  For those of you who don’t already know, or would like to know what on Middle Earth is hashtag-Operation-Pink-Petticoat, I’ll give you a short and then an epic version of my road to one sparkling, brilliant idea.