Disney-Pixar films are something that I always anticipate highly, with the first trailers a year or more in advance showing great promise and inspiring speculation; and most of them live up to the gradual hype that surrounds them. I’ve seen every one in the cinema – no waiting apathetically for the DVD release here. So, when I went to see Wall-E with my sister and the teaser for Up was played, we both knew we couldn’t wait to see it. Her first visit to Portsmouth last weekend was a perfect opportunity to hit the cinema, pig out on popcorn, and see what all the fuss was about.
And I liked it. It was hilarious. But it didn’t quite meet my expectations. Firstly, it failed to inspire me visually as much as, for example, Cars or Wall-E had done in the past. Granted, it was the first time I’d seen it so I was focussing on the story, but the characters were blocky and awkwardly designed and the backgrounds were bog standard. The animation is clever, detailed and pretty, but it’s very obviously a cartoon, and it’s not stunning – at least not on the surface to the untrained eye. Pixar can do better, and I don’t know why they didn’t.
To read the rest of this review, go to Unbored!
Yes, that’s right, I am *that* person. I am writing this blog on my BlackBerry as I sit on the bus.
I just thought I’d fill you all in on what’s been happening in Laura Land. I have, as ever, been neglecting this blog for the sake of other projects. Well, that is to say, at least this week I have been. Last week it was neglect for the sake of a holiday in sunny Norfolk!
Which was lovely – I had a really good time with Adam’s family (ha, no, not that one…), and I enjoyed the relaxation and scenery. We stayed in a cosy cabin (with all mod cons, of course) in the woods overlooking Fritton Lake and did all the Enid Blyton-y things like pitch-and-putt golf and fish and chips by the sea. The really good news is, because his parents decided to purchase a cabin of their very own, I get to go back in August!
So, nicely relaxed, I made it back in time for a manic week! On Monday, I started my new job, temping three days a week for the Council. Tuesday was supposed to be a day off to do all the things I had to do, like answering emails and laundry, but I felt ill so didn’t actually end up getting much done. On Wednesday morning I had an interview for a more permanant position at a publishing house in Chichester; I am awaiting news of that one, rather nervously because I know I would absolutely adore the job! In the meantime I went back to my temp work today, and am now catching up on one more thing – updating my blog – on the way home. Whew!
Anyways, there’s my stop! Catch you later!
…Well, you can’t!
That’s all I wrote folks. Other things came along and I just never got around to finishing it.
I know what happens next, in my head, but I do still need to work a few details out before I would be happy committing the rest of the story to paper. If you really care, or have ideas of your own, do drop me a line! Thanks for reading!
“All I am saying is that we’ve been here four seasons now, and we still haven’t seen any real action! I’m tired of patrolling up and down for no reason, back and forth, here and there…the monotony is killing me!”
Heidi, Arnica and I sighed; we’d heard this rant of Lynum’s before. The hall where the leverets and officers took their meals was full of hungry hares breaking their fast. Lynum and I were gearing up to go on another costal patrol duty.
“I mean-”Lynum continued, waving an oatmeal laden bowl around. Beside him, Heidi started to mimic his actions over-comically, dodging splats of oatmeal as she did so. Arnica and I tried to hide our giggles as she gestured and made funny faces. Lynum seemed not to notice. This state of affairs continued for some time. (more…)
That was my first encounter with Salamandastron hares, and lead to my entry into the recruits programme a bit later on. Within four seasons I was fully trained and had done enough field work with the Long Patrol to become an Honourable Lieutenant. I was now living permanently in quarters at the mountain, but still saw Mitzi and Eepee from time to time since they lived close. Their household had changed dramatically in the course of four seasons, losing one load of orphans and gaining another. Shortly after my departure, Yan had taken to wandering, going further and further each day. Then, one day, the mole brother and sister came home to find all his things gone and a note saying that he wasn’t going to be back for some time. No beast knew where he had gone or has heard from him since. I often wonder about him; where did he go, and indeed, where had come from in the first place? (more…)
His name was Lynum. After apologising profusely for running into me, he built a fire so we could both dry off, and also started rummaging about in his haversack for anything still edible after its dip in the sea. Food is a wonderful peace offering. I was soon laughing about the whole thing and chatting away as if I’d known him for years.
I told him a tailored version of my story, simply saying that my parents had died when I was young and the moles had adopted me. He seemed keen to meet Patrice and Yan, who I had totally forgiven by now, of course. I promised to introduce them if he came by the burrow sometime.
Time passed. He told me he was a Salamandastron runner in training. His father had been a colonel and a lot of his family had been in the service. He talked of his sister, Saithe, who was a healer and his bold brother Captain Tammo. I found it all fascinating. (more…)
When I was sixteen seasons old, and I had lived with the mole family longer than I had my actual parents, my life changed once again. This time however, the change was positive.
I had reached that stage where I couldn’t seem to go for five minutes without having an argument with someone. No matter what I said or did, someone found offence in it and would take it personally. Equally, they only had to make a comment in the wrong tone of voice and I’d explode in their face. Patrice, Yan and I, normally such good friends, seemed to constantly be angry with one another, or irritable or upset. Mitzi and Eepee had been half driven out of their minds by our fighting. Their once peaceful burrow had been transformed into a battleground as three young individuals tested the water of adulthood. (more…)
And so it was that I came to live with the mole siblings Mitzi and Eepee. To make a long story short, they soon put two and two together with my disjointed story over biscuits and the decimated camp that Eepee had passed on his way home. They very kindly offered that I come and stay with them. I had no other options, and the biscuits were nice so I agreed.
Mitzi was a kind soul, really a wonderful beast. She was continually happy and it wasn’t uncommon to hear her singing as she went about her work. A neat freak, she cleaned the burrow everyday from top to bottom and she was also a wonderful carer, making sure that everyone had clothes that fit and weren’t torn, keeping the place warm and, most of all, seeing that we were well fed. Redwall’s cuisine may be revered the length and breadth of the land, but I would trade any dish from there for just one of Mitzi’s plum cakes, or her turnip ‘n’ tater ‘n’ beetroot pies. I suppose being raised by moles helped, but I came to love that recipe as much as any of them. (more…)
Mother did the only thing she could, grabbed my sister and I and shoved us into the relative safety of a nearby hedge while pandemonium ruled around us. The three of us then watched with horror as our entire family was slaughtered. The gang of bandits ate our feast, made use of our den and destroyed the whole place. The weasel that Mother had hit on the head revived and joined in the fun. I watched, my hatred for him growing as he finished off in just a few mouthfuls all the strawberry flans we had so lovingly baked.
We didn’t run; I don’t know why. I guess my mother was frozen with fear, or didn’t want to abandon her home, or was waiting to be rescued. So we crouched in that hedge, all day, and just watched. By the time night fell, it was very clear to us that help – my father – was not coming. We saw the scouts returning with news of our male relatives, dead, all of them. Mother and Arbara cried silently, but I was young and didn’t understand the full implications of what I was hearing. (more…)
Well guys, I have a bit of a treat for you this week. I have decided to share some of my earlier attempts at writing with my loyal readers here.
Whenever they do interviews with writers, they always ask them when and how they started writing. Usually the answer is that they wrote a play for their dolls when they were a child, or entered a short story competition. In my case, the first original story that I ever wrote all off my own back was about a young girl hunting with a Saluki dog in Arabia. But the first thing that I ever sat down and properly produced was Redwall FanFic entitled, imaginatively, Lupwa’s Story. (more…)
