Literary rating: ★★
Kick-butt quotient: ☆☆☆
What I’ll remember about this one is the arc. Not so much of any character, more as to whether or not this would qualify for the site. The story began on solid enough ground, but around the end of the first volume (this omnibus contains parts 1+2), it plummeted well below the threshold needed. I almost gave up reading at that point, but persisted, and the book did rebound with an extended, gory finale in which the heroine and her ally took on what felt like an entire city. Okay, it’s back in. But I’m not happy about it, for reasons I’ll get to in a bit.
The focus here is Tratalja, a city-state which rules over a wide swathe of countryside. In this world, writing is comparable to magic, and those who practice it without royal authority are subject to summary execution. This takes place at the hands of the Sceyrah, the enforcers of the ruling religion. In training to become one of them is fourteen-year-old Lilija, whose fighting skills, demonstrated in arena exhibitions, have caused her to become popular with the inhabitants – a cause of concern to her masters.
When a tribe of barbarians, the Blood-Eaters, under their young leader Ari, sack the city, Lilija becomes the scapegoat, and narrowly escapes execution, fleeing the city to join forces with Ari. But their meeting… well, let’s just say it doesn’t go well. It was at this point I thought it was done, in terms of review purposes here. However, a new heroine arose thereafter, one possibly even more highly-skilled than Lilija, and she does manage to team up with Ari. Together, they face the threat of a high priest possessed by an evil god, with an unquenchable taste for human sacrifice. It gets a bit messy, though Book #2 does finish in a tidier way than #1. If I’d just had the latter, I’d have been annoyed.
Instead, however, there were still two significant problems. Firstly, the concept that certain people can have whatever they write, come true. It’s basically a massive get out of jail free card, which could be used as an excuse for sloppy writing. I don’t feel Bueckert necessarily does: however, it’s a questionable can of worms to open, especially when apparently done with few limitations. The other issue is the reduction of death, to something which is barely an inconvenience, little more than a spiritual time-out. After one character comes back – even if in a different physical form – then it’s hard for the reader to commit fully, to believing anyone else has ever ceased to be. I feel the story would have been significantly stronger, if other methods had been found to achieve the same plot results. While not devoid of positive elements, they aren’t what I’ll remember, and I don’t think I’ll be bothering with the second half of the series.
Author: Nathan Bueckert (Timothy Frame)
Publisher: Black Rose Writing. available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
1+2 of 4 in the Creators Quatrain series.


I didn’t realize until this started, it was by the director of the (non-GWG)
Sorry, couldn’t resist it. For the recent string of suboptimal Netflix movies continues with this tedious bit of work, which feels like the first journey across the South Californian desert filmed in real time. It begins with Ellie (Hale), a botanist carrying out a survey near the Mexican border. She meets a teenage girl, Alex (Trujillo), who is skipping school and the two have an awkward conversation. I initially thought its stilted nature was intended to tell us something about the two characters, but nope. All the conversations here are awkward. Writer-director Harris just has no ear for dialogue, which may explain why so much of this is people wandering about instead.
After the success of Bloody Mama, producer Roger Corman wanted to follow up with another film depicting lawlessness in the Depression. He found his source material in Sister of the Road, supposedly the autobiography of a thirties drifter called Boxcar Bertha. No such one person actually existed: it was assembled by the author, Dr. Ben L. Reitman, from multiple characters he met while helping women in trouble in Chicago (a fictionalized version of the doctor may appear in the movie). Corman hired the then almost unknown Martin Scorsese, who was directing his first commercial film; its predecessor, Who’s That Knocking at My Door, grossed only $16,085. Scorsese was given a schedule of 24 days and a budget of $600,000.
I am contractually obliged to appreciate at least somewhat, any film made here in Arizona. This certainly fits the bill, having been shot at places like the Pioneer Living History Museum, Sitgreaves National Forest and Winters Film Group Studio. However, it is a fairly basic tale of two-pronged revenge, with significant pacing issues. The proceedings only come to life in the last 20 minutes – and barely that. Initially, matters are more than a tad confusing, as we jump about in time and space without apparent notification. But the basic principal is eventually established.
Ah, the things I watch for you people. Safe to say, this probably hit new heights of “I am not the target demographic”, but it’s hard to argue it is outside the remit of the site. To the film’s credit, this is not as bad as I feared it might be. If I had an eight-year-old daughter – such a shame this turned up about 25 years too late! – there would be far worse things to have inflicted on me. Not that I’ll exactly be chasing down any of the other
I guess, at its heart, this is the story of two mothers. There’s Jo (Campbell-Hughes), an anaesthetist who has been struck off the medical register, for reasons that are left murky. She’s now practicing her healing arts on the underground market, from patching up dubious stabbing victims, to carrying out unlicensed abortions. Jo lost her daughter to meningitis, and has split from her husband. Then there’s Bernadette (Brady), a wealthy but no less murky character. Her daughter is dying, and in desperate need of a transplant. To that end, Bernadette has kidnapped a young woman, Aine (McNulty), with the intention of using her as an unwilling organ donor, and needs Jo’s help for the operation. But when Aine – who would be about the age of Jo’s daughter had she lived – escapes and hides in the back of the physician’s car, Jo is left with a series of difficult decisions.
On her way home one night, Betsy (Ryan) is attacked by a mystery assailant and badly injured. While she recovers, she’s traumatized by the events, with nightmares that even her attendance at a support group can’t help. She is also increasingly plagued by violent outbursts against her supportive but increasingly concerned roommate Kayte (Osborne), and physical changes. If you are at all familiar with horror movies, you’ll know the symptoms: Betsy’s attacker was a werewolf, and she’s now in the process of becoming one. This throws a spanner in her growing relationship with Sam (Miller), made worse because he’s a policeman, investigating the recent spate of “animal attack” murders around town.
I’ve enjoyed most of the recent Norwegian entries in the “disaster porn” genre. Films with titles like The Wave and The Quake, have delivered all the mayhem you could want, while doing a better job of characterization than their Hollywood equivalents. This is the first with a heroine, and provides a similarly slick mix of spectacle and emotion. The central character is Sofia (Thorp), an engineer for an undersea robotics company. When working on a sunken oil rig in the North Sea, she finds evidence indicating a massive geological slip is about to occur. Eventually convincing the authorities to take it seriously, they evacuate the area. Before that can be completed, the disaster occurs, and her husband, Stian (Bjelland) is trapped on a sinking platform.
This takes place in early 15th century China, when Zhu Di (Zhang) had taken over the throne from his nephew, Wen Du (also played by Zhang), forcing the latter to go into hiding. Zhu is protected by his all-female Imperial Guard, under the leadership of Qing Lian (Xu). Actually, all seven of them have the surname Qing, which confused the heck out of me at first. But it actually makes sense, as they were taken in as babies, and brought up for the express purpose of protecting Zhu Di. Anyway, he gets word that Wen is to be found in a house of ill-repute, and send the Qings after him. Lian is injured in the raid, but her life is saved by Li Gexiao. When she returns to Zhu, however, he’s having none of it and orders her to kill Li, knowing he is actually the dethroned Emperor Wen. Lian opts not to carry out the emperor’s orders, and so the remaining Imperial Guard sisters are sent out by Zhu, to make her pay for her disloyalty.