I know I haven’t been updating much lately. Forgive me peeps – I’ve been a bit too busy living life at the moment to write about it. There’s oodles going on, swirling round in my head right now, but I’m afraid it’s the kind of swirly-stuff I have to deal with/live through before I’ll be comfortable writing about it. Plus, people keep forcing me to socialise, which is really putting a dent in my writing time!

I’m just giving y’all a quick update to let you know I am alive and thinking of you. And to inform you that I’m deserting you once more! I’m off to an archaeology conference and am getting back at silly o’clock on Sunday morning. I might be in a Roast-able mood, I might not! The dear and fluffy lord alone knows what I’m going to find to talk about to people all weekend, as I haven’t done a scrap of archaeology in years, but I’m a “Doyenne” of the Internet now (according to the godhead, and he should know), so I’m sure it will be fun for all concerned 🙂

I expect when I get back I’ll be 1) ever so slightly hungover and 2) buzzing with lots of exciting ideas from sitting down and drinking talking to lots of intelligent people all weekend, so expect some nice posts when I return!

Toodles 🙂 (And, if it is working, keep an eye on Twitter for random instances I feel like sharing!)

It’s not often you can say you’re reading a book because of a conversation you had with your brother over Christmas about how you would survive the Zombie Apocalypse. (If you’re curious, we decided that for long term survival a katana would be the weapon of choice). I was making the argument that why would you want to be the last human on earth? Pulling in themes from I am Legend (the book), I argued that I saw no point in fighting for the remnants of humanity when, even if a handful were to survive for a short period, ultimately in a pandemic of zombieism, the monsters would win and become the norm. Surely, I said, the worst thing about becoming a zombie was loosing all sense of self afterward? A zombie with a brain now…

Brother Dearest mentioned a book he half remembered. I googled “zombie retain consciousness” and got to Monster Island:

The Book:
Monster Island by David Wellington

The Facts:
Pages: 378 (paperback)
ISBN: 978-1905005475
Published: 1 May 2007
Price: £7.99
Publisher: Snowbooks

The Blurb:
As the shambling zombie masses cover the globe, advanced nations quickly succumb to the feeding frenzy. Complacent first-world citizens are no match for the mindless, fearless undead. Civilization’s only hope rests in war zones like Somalia, where fighting for survival is the norm.

From this quarter emerges an unlikely group of heroes. A small army of girl warriors are crossing the world to find the supplies necessary for their survival. They are guided by Dekalb, a former UN inspector, chosen for his knowledge of America.

The zombie plague has taken out this once-powerful nation, and the insatiable undead now fill the streets of New York City. One amongst them is different. Though driven by the same hunger, his mind is alive, and he’s discovering the advantages this difference can bring. Dekalb will soon learn that if there’s anything more dangerous than a flesh-hungry zombie, it’s one with a plan.

The Review:
Dig a little deeper on the web and it turns out that Monster Island was first written as a serial novel in blog-format. This shows in the writing from the start, where the chapters are short, as are the sentences. The action starts from the first page, as the Statue of Liberty looms through the fog, and it continues pretty much unabated till the final page. It’s clearly written to be read on the web and on the screen, grabbing your attention and never straying too far from the styalistic path. It would be rather two-faced of me, a blogger, to take issue with this style, so I’m not going to take issue with it.

Apart from the fact I don’t like how it translates to the printed page and book-form.

The book grated on me pretty quickly and kept grating upto the last page. I found the flat two POV narration irritating, with the constant flip-flopping between Dekalb and Gary jarring. All the time as I was reading and jumping from one crisis to the next I had a niggling desire in the back of my mind for more flesh on the narrative bone. Give me some characterisation, I pleaded. A plot-twist you don’t see coming from the first page. A chapter longer than seven sides – yes, I counted. The longest is the final chapter which wraps everything up, and even that’s only eight sides long. Perhaps I’m jealous? Brevity is a technique I’ve never mastered and it does have it’s place, but to me the constant flipping between narrative voices and action simply meant I never fully got into the story. It read like a modern music video: styalistic, dramatically shot and fast cut; all flashing lights and swooping camera angles, with scantily clad beauties and a thomping tune to distract you from the lack of content.

Still, I enjoyed it. I loved the concept of intelligent zombies. The most convincing section of the book was the section which detailed (all to briefly) the spiraling collapse of civilization. Moments of brilliance shone through the book and one of the main supporting cast, Ayaan the gun-toting school girl, was touchingly drawn. It kept me entertained through two hours of having my hair cut/coloured. I wanted to get to the end to find out what happened (I’d guessed correctly). I even felt a little sad that I had reached the end and that certain characters met the fate that they did.

Would I recommend Monster Island?
Probably not. It’s telling that there are two other books in the sequence (Monster Nation and Monster Planet) and that I don’t want to read either of them. It’s also telling that I’m probably not going to pick the book up again any time soon for a re-read. I don’t begrudge the money I spent on the book exactly, but looking back I’d rather have read it in it’s free form off the web.

Two mugs of tea and a biscuit – bits of the book were good and I appreciate it for the authors experimentation with the free-web/pay-print model, but on the whole I think I’ll give the zombie genre a miss for a while. Shuffling undead work on the screen but it takes a better author than Wellington to make them scary on the page.

PS: The Amazon links I’m using here affiliate links. All I get out of these reviews is the joy/horror of reading new books and sharing them with you 🙂

Ok, Birthday Fairycakes really, but the other has such a nice alliterative feel to it.

I’m following the course of action that suggests a way to a mans heart is through his stomach. If the EDLO’s reaction to the cakes is any way to judge, he’s halfway to proposing marriage already, but then are so are the rest of my team! Never have I seen 15 fairy cakes vanish so rapidly. I was going to take a picture but by the time I remembered to reach for the camera-phone, they were inhaled!

These really are insanely simple to make – just four (five if you’re feeling fancy) ingredients, half an hour, and they’re done – but are remarkably effective. The following amounts make 15 standard fairy cakes or 8 to 10 muffin-sized cakes.

Ingredients (cake)

• 100 g margarine
• 100 g caster sugar
• 100 g self raising flour
• 2 medium eggs
• 1 tsp ground ginger/cinnamon/nutmeg to taste

Ingredients (frosting)

• Approx 50 ml whipping cream
• 1 bag Maltesers (crushed)

Method

1. Cream the margarine and sugar
2. Beat in the eggs, one at a time, adding a spoonful of flour with each egg
3. Gently fold in the remaining flour and stir until smooth
4. Pour into paper cases (about halfway full as the mix will rise)
5. 190⁰ C / GM5 oven for 15 minutes (until golden and firmly spongy to the touch)

1. Whilst the cakes are cooling, whip the cream till nice and stiff
2. Crush the Maltesers and fold into the cream
3. Ice the cakes
4. Eat…

Tips
Usually I have tips/suggestions at the end of a basic recipe. Not this time; it is that straight forward. You could try playing around with flavourings (the cinnamon bit), maybe adding some cocoa powder? Or play around with the frosting some. You’re limited only by your imagination. And ability to stop from scoffing the results of your labours before they’re iced…

Not having a voice, even temporarily, is a very strange and eye opening experience. We take our voices for granted and not just for speech. We make countless vocalisations throughout our days to communicate with other people.

From something as simple as an “uh-huh” to show you’re listening to a friend whilst she shares the latest trauma of her love life, to a muffled “F***” at work when something goes wrong (eliciting soothing response from the boss), to an “Oi! You!” to get someone’s attention the other side of the room.

We use our voices a lot, so when I’m without, as I am a lot at the moment thanks to a pair of vocal cords that for some reason no longer close properly – your guess is as good as the specialist at this point – I find myself baffled at the smallest tasks.

I can’t call across the office to tell someone they’ve got a call on the other line. I can’t respond to jokes the EDLO points in my direction. I can’t give the Boss Lady the quiet reassurance she needs to function – ok, she doesn’t need it, but she does seem to function better if on occasion she gets a “of course… yes… ok…”. I can’t easily pass messages on to other people. Yes, I can email/write them out, but what about when several members of the team are severely dyslexic and avoid the written word like it’s one of the biblical plagues? And what about when I want to ask my colleague who sits opposite me a question? Emailing doesn’t always get a straight response if she’s not looking at Outlook at that second and it just seems plain silly when she is sitting close enough to poke with a biro!

Don’t get me started on trying to book a hair appointment over the phone when you’re croaking like the whole cast of the Budweiser frog advert. Or how people look at you like you’re rude for not thanking them for holding lifts etc. One of the girls I work with is in a snit with me because I didn’t say hello when she popped in. I’m not rude! I just can’t talk!

I’ve had to farm off a chunk of my job (i.e., the phones) to colleagues. Thankfully everyone is very supportive and so I can do this, but it does give you a whole different appreciation to what it would be like to not interact vocally at all. I am at the point of putting a line in my email signature to the effect of “please respond via email if possible because I have no voice”

I like talking. I could gabble for Britain if you get me started on a topic I like and I’m with people I know/feel comfortable with. Having to consciously not talk is strange. I go to say something and have to stop myself because the whole “rest your voice” order from the doctor means I have to almost ration my words.

It has its good points I will admit. I’m getting more work done because I’m not answering the phones so I don’t have that constant distraction (though I almost miss not knowing what queries are flying through the ether). It is forcing me to think about what I have to say and sort my ideas out before I make a complete arse of myself. It’s given me an excuse to not engage certain people in conversation. I will admit, there are people in my day-to-day life who gabble even worse than me. They don’t find me a good conversationalist at the moment, so leave me alone. Woot!

The bit that bugs me most though? It’s very hard to flirt convincingly when you’re croaking pathetically. Not cute pathetically either, where the response elicited is “awww, come here and have a big hug and let me look after you…” No, my croak/squeak is getting me looks of “oh dear, just shoot her and put her out of her misery…”

I am lucky. My loss of voice isn’t permanent and I still have my hearing; most people who are mute are so because of hearing impairments, but it does make me doubly aware of the fact that writing really is how I connect with the world. On the internet, everyone can hear you scream.