A Geeky Soundtrack

So what if you leave us in floods of tears? That's good television. That's great television.
Benjamin Cook, in Doctor Who: A Writer’s Tale

If there’s one thing we love, it’s a movie or show that tugs at our heartstrings, that almost begs us to love it. Of course, there are many of these pieces, and many ways to do it. But we would argue that there is one absolutely brilliant way to do it -- and that is through music. Movies or TV with marvelous, inspiring soundtracks are still not an everyday occurence, so when the brilliant ones come along, we take note. And these are ones that deserve much notice.

Doomsday by Murray Gold
In terms of number of tears shed, it’s hard to beat the series 2 finale of Doctor Who. And a good portion of that is due to Murray Gold’s stunning work here -- so simple, yet so elegant and effective. Starting with a simple piano keeping time alongside vocals perfectly accompanies the devastating moment when the Void closes, the Doctor trapped on one side and Rose on the other. You can almost see their faces pressing up against the wall that won’t let them through. The bass added provides a gorgeous segue to the time that passes for Rose, the driving, the final meeting with the Doctor on Bad Wolf Bay, and the utter heartbreak that happens there.

Song of Freedom by Murray Gold
But Murray Gold can write happy music as well. And if there's anything happier than this, well, I don't know it. The universe has been saved. All the Doctor's companions are flying the TARDIS back home with him. There are hugs, smiles, laughs, and for one moment, one shining moment, you can believe that everything will be alright, and that this show won't tear our hearts to pieces again.

F*ck you, she's awesome -- Part Two

Because our first edition was so successful, and because you can never do enough to cheer for these women.

Also, as we said in the first post--any ladies you think should be on our ever-growing list? Which other women are too awesome for words? Share with us! 

A newbie's belated review of The Avengers

I did not queue up opening weekend to see The Avengers. I saw it a few days later. And I did not read the comics, follow the rumors and blogs, or wait in anticipation at all. In fact, I wasn't sure whether I even wanted to see it. But Suzanne told me I should, so off I went.

And I'm very glad I did. And therefore, I can say, if you are like me -- if you do not read comics, if you don't always enjoy excess violence, if you think that action movies have to have a heart -- you will like this movie anyway.

The main reason? It was written by Joss Whedon. And in case that isn't reason enough for you, I'll expound: Joss does things right. I may not have seen even half the things that he's famous for, but I know that much.

And one of the things he does best is clever, whip-snapping, funny dialogue. It's practically a Whedon requirement. And here Tony Stark gets most of it, and of course delivers it brilliantly, with the requisite amount of sass and sarcasm. There are also great visual gigs -- from Grand Central station getting destroyed and no one seeming to care, to the Hulk punching Thor's hammer, to the fantastically awkward post-credits scene. Not being familiar with source material, I don't know what this movie would have been in different hands. But one thing is clear -- that when Joss came on board and grabbed the script to do an unrestrained rewrite, things got exponentially better.

C2E2 - The dream I didn't know I had

I’ve never been to a con before. Why, you ask? The big comic-cons are on the coasts, much too far away. The Harry Potter cons that I thought about going to were always during the summer. All of them are pretty expensive. I always wanted to go -- I was beyond jealous of Suzanne when she made it to the NY Comic-con this year. And yet, when the matter of going to my own comic con came, I was hesitant. I don’t read comics. Would I find anything to enjoy?

Turns out, I needn’t have worried. Three days at C2E2, Chicago Comic and Entertainment Expo, were some of the best geeky times I’ve ever had. By far the best decision was going in costume. I’d never cosplayed before, and never really dreamed I could. My sewing skills are hopeless, and neither my budget nor my ambitions are big enough to spend the months and hundreds that some people spend gathering together the perfect outfit. So it was a stroke of luck when a wonderful friend, Jorie (who made herself a fantastic Venetian Hooker Dress), offered to make a costume for me less than two weeks before the con. After an evening of brainstorming, we had an idea. A week of late nights of packing and sewing and ironing later, I had a sari.

A TARDIS sari. I rocked it. And my boyfriend rocked the Tenth Doctor suit.

And here is my advice about cons: cosplay. Because there is nothing like people asking to take your picture to make you feel confident and amazing. Over 5 hours on Friday, at least 50 people took our picture. That was before we entered the costume contest, and counting became impossible. And it was equally as enjoyable to admire the costumes that everyone else was wearing. There were plenty of Doctors (Four, Nine, Ten, Eleven), Amy Pond, Craig Owens, and a TARDIS or two (who were not as cool as I was). There was Katniss, Effie and Haymitch, a few Kaylees, a Gandalf, a Princess Tiana, and a Captain Jack Sparrow who looked exactly like Johnny Depp. And those were just the ones that I knew. Hundreds of other people were cosplaying video game and comic characters that I couldn't begin to identify.

But of course, there was way more to this than cosplay.

Why I Love Downton Abbey -- and why there's nothing wrong with that

In spite of its success, Downton Abbey has been maligned by critics on both sides of the Atlantic this year. Some of it is just criticism -- Season 2 had an awful number of poorly done plots. But much of it has been directed at this firestorm of controversy asking -- why do we love such a classist show? Isn’t it a bad thing, to be nostalgic about it? And aren’t we bad for liking it?


I can only speak from personal experience, but I will say that I did not decide to start watching the show, or start loving it, because it was glamorous. Glamor is all very shiny, but it has to have a heart and soul. And however much the cares of the characters at Downton can sometimes feel trivial, they represent something deeper that we all care about. Sure, to change clothes three times a day, to wear a tux or a custom-made dress to dinner every day seems superflous. But don’t we spend a lot of time buying our clothes or perfecting our appearances? Perhaps the Earl and Lady Grantham’s reaction into losing their half their spacious home to soldiers seems overblown -- but don’t we all value our personal space? For the Grantham ladies, fighting the entail is not trivial, it’s fighting an unjust law that regulates their future.

To answer the first question, we love it because it is, for the most part, a really good story. The cast is large, and we manage to care about them each in our own way -- to hope for Gwen’s employment, to cheer on Anna and Bates, to boo Richard Carlisle, to wish for Matthew to stop tormenting himself, to hope for Daisy’s independence, to shake our fists at Thomas’ schemes, to laugh at the Dowager Countesses’ quips.

And the Games begin

Whatever else people might say about the The Hunger Games, no one can deny that it is an extraordinarily addictive trilogy. Though Laura read it a year ago and Suzanne read them last week (very late to the party), we raced through them alarmingly quickly, both staying up far later than healthy to find out what happened next. I think it’s safe to say we haven’t read a book this quickly since Harry Potter was last released. We could write an entire post just reviewing the books themselves, but once again, Mark of Mark Reads basically shares all our opinions on everything. Essentially: we think that the trilogy has its flaws. We noticed these flaws throughout, and there were always certain bits we felt were missing or could have been fleshed out more. Did that prevent us from enjoying the books IMMENSELY? Not in the slightest.

 We definitely have Harry Potter to thank for preparing us all too well for this movie. If you look at our Lord of the Rings posts you will note our deep problems with, perhaps one would say resentment of, the Harry Potter film franchise. They are not good adaptations. They have constantly disappointed. But they did teach us one thing: Never go into a movie adaptation of a book you love with high expectations. And we didn’t, here. We had read a bunch of advance reviews saying it was a fabulous adaptation, but we weren’t going to believe it. We were excited, but kept telling ourselves not to get our hopes up.

Beauty in the Mystery: The Magic of The Night Circus

“This is not magic. This is the way the world is, only very few people take the time to stop and note it. Not a one of them even has an inkling of the things that are possible in this world, and what's worse is that none of them would listen if you attempted to enlighten them. They want to believe that magic is nothing but clever deception, because to think it real would keep them up at night, afraid of their own existence.”


I did not realize just how lacking the word magic was until lately. Until I read The Night Circus.

For here is a novel that, while written in English, seems to point out the utter failure of the language to describe all that goes on within its pages. Visitors to the Le Cirque des Rêves -- as well as followers, performers, creators -- none can really seem to describe what the circus really is. One character is called a magician, though he does no magic in the showy sense, and all his work happens from a distance. Another titles himself the Enchanter. A third is the illusionist, though her performances are far from illusions. So many of the synonyms for magic -- conjuring, sorcery, divination, witchcraft, to name a few -- seem to point out the trickery, the falseness, the suspicion of magic. Even enchantment, the most positive synonym in the thesaurus, can carry negative connotations. Magic is often misunderstood -- it is scoffed at, hated, or feared, and sometimes all three at once.

Yet in the world of fantasy, it is not only understood, but systematic. Pick your novel or series, and if magic is prominently featured, it is sure to be the domain of the protagonist. The main character discovers their abilities, and must learn to use them -- usually with the help of a school, books, or a mentor. The audience reads what they read, hears what they hear, learns what they learn, and so begins to understand the system of magic that a particular author has designed for their world.

Timey Wimey: How Fantasy Taught Me About History

I was a history major. I studied it for four years. So it’s somewhat shaming to admit that there are many things I don’t know. Not that I could ever know everything about history, because that’s just not possible. But that there are big things I didn’t know, really big things, is sort of embarrassing. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that by college, sick and tired of learning survey US History, I decided to concentrate in European history, which left me with a great understanding of Europe’s complex politics, but a lack of in-depth study on the issues that had been skated over so many times in survey classes in elementary, middle, and high school.

Individual issues are one matter. A general understanding of history is another.

Ironically enough, it was fiction that helped me understand this. To be specific, fantasy -- Tamora Pierce’s fantasy. Those of you who are Tammy fans will know that a major focus of her Tortall books is female empowerment. For those of you who haven’t... well, they all started with Alanna, who wanted to be a knight, not a lady. So she disguised herself as a boy, switched places with her brother, and went to become a page. She spent 8 years disguised as male, and her sex was only revealed shortly after she attained her knighthood. But one female knight, even a legendary one, didn’t stop all sexual discrimination in the realm. Daine, a country girl who has an unusual connection with animals, faces plenty of gender discrimination merely for not wearing skirts. Ten years later, Kel is the first woman to legally become a knight, and is faced with hazing, bullying, and even a probation year from the training master.

The Brilliant Creation That is Mastiff

It took me awhile, but I finally realized why it took me so long to warm up to Beka Cooper. She is the first Tortallan protagonist who I (Suzanne) genuinely see a lot of myself in--and when I was reading Terrier and Bloodhound, I did not like what I saw. The terrible shyness and fear of speaking in front of large crowds, the strident adherence to guidelines and rules, the tireless dedication to work, the taking of everything far too seriously. It hit too close to home. These are all traits that I possess, and they are things that I do not necessarily like about myself. It was difficult seeing them on the page. It was difficult to accept that someone so similar to me could be a hero in one of Tamora Pierce’s stories.

And yet, by the time we get to Mastiff, there is no question that Beka is indeed a hero.

Tammy doesn’t wait for us to catch up to Beka, in the three years since we’ve seen her. She doesn’t wait for us to get to know her fiance. For if we ever thought that Tamora Pierce lacked gusto, nerve, or oomph, we are proven wrong by the first sentence of this book:

We buried Holborn today.

Turning My November Around

Being a recent college grad is hard. Being a recent college grad since the economic shithole in 2009 is torture. Being a recent college grad since the economic shithole in 2009 who has no idea not only of life plans, but of any employment prospects in general, sucks.

This is where my life was a month and a half ago. In general, I was bored. Not a great place to be.

And then I stumbled upon NaNoWriMo’s website. I’d vaguely heard about the challenge, called National Novel Writing Month by those not in the know, to write 50,000 words in 30 days. And on a whim, I decided to do it. After all, if I couldn’t find time to write 1,667 words a day when I was dissatisfied with life, when would I be able to do it?