What is Halloween?

Over in America, Halloween is an incredibly popular holiday.

On the 31st October, the entire nation is caught up in the excitement of costumes, candy and commercialism.

All Hallows Eve is a wonderful excuse to dress up and unleash your inner monster - or just curl up on the sofa with a bowl of popcorn and some scary movies.

One of my colleagues asked me if we celebrate Halloween in Europe. We do, certainly - but not on nearly the same scale as it's done in America.

Which is funny, since research suggests that Halloween originated in Europe - Ireland, specifically. Before Christianity arrived on the shores of Eire, the autumn festival of Oiche Shamha celebrated the end of summer and communities would burn large communal bonfires to ward off the spirits of the dead, who were traditionally most able to commune with the living at the height of Autumn.

Like many pagan festivals, they were adopted and adapted by the Christian church and Oiche Shama or Samhain became All Hallows Eve.

The popularity of Halloween in America probably has much to do with the enormous numbers of Irish immigrants who travelled to the New World in the nineteenth century. Certainly, the major traditions of Halloween, like dressing is costume and carving 'Jack of Lanterns' from pumpkins or turnips, are Irish in origin and still practised there.

It wasn't until the 20th century that Halloween became so universal and commercialised. Before then it was often seen as an Irish or Celtic festival, much like Columbus Day is for Italian Americans.

However in 1905, ghoulish Halloween postcards became available and spread knowledge of the festival across the United States. The tone of the holiday struck the fancy of the American nation and in very short order, the manufacture of Halloween decorations and costumes became a widespread and profitable business.

These days, Halloween is enormous, with a reported 93 percent of American children going out 'trick or treating' on the 31st October. Most people secretly admit it's their favourite holiday and many parents take the day off work to enjoy the festivities with their kids.

Although rather morbid in nature, the spirit of Halloween is infectious and I have to admit that I've really enjoyed my first ever American 'All Hallows Eve.'

For adults, I think part of the fun is choosing a costume that reflects who you really see yourself as deep inside. For ladies, it's often a sultry vampire or other creature that better reflects the seductress within (who they are only brave enough to unleash on Halloween.) For men, it's often fearsome serial killers and mad scientists from movies and TV, who represent freedom from the inhibitions of polite society.

And for me? Well, I wore my kilt to work, which wasn't really a costume at all.

But in the end I decided to go as V from the comic book and movie V for Vendetta. I certainly don't see myself as an anarchist, but there was something about the suave, charming, ruthless and romantic freedom fighter that appealed to the Saint-like buccaneer buried deep within.

What does you Halloween costume say about you?

Happy Halloween!

Happy Halloween!

"Voilà! In view, a humble vaudevillian veteran, cast vicariously as both victim and villain by the vicissitudes of Fate.

This visage, no mere veneer of vanity, is a vestige of the vox populi, now vacant, vanished.

However, this valorous visitation of a by-gone vexation, stands vivified and has vowed to vanquish these venal and virulent vermin van-guarding vice and vouchsafing the violently vicious and voracious violation of volition.

The only verdict is vengeance; a vendetta, held as a votive, not in vain, for the value and veracity of such shall one day vindicate the vigilant and the virtuous.

Verily, this vichyssoise of verbiage veers most verbose, so let me simply add that it's my very good honor to meet you and you may call me V."

The eponymous V - V for Vendetta (speech by Joel Silver, adapted from the Graphic Novel by Alan Moore and David Lloyd.)

Noddy Plant

Legendary Led Zeppelin front man Robert Plant is going to be appearing on SIRIUS Channel 70 this weekend, talking about his new CD Raising Sand.

I actually met Robert Plant once when he visited Tresco. I remember serving him shots of Johnny Walker and bottles of Grolsch. .

Plant seemed like an astonishingly nice, down-to-earth person and hung out and chatted to a few of the staff members in The New Inn after the restaurant had shut.

I don't think he was particually impressed with me - and it had nothing to do with the extortionate prices I charged in my bar. When I heard there was a famous rock-star coming to The Island Hotel, I instantly misidentified the curly-haired Plant for another famous rocker.

Noddy Holder - legendary 'Iiiit's Chriiiistmasss!' dude.


You can see how it could happen! (Robert Plant is on the right... Wait, the left...)

Raising Sand is a collaboration with Americana-Bluegrass Artist Alison Krauss and is available now from most good music stores.

Fighting a War with Pennies

Bob Parkhurst: I want to see how a war is fought... So badly!

Captain Blackadder: Well, you've come to the right place, Bob. A war hasn't been fought this badly since Olaf the Hairy - high chief of all the Vikings - accidentally ordered 80,000 battle helmets with the horns on the inside.

Blackadder Goes Forth, Richard Curtis and Ben Elton.

American politics boggles the mind. Take what's going on in Congress at the moment.

George Bush, realising his final term as President is coming to an end, has decided to try to create a reputation for himself as a fiscal conservative. He's already slashed down an annual $7 billion program to increase the State Children's Health Insurance (extending medical cover to 4 million children who are currently going without) and is now threatening to wield his veto pen if the Democrats insist on another $9 billion to be invested in cancer research and early childhood education.

It's all entirely laughable, however, considering this is the same man who's spent the past six years accumulating massive debt and increasing the American budget deficit to astonishing proportions.

What's worse is Bush lambasting the Democrats for being irresponsible spenders one moment, while then turning around to hold out his hat for $196 billion to pay for the war in Iraq.

Irresponsible Spending

Two things annoy me about President Bush's spending behaviour and the entire attitude of Congress towards the war.

The first is that President Bush is running the country like a irresponsible housewife with a new credit card. He harasses the congress for only seeing problems they "could not solve without shoving a tax hike into it." Then he whacks the $196 billion he wants to spend on foreign loan accounts, increasing America's international debt.

The fact that taxpayers might not see an immediate tax-hike doesn't make it free money. The nation still has to pay for it in the long run... Somehow!

But then there's the entire attitude of congress - Democrats and Republicans - towards the war in Iraq. They're battling for the reins by arguing over budgets. That's no way to run a war!

A War of Two Directions

I should lay my cards on the table.

I was all for the war at first. I didn't buy that Iraq was linked to 9/11, but there was no debating the fact that Saddam Hussein was a sleazy bastard.

I was behind the war in Iraq because I saw the opportunities were there for America and Britain to free people from tyranny and perhaps help the Middle East realise that democracy, peace and Western values were something to aspire to, not detest.

However, when President Bush wheeled the war-machine into Baghdad, nobody (least of all me) seemed to ask him what the long term strategy was. We wound up four years later with a bloody great mess on our hands.

Now we're stuck with the dilemma - do we stay or do we go?

If we pull our troops out of Iraq now, all we will have done is stormed into the country, destroyed the infrastructure and left it a smouldering vacuum to be taken over by the first fundamentalist nutcases who come around - and they're far worse (and more dangerous) than Saddam Hussein ever could have been.

However, if we stay, we need to make a plan, commit to it and then get the job done. I believe Maj. Gen. Benjamin Mixon, commander of U.S. forces in northern Iraq, when he says that it'll take a 'surge' of allied troops to wipe out the insurgents and make Iraq safe again. That will involve more troops, not less.

Iraq was never a wham-bam-thank-you-Mr-President affair. It was a long term project - and if we leave now, we're leaving the job incomplete and the people of Iraq are likely to hate us for it.

If the opposite of Pro is Con, does that means the opposite of Progress is...?

Instead of gunning one way or another, however, the American political process is forcing a horrifically mangled compromise. Bush's $196 billion has been held off until 2008, to force the President to come up with some new direction and plan for Iraq that will at least show some signs of progress.

In the mean time, the war is going to be won or lost on the floor of congress. A bridge fund, to maintain the troops in Iraq (feed them, water them, pay them) has been requested to fill the months until the $196 billion cash injection can be decided.

Canny Democrats, eager to the get the troops out of Iraq, are trying to hand over as little money as possible to force the generals into retreat.

Republicans, who argue that this bridge fund could pay for improved armour and vehicles for our vulnerable troops, aim to win enough money to keep the troops over in Iraq until next year's payday.

The inevitable compromise will leave the generals with enough money to secure their presence in Iraq, but not enough to invest in the improved vehicles and equipment that might prevent soldiers being killed by Improvised Explosive Devices (the homemade roadside bombs that are currently the biggest cause of fatally for soldiers in Iraq.)

There will be enough money for the troops to stay, so the Democrats will have lost. There won't be enough money for a 'surge' that might settle Iraq, so the Republicans will have lost. And, worst of all, the American troops will be stuck in the middle.

This is why this war is being fought 'so badly,' because the two bickering sides always end up in a compromise, instead of having the bravery to go one way or another and accept defeat or victory.

From this point on, it's possible that every single American troop who dies in Iraq might have been saved if congress and President Bush had been more decisive. The soldiers would have either been taken out of the line of fire or might have been given enough support to survive whatever attack killed them.

We're involved in a WAR here. Wars were never won by careful financial planning. They were won through decisive action and purity of purpose. Either we're in Iraq to win, or we should pack our bags and get the hell out of there.

Right now, I'd happily accept either solution - anything other than letting the bureaucrats fumble through another few months watching troops die purposelessly.

More Pictures of The Bridge to Nowhere

Giants come to London...

The good people of London were shocked this weekend.

"Giants?" They asked. "Battling Dolphins?"

Expecting something from a Godzilla movie (or possibly an episode of The Goodies) they dutifully lined up at the new Wembley Stadium and watched NFL legends the Miami Dolphins and New York Giants battle it out for... Well, I'm not quite sure.

What the American Football match was FOR was not important. What was important was that two legendary National Football League teams had crossed the Atlantic for a groundbreaking grudge-match on British soil.

It was a trial run, to see if the NFL could successfully make the transition from an American institution to a global phenomenon. Two of the greatest football teams in American history were matched against each other (both the Giants and the Dolphins have won two Superbowls) and the reaction was carefully gauged, to see if a future European transition might be successful.

And what was the reaction?

Curiosity. Confusion. A certain amount of ridicule.

American Football is such a spectacle in comparison to British sports. The armour and uniforms. The cheerleaders and half-time shows. You really do get your money's worth at an NFL game, but I suspect the British mentality will never quite gel with the concept.

Soccer (what we Brits call football, because you play it with your feet) dominates the sports scene. It'll take more than a few burly Americans to knock that institution off it's pedestal. And rugby? The closest comparison to American football?

Well, in Europe we joke that American Football players get modelling contracts, while rugby players wind up with cauliflower ears and broken noses. While the games themselves are quite similar, the way they're played is very different.

American footballers are larger, stronger and more powerful - able to perform astounding feats of speed and strength during the very short 'plays' of the game.

Rugby players, on the other hand, are tough and fast, but those attributes are tempered by stamina and grit. An American football game gets stopped and started many times, giving their athletes a chance to catch their breath. Rugby players just keep on going.

Rugby is a brutal, but unpretentious game. There are no cheerleaders or fancy costumes. It's toned down and much more in keeping with the British mentality. Like very small children, we Brits are overstimulated when confronted with the pomp, ceremony and showmanship of the National Football League of America.

So while I admire the American sport and the incredible athletes who play it, I don't think it will ever catch on in England. On the surface of it, we're too reserved and self conscious to enjoy the spectacle of an NFL game - and if we secretly did, we'd all be far too snobbish to admit it.

The Giants won 13-10 against the Dolphins in yesterday's game.

Channing Crowder, defensive back for the Miami Dolphins, admitted he wasn't aware that people spoke English in London - proving conclusively that a football scholarship from the University of Miami isn't really all that academically impressive.

iRony

I used to have a friend who loved his Mac.

He told me that we PC'ers were a foolish breed, enslaved by Bill Gates and his evil Microsoft corporation. Apple weren't like that at all. They understood their consumers. They cared about them. They had funny adverts with Mitchell and Webb (or John Hodgman and Justin Long in America.)

But as soon as the iPhone came out, we saw Mac for who they REALLY were.

Money grabbing tykes whose behaviour even Bill Gates would have found distasteful.

I mean, first off there was the iPhone itself. It was a lovely, pretty, shiny toy and if you wanted one, you had to buy it 'as it came' with a tied-in contract to AT&T, which ended up costing you about twice what a normal wireless phone package costs.

I mean, if you're a Mac customer, you should be used to their militant restrictions by now. I mean, surely you've all tried to use iTunes... But seriously, guys. The AT&T thing was just BLATANT. It's like waving a big banner saying: 'We know you suckers are going to buy our product anyway, so we're going to milk you for every penny we've got!'

But then it gets worse. A couple of months later - literally just weeks after they'd released their product - Apple drop the cost of their expensive iPhone by 33%.

They waited just long enough for those loyal Apple fans and the early adopters to splash out above the odds for the product - and then dropped the price massively to appeal to 'regular customers.'

Again, it was like waving a big banner saying: 'We SAW you suckers waiting in the aisles, with your fistfuls of money. Now we've got IT ALL we're going to drop the price for the people we REALLY care about - the new customers.'

Apple saw their loyal customer base, who loved and believed in them - and they screwed them. Twice. They manipulated, abused and walked all over those suckers and basically threw away all the good will their fluffy branding had earned them over the last decade.

This Christmas, if you're in the market for an MP3 player for your friends or family, I'd recommend you look beyond the blanket iPod marketing.

In Walmart, RadioShack and online, you can find a whole host of other MP3 players that can do everything iPods can do - like play movies, store thousands of songs and link to your PC - but they're cheaper, less restrictive and in buying them, you send a clear message to the likes of Apple that we consumers are not to be abused or taken for granted.

Apple? You suck.

What am I writing for Nanowrimo?

Well, it's only a few days away, so I decided I'd better bite the bullet and actually decide what I was going to write this year.

It wasn't very easy. To be honest, my mind has kind of ground to a halt when it comes to creative ideas. Even my blog post yesterday was fairly pathetic - I only published it when I eventually decided all the research into the best seller list was worth showing off (and mentioning all those best sellers might earn me a few extra visitors.)

But part of the Nanowrimo ethic is to concentrate on actually sitting down, shutting up and WRITING rather than flouncing about, wondering what to write.

It's DOING instead of talking about it. The very act of writing, with discipline, is the first step towards possibly becoming a novelist.

So I have decided to 'do it.'

Now my decision this year was to write something totally unrelated to Adventure Eddy. That's pretty much all I write about in my spare time and it's time to give the exhausted 'redheaded rogue' a well deserved breather.

For the month of November, Eddy has taken his rusty old Pontiac Firebird to a delightful hotel I know in Devil's Bridge (that's in Wales) where he will spend four weeks drinking draught Premier, eating steak dinners with onion rings and trudging through the Welsh woodlands. It will be damp and cold and character forming, so good for him.

And occupying the vacant space inside my imagination?

Out of the list of story ideas I outlined last time, the lucky winner is to be The God Squad.

The God Squad.

I have given much thought to what makes a book successful. One of the attractions has to be controversy. Take the Di Vinci Code. A fairly run-of-the-mill thriller became one of the greatest selling books of all time because it flirted with religious controversy.

That idea, plus the fact that the characters were already fully formed inside my head, inspired me to pursue The God Squad as a project. It's not particularly religiously controversial - but it's plot is involved with religion, how it's perceived and one possible way religion and reality coexist.

Plus it's got vampires and monsters in it. Religion+Vampires+Monsters = Bestseller.

The God Squad is Buffy the Vampire Slayer meets the Di Vinci Code.

The Premise

Have you watched Torchwood? It's the BBC series about a team of incompetent Welsh people who secretly combat alien threats to Earth's security. It's a spin off of Doctor Who and is largely only viewable thanks to that lovely John Barrowman - a guy even the most homophobic and repressed rugger-bugger will admit is 'a bit of all right.... for a bloke.'

Torchwood is terrible, but it's premise is interesting. That's why The God Squad, when we're not marketing it as Buffy the Vampire Slayer meets the Di Vinci Code™ is going to be marketed as The Real Torchwood™.

Aliens bore me. I'm much more interested in monsters, ghosts, myths and legends. Therefore, my 'real Torchwood' consists of a Vatican sponsored team of monster exterminators.

A team of heavily armed, ruthlessly trained priests who are sponsored by the Vatican, the Church of England and the British Government to destroy anything 'extra-Biblical' that's upsetting the status quo in England. There are similar teams across the world.

Extra-Biblical, you ask? Whassat, then?

I don't know if you've ever read this, but it's one of the bits I remember from all my brief theological studies back at Lampeter. Back in the old testament days, angels and man used to coexist on earth. They used to coexist so closely, in fact, that sometimes angels would 'lay' with humans and the resultant offspring would be Nephilim, half human, half angel creatures.

God was all big and shouty in those days, so he was outraged. Had Jesus been around, they might have resolved something peacefully, but instead God decided to wash the earth clean with a great flood. He told Noah to build an ark and then let it rain for forty days and forty nights.

After the Flood

Now I'm postulating here, but in my book's world, the resultant flood washed away not just the Nephilim, but also all the other mythical creatures that Noah didn't take samples of onto the ark. Unicorns, griffins, dragons, vampires, goblins, trolls... The whole lot.

The 'old' pagan monsters were washed away and the 'new' Christian world was born, repopulated by the non-heretical ancestors from Noah's Ark. That's where we learnt our understanding and tolerance of 'acceptable' animals (like dogs and cats and tigers and duck-billed platypi) and developed our fear and hatred of 'unacceptable' mythological creatures.

The thing is, floods aren't entirely effective at wiping things out. Some of the creatures survived. Dragons and griffins escaped to the mountains. Satyrs and unicorns found safety in caves. Even some of the Nephilim survived (their descendants would later became professional basketball players, I assume.)

The survival of these 'cryptozoological' animals explains why dragons, chimeras and werewolves have cropped up in the popular imagination for the last four millenia - and why we're scared and hateful of any animal not listed on Noah's passenger list.

Ever since the creation of the Catholic Church, cryptozoological animals have been ruthlessly hunted down and destroyed by top secret teams of exterminators. This has helped spread Christianity across the world (settlers to Africa, for example, exterminated the very real monsters that terrified the tribesmen.)

It sounds morally reprehensible (for example, what have unicorns done to deserve extermination?) but on the whole, it's not a bad thing. Cryptozoological animals are generally very fierce, very dangerous and, after surviving the great flood and millenia of persecution, very pissed off.

The Dream Team

Having established the world we live in, in which mythical creatures live in the shadows and threaten the safety of decent, God-fearing people, let me introduce The God Squad.

The God Squad is the modern day incarnation of the Vatican monster-hunters. Since the cryptozoological exterminators pre-date the existence of the Church of England and the British Government, the current 'God Squad' operates with complete autonomy on British soil, reporting only to the Vatican (although receiving advice and support from the Church of England) and enjoying Diplomatic Immunity via Vatican City.

The God Squad is a six man team, based in a large Victorian house in Victoria, London (actually overlooking Westminster Cathedral.) This house, which includes a chapel, laboratory, luxury sleeping quarters, a massive occult library, a shooting range, 'danger room' and garage complex, is known as The Sanctum.

It is maintained by Carruthers, a stuffy British butler.

This is the headquarters where the God Squad await the call to action, heading out across England to investigate (and eliminate) any reported supernatural activities.

The team itself consists of:

'Fitz' Fitzpatrick: Vatican Liaison. A charming, fast-talking Irish-American from New York City, Fitzpatrick is responsible for planning, organising and executing The God Squad's activities. He was born and raised in a Roman Catholic orphanage, so he's (in theory) a good Irish catholic. He's not a priest, though, and he was raised on the streets of New York City, so he's tough, cunning and streetwise (not to mention a little amoral) too.

Father Sam McCoy: Apothecary. A grizzled, middle-aged New Yorker, McCoy is the medic and healer of the group. He is a fully licensed doctor as well as a priest. A lifelong friend to Fitz, the younger American often looks up to McCoy as a father figure.

Father Huxley: Inquisitor #1. Not to be mistaken for Friar Tuck, Huxley is a monster of a man, as strong and muscular as he is fat and leering. A God fearing priest, Huxley is often driven by his rather lascivious nature and this has caused scandal after scandal for the Catholic Church. They were at their wits end - until they realised his firebrand persona could be directed towards the enemies of the Church. Huxley is dressed in an ankle length cassock, has a loud, booming voice and is best known for his great strength and use of his famous 'Crucifax' to smite the unGodly.

Father Mandrake: Inquistor #2. At a wiry seven feet tall, this former Masaai tribesman is a terrifying sight. Mandrake (he changed his name when he converted to Christianity) was a hunter, bushman and missionary in Africa for many years, until his unswerving accuracy with his .577 Holland & Holland rifle attracted the attention of the Vatican's 'monster hunters.' Mandrake's already imposing demeanour is make even more terrifying by his habit of carving scripture into his dark skin as 'penance' for dark thoughts he is tortured by, but never shares. A quiet, gentle man, he is utterly deadly with a kisu, rifle or his bare hands.

Rupert Hawkins: Librarian. A one time Oxford don, stuffy upper-class Hawkins was recruited by the Vatican for his encyclopedic knowledge of British history and mythology. He has memorised the Bestiarum Vocabulum, which is pretty much the officially recognized Vatican 'What's What' of monsters. A fund of knowledge, Hawkins is not a combat operative and is more likely to cower under a table, clutching an ancient book, then join the two Inquisitors battling evil. when push comes to shove, however, Hawkins can defend himself adequately with a WWII-era Webley revolver.

'Kitty' Katherine - Sororitas. Every monster hunting team has one female member, due to the fact that women and femininity are very powerful in the pagan world the Vatican is trying to exterminate. An icy cold, utterly composed Oxford scholar, Kitty is fairly fearsome. She's rail thin, pail and always conservatively dressed. While Hawkins concentrates on the monsters and mythology of Britain, Kitty is a walking encyclopedia for magical, occult and Wicca activities. She knows the Malleus Maleficarum like the back of her hand and can also perform many of the occult ceremonies and spells outlined in her books.

So that's the Team

There's our gang, all holed up in that big house in Victoria. They train and study and (in the case of the two 'Inquisitors') pray until the telephone rings and they're alerted to another supernatural conspiracy. Werewolves in Wolverhampton. Harpies in Hardwich. A blood drinking cult posing as Boy Scouts.

When the call comes in, they pile into The God Squad-mobile which is lovingly tended by Scruggs, the mechanic. This vehicle is called, for reasons that have faded into obscurity, Traveler.

A Rolls Royce Flying Spur, with custom coachwork (it's something between a hearse and an estate car) and an updated engine, reinforced chassis (including bull bars) and over sized tyres. It's the sort of thing that makes the Torchwood Range Rover look like a Dinky Toy.

Crammed into Traveler - aside from enough seats for the entire six-man gang - is a mobile laboratory, medical lab, a small reference library (which Kitty and Hawkins tailor for each mission) and, of course, a gun rack containing enough firepower to blow most supernatural entities back to the biblical days.

Highlights from the gun collection include Mandrake's Victorian-era Holland & Holland .577 Nitro Express rifle (utterly deadly, but elegant) and Father Huxley's Armsel Striker 12 gauge semi-automatic shotgun (basically a drum-fed Tommy Gun that fires shotgun shells instead of bullets.)

Throw in handguns and rifles for the less violent team members (all of whom are trained to shoot) and it's a pretty lethal team - plus Hawkins keeps specialised kit on hand to deal with werewolves (silver bullets) vampires (charcoal rounds) and whatever else might come their way.

What's the Story?

Now you've got the gist of what I've invented, forget it all.

Because like the clever opening of Torchwood, this story is not about Fitz or McCoy or any of the other God Squad members. They're just supporting characters.

The REAL main character is a hard working Doctor at Winchester Royal Infirmary. The scary old Victorian hospital is being closed down and she's in charge of a arranging the packing up.

This doctor (who is currently nameless) reluctantly becomes part of The God Squad team when she stumbles over what looks like a very dangerous, messy and most-certainly extra-Biblical conspiracy right in the heart of Hampshire's cathedral city.

Huh?

Since they're all deranged 'exterminators,' grizzled New Yorkers or snooty scholars, I didn't think any of The God Squad characters would make a good main character - so by recruiting a reluctant 'normal' to the squad, we-the-normal-public get to follow a character we can relate to and care about.

The Mary Sue - your eyes into their world.

It's the oldest trick in the book - think Gwen in Torchwood, Winston in Ghostbusters. Even Wesley in Star Trek: The Next Generation. The best one is probably Rose - just your normal, every day chav - in Doctor Who.

They are our doorway into these magical stories.

When you've got a host of exciting, unusual, powerful, dangerous characters, it's neither sensible or believable to try and tell the story from their perspective. That's why, for example, Buffy the Vampire Slayer is a regular girl who just happens to be a slayer (teenage America mutters: that could happen to me) while the interesting characters (like Spike) are centuries old vampires (nobody but Anne Rice believes that could happen to her.)

Hopefully this kind hearted, brave but tragically human doctor will be the key to helping my story come alive.

And last but not least...

Well, that's the background to the story. Notice I haven't even begun to outline plot... That's something I'm going to have to throw together before November 1st.

But it's certainly an interesting arena to play in. And if I can include plenty of gratuitous violence, some gore, some sex, some character conflict and lots of humour, maybe The God Squad could turn into something really exciting to write about.

Writing Adventure Stories for Fun and Profit

Nanowrimo is fast approaching and I'm totally at a loss about what to write.

Here I am, a talented [big head - Editorial Bear] young writer with a vivid imagination - but I have no idea what my 50,000 word story will be about - and I'm meant to start writing in a mere seven days.

Last year, I carefully crafted and planned the entire plot beforehand. Now I'm going to be plunging in at the deep end, hoping for the best.

One thing's for certain. It's quite a liberating feeling, knowing that I can write whatever I want. But do I just want to write? Or, like most Nanowrimo'ers, do I want to edge myself closer to publication?

If publishing is my game, I'd better have a plan [a game plan, perhaps? - Editorial Bear.]

That's why I've been giving some thought to what makes a book publishable.

Having married somebody with the attention span of a ferret, I am learning more and more about what makes things successful in the world of writing. It's 'bite' 'hook' and 'edge' that make all the difference. Get the reader hooked in five seconds or less, or they'll move on.

It's sad, but while writing talent is definitely part of the equation, it doesn't top the list of 'things that make people buy books.' That's why I've got to rely on more than my writing talent [talent? - Editorial Bear.]

When publishing companies pick up manuscripts, they first of all look at how marketable the entire package is. They worry more about how many copies they'll sell than the actual quality of the writing. That's where the money is.

Here's a good recent example. Missy Chase Lapine's recent kid's cookbook 'The Sneaky Chef' was passed over by a publisher who then went on to print Jessica Seinfeld's nearly identical 'Deceptively Delicious.'

Both were books about devious ways to encourage kids to eat more healthily (in fact, Jessica's book even contained some of the same recipes as Missy's.) The same books - and Missy's came first. But Jessica brought not just her possibly plagiarised prose to the conference table. She also brought the 'Seinfeld' name - she's the wife of famous New York comedian Jerry Seinfeld.

Celebrity Connections

That familiar name, plus showbiz connections, won an endorsement from Oprah Winfrey. That explains why Deceptively Delicious is zooming up the best seller lists in a way The Sneaky Chef couldn't have hoped to (although it still made it to The New York Times bestseller list.)

Celebrity sells. If you don't believe me, look at the top-five non-fiction hardback bestsellers this week:

• I am America (and so can you!) by Comedy Central's Stephen Colbert (who is also running for Presidential Election.)


• Clapton by Eric Clapton.


• The Age of Turbulence by former Chairman of the Federal Reserve Board Alan Greenspan.


• Celebrity Detox by actress, talk show host and 'professional lesbian' Rosie O'Donnell

Inexplicably beautiful hate monger Ann Coulter's book 'If Democrats Had Any Brains They'd Be Republicans' was nudged off the top five by 'My Grandfather's Son' - a memoir by Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas [does being a supreme court justice make you a celebrity? - Editorial Bear]

Getting Buzzed

The other way publishers are increasing sales is by publishing books with 'buzz.'

Books that relate to topical subjects, like Iraq, Afghanistan, Global Warming and related newsworthy topics, invariably get discussed. That talk propagates on the Internet and creates more buzz, while people in book shops pick up the books related to subjects they've heard discussed around the water cooler.

It's Who Reads You

Reviews count.

Oprah Winfrey in America and Richard and Judy in the UK basically control the book industry. The books they elect to review are the ones whisked off the bookshelves by eager sheep [shouldn't this be 'readers' - Editorial Bear.]

But even a small review can help boost sales. It's just a pity that book reviews are slowly being trimmed from national and local newspapers.

Print space discussing books could, in the eyes of most editors, be better used as ad space. Many newspapers, such as The Hampshire Chronicle in Winchester, only deign to have book reviews if their author or subject matter is directly relevant to Winchester or Central Hampshire.

But they still happen. 107.2 WinFM had a wonderful book segment cooked up by presenter Elysa Marsden, in which she interviewed authors like Wilbur Smith and Kate Mosse. Getting a book endorsed on radio or in print is an excellent way to let people hear about it.

Hooked

The most IMPORTANT aspect of putting together a marketable book package, however, has to be the 'hook.' This is the thing that can propel an aspiring author straight to the best seller lists - if only they can get it right.

Just like movie producers have to deliver a 'pitch,' a marketable book has to have something compelling about it that can be summed up in just a few short words.

This is the stuff people will discuss over the water cooler and in their book clubs. These are the things that will grab my wife's ferret-like 'oooh, shiny' attention and get her walking into Barnes and Noble clutching a ten dollar bill [where have you been? You can't get a decent hardback without a mortgage these days - Editorial Bear]

Consider the blurb - and then listen to the pitch - regarding these recent best sellers:

The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini - Against a backdrop of tumultuous events, from the fall of the monarchy in Afghanistan through the Soviet invasion, Amir, a well-to-do boy, is haunted by the guilt of betraying his childhood friend Hassan. HOOK: A teenage boy lets his male friend get raped by a Taliban bully - and feels really bad about it.

The Almost Moon by Alice Sebold - Sebold owns the template for writing dazzling openings too compelling to ignore, pulling you into a riptide that won't let go in an incessantly bleak novel of mental illness that leaves nothing to the imagination. HOOK: When a frustrated teacher's 88 year old mother loses bowel control, she murders her, hides her body and then has sex with her neighbour's son.

Into the Wild by Ken Follett - One of the most haunting, unforgettable reads in recent years. Krakauer, whose adventures have taken him to the perilous heights of Everest, explores the seductive, yet often dangerous pull the outdoors. HOOK: Successful college student gives away his car and possessions, hitchhikes into the middle of the Alaskan wilderness and... dies.

Murdering your mother! Letting your best friend get raped! Walking into the Alaskan desert and winding up as a gigantic ice-lolly. Who could FAIL to be hooked by these potent books?

Okay, they're all a bit depressing. But compelling? Oh yes!

Short of being a celebrity or cosying up to Richard and Judy [shudder - Editorial Bear] the best way you can ensure that your book will be a success if by giving it a compelling hook - a brief selling-point that will whet the appetite of even the most cynical reader.

Compelling hooks that involve death, dismemberment, rape and death [didn't we already mention death? - Editorial Bear] are the ideal choices (it's no surprise that W.H. Smiths now has an entire 'Personal Tragedy' section of tragic biographies.) However, if that's all a bit dark and gloomy for you, conspiracy, religion, sex, sex and more sex [you forgot sex - Editorial Bear] are likely to raise the eyebrows and hopefully assist on the journey from bookshelf to checkout.

Look Book

Finally, if all else fails, you could just slap a naked lady on the cover.

As a typical man, I will automatically pick up any book I see that has a naked lady on the cover. The same goes for sports cars, guns, World War II fighter planes [and semi-naked ladies - Editorial Bear.]

Lurid book covers sell books!

Conclusion

When we [who are you talking to? - Editorial Bear] embark on this Nanowrimo madness, we've got something important to consider. What is the hook we're writing about? What's going to grab the reader by the collar and wrench them into our make-believe world?

Over the last few years, I've spent a lot of time writing what I want to write - stories of adventure and excitement featuring Adventure Eddy and his chums. Now it's time to ask myself what a potential audience might want to read - and see if I can make the two meet somewhere in the middle.

I have a million and one additional Adventure Eddy stories I never seem to find time to write - but this time I'm going to invest a month in writing about something else. Something new, exciting and as much of a mystery to me as it will be to my readers [you have readers? Why was I not informed? - Editorial Bear.]

You still have a few days to join me on the Nanowrimo adventure!

Editorial Bear assisted with the editing of this post.

Fred Thomspon on Immigration

My presidential hopes are pinned on Stephen Colbert at the moment - who is running in the South Carolina primaries as both a Democrat AND Republican.

But on the off chance Comedy Central's finest can't pull a win out of the hat, my general feelings are still pointing in the direction of the Republican candidates. Rudy Giuliani is an excellent 'moderate' choice, seeing as he's supportive of gay rights and other issues which the evangelicals get their knickers in a twist about, but make very little actual difference in the grand scheme of things.

If two gay men want to get married, how does that negatively impact my life? It doesn't - not one jot - and it makes two gay men happy at the same time. Win / Win. Further evidence that religion and politics need to be ruthlessly separated.

But Rudy has always been soft on immigration. As mayor of New york City, he fought hard for the rights of illegal immigrants and won them schooling for their kids (fair enough) and the right to avoid questions regarding their immigration status from city employees (not really right.)

Since he threw his hat into the ring, Rudy has flip-flopped about immigration. He's done an about-turn and come more in-line with the Republican party's official policy. That doesn't mean he buys it, however.

Fred Thompson, on the other hand, seems to know exactly where he stands on illegal immigration and he won't let the Republicans or Democrats tell him any different. Today he released his 'presidential' policies regarding the thorny topic and they make for compelling reading. Read them here.

My highlights include: "Amnesty undermines U.S. law and policy, rewards bad behavior, and is unfair to the millions of immigrants who follow the law and are awaiting legal entry into the United States." Hooray! My one major gripe with illegal immigrants. Why should they be patted on the back for skipping over the border while I obey the rules and get stiffed out of three years of my life and thousands of dollars in 'fees.'

"Without illegal employment opportunities available, fewer illegal aliens will attempt to enter the country, and many of those illegally in the country now likely will return home." If illegal immigrants were unable to work, companies would have to rely on American labour - and pay them appropriately. The minimum wage in some states is barely $5 a hour. If a company is too cheap to pay an American citizen even that pifling sum, they have no rights employing anybody in the first place.

"Reduce the backlogs and streamline the process for immigrants and employers who seek to follow the law. Also, simplify and expedite the application processes for temporary visas." I waited nearly four years for the right to enter the United States because the immigration process was so backlogged and inefficient. If the systems were in place to give immigration hopefuls a 'yay' or 'nay' within a few weeks - instead of years - maybe there would be fewer incentives for illegal immigration to take place.

"Caps for any category of temporary work visa would be increased as appropriate, if it could be demonstrated that there are no Americans capable and willing to do the jobs." If people are talented, dedicated and hard working - and can really contribute something to the American economy - give them a shot at working there. If the opportunities are available, people will choose legal immigration over illegal - and aliens would enter American based on their skills and knowledge, rather than their ability to scale fences.

"Make English the official language of the U.S. to promote assimilation and legal immigrants’ success, and require English proficiency in order for any foreign person to be granted lawful permanent resident status." Are you reading this, Bank of America? Quit sending me stuff in Spanish just because you saw the 'non-American citizen' box was ticked on my application.

These are all sensible, reasonable and - most importantly of all - effective policy suggestions that could positively transform the dismal state of American immigration as it currently stands.

Fred Thompson? You have scored some brownie points today.

Oh, illegal immigration...

Oh, illegal immigration!

What a nightmare this farce is. It's the elephant in the living room every American is trying to ignore during their day-to-day existence - but arguing vocally about in the presidential debates and elsewhere.

The scope of the problem is far greater than most people are aware of. Take where I live, for example. In North Brunswick, the census reports a mere 10-15% of residents as being Hispanic in origin. If that's true, every single one of them must live on my street. Although some of my Hispanic neighbours are perfectly legal, there are others who speak no English and drive rickety old cars with out-of-state licence plates - making me highly dubious of their immigration status.

Not that they do us any harm. This is why I refer to them as 'an elephant in the living room.' In pubs and at dinner parties, I'm more than happy to rant about how unfair it is - but on a day-to-day basis, I smile and nod and ignore 'them' because they just seem like normal, peaceful, everyday people trying to make it like everybody else.

And that's the problem, really.

People like me, who topple just over the 'moderate' knife-edge towards liberalism, see illegal immigrants as regular folks who want to make a better life for themselves and their families. We live in the same communities as illegal immigrants and they do us no harm, except when we can't understand them (Carlos Mencia has a skit about the immigrants working at the local fast-food place saying "Weyo to Madonnas" instead of "Welcome to MacDonalds.")

However, there's a steady shift going on regarding people's attitudes to illegal immigration. The right wing has always gnashed their teeth at the thought of immigrants exploiting America's welcome policy. Now more and more left wing people seem to be joining them.

Events like this can't help:

At a recent protest for illegal immigrant rights, the arguments the illegals used shifted focus. Instead of the old cries - demanding the right to earn a decent wage and support their families - the illegal immigrants held up signs protesting America's very existence.

White people and Europeans (and presumably African American people as well, since we Europeans were responsible for 'importing' them) were genocidal invaders and the American nation was built on land that belonged to the native Americans and Mexicans.

In Texas, New Mexico and southern California, some illegal immigrants are explicitly declaring that this is THEIR land and the Americans living on it are the REAL illegal immigrants. They call themselves the 'reconquista' - a play on the Conquistadors who travelled from Spain to conquer the Americas five hundred years ago.

As far as the Right Wing is concerned, these protesters are no longer illegal immigrants, but an unofficial invading army.

With thanks to Jenn of Take A Stand Against Liberals. I shamelessly stole these photographs from her website while she was distracted by the oncoming California wildfires.

Curiously British

My brother sent me this awesome picture from his voyage down Oxford Canal.

British Gnashers and American Tooth Doctors

Americans take dental care very seriously. That's why this Monday, Tina dragged me off to the dentist, for an hour long experience my gums are not soon going to forget.

It was pretty horrific. Fifteen or so years of tartar and plaque, scrapped off by a detirmined little Italian woman who worked like she should have been wearing a hard hat.

After forty minutes of anguish, I gargled and rinsed a mouthful of gristle-flecked blood and wondered how Tina had ever talked me into this miserable experience in the first place.

But the doctor came in and gave me the thumbs up. When it comes to my pearly off-whites, I am apparently very lucky.

I guess that's because, when I was growing up, my parents took me to the dentist and made me brush my teeth. Living on a farm also meant I had lots of fresh milk and cheese to eat which helped develop the fine set of crooked tombstones lodged in my jaw.

But even good foundations are prone to crumble, the dentist warned. I wasn't really in much of a condition to argue, witnesing the amount of calcified lumps I'd just had hacked and jackhammered off my enamel. Apparently fifteen years is not an appropriate length of time to leave between visits to the dentist!

Why had it been so long? Well, looking at it philisophically, I think my attitude was the same as the average dogs. Given the choice, he's not going to volunteer for a visit to the vets.

But it wasn't just that. Once I'd flown the family coup, seeing a dentist in the UK became a pretty daunting proposition.

The National Health Care service theoretically provides all British subjects access to nationalised dental care. In reality, this system has utterly collapsed.

In order to receive subsidised dental care (which you still need to pay for) you have to register with a dentist who has openings in his limited rota of NHS customers. Finding such a dentist is a real challenge - since there's no 'catchment' area like for NHS general practitioners. You can wind up having to sign up with a dentist who lives an hour or more away.

As an article in The State revealed:

Brits gum up the works with super glue
Few health service dentists leads to resourcefulness

By THOMAS WAGNER - The Associated Press

LONDON — A shortage of National Health Service dentists in England has led some people to pull their own teeth — or use super glue to stick crowns back on, a study says.

Many dentists abandoned Britain’s publicly funded health care system after reforms backfired, leaving a growing number of Britons without access to affordable care.

“I was not surprised to hear those horror stories,” said Celestine Bridgeman, 41, of London.

“Trying to find good NHS dentists is like trying to hit the lottery because the service is underfunded.”

That's why, when Tina and I lived in the UK, we never actually got around to signing up with a dentist. We didn't have access to the NHS care and couldn't afford to go private. We just brushed religiously and stayed away from the rock candy.

When we came to America, though, things were different. My job included dental care for just a few dollars per month - which covered visits to the local dentist (within walking distance of our house) who was open over the weekends and up until 9pm.

What an astounding proposition. Simply unheard of in the UK. A dentist near where you live who can see you at a time convenient to your schedule.

That's how I got conned into the appointment - and emerged with tender gums and strange obsession with licking the back of my newly-ridgy teeth.

All things considered, it's probably a good thing that I'm braving visits to the dentist. I just think it's kind of ironic that access to dental care is cheaper and more convenient in Big Bad America than it ever was in England. The biggest complaint British expats make about the Land of the Free is that healthcare isn't - free, that is.

But when it comes to dental work, the 'free' service in the United Kingdom delivers exactly what you paid for it - nothing.

Now the sheep is on the other foot...

"Le vin, il naît, puis il vit, mais point ne meurt, en l'homme il survit."
Baron Philippe de Rothschild.

Linked as it is to the famous Rothschild name, Mouton Cadet has always been a cut about the average bargain basement Bordeaux.

Produced en masse to the same exacting standards as much more expensive wine, Cadet is a consistently adequate proposition which can grace the average British dinner table for just £8.99 (from most major UK supermarkets.)

Today, while visiting Rutgers Wine in North Brunswick, I picked up a bottle because I was feeling slightly homesick and pretentious all at the same time. And the cost? $8.99.

The exact same wine - except the bottle that had voyaged 3,000 miles to grace my local liquor store was half the cost of it's equivalent in England.

I expressed my surprise to the owner of Rutger's Wine. He simply shrugged: "It's America, Dude. Everything's cheaper."

As adequate and philosophical as that answer might be, it still fails to satisfy me. How come a 'budget' wine in France and America winds up being such a costly purchase in the good old United Kingdom?

I couldn't tell you - but I suspect it has something to do with Gordon Brown.

Four and a half HOURS of TERROR!

Halloween approaches... So yesterday, Tina and I teamed up with friends Armstrong and Shakira and we dared to brave the terrifying Field of Terror!

Halloween is one of the most popular American holidays. It's the excuse to dress up as whatever you want (for most American teenage girls, this inexplicably winds up as Bunny Girls, Wenches, Hookers or Naughty Nurses) and wallow in all the horror, gore, cheap scares and wicked thrills your favourite Hollywood horror flicks can provide.

Around New Jersey, many local farms organise 'Haunted Attractions' for brave punters to visit. These involve hayrides (the curiously American tradition of bumping around in the back of a tractor trailer) through 'haunted woods' - where you encounter gory set-pieces and horrifying monsters jump out at you from the shadows.

There are also 'corn mazes,' which are winding paths cut through the eight feet tall corn fields, leading to spooky scenes of graphic ghoulishness.

Field of Terror, in East Windsor, promised both, so braving the darkness and my inadequate navigation, we set off in Shahkira's truck and signed up for the spookfest.

It was a lot of fun. This sort of thing just doesn't seem to exist in England and that's a real pity. Halloween is such a deliciously indulgent occasion and these haunted attractions are a wonderful expression of it!

At Fields of Terror, you first queued. You queued in Disneyesque fashion. We arrived at 8pm and didn't board the Hayride until 9:30pm. But by then we were all riled up and looking forward to the adventure. Random attacks by famous faces (like Halloween's Michael Myers) kept our adrenaline pumping.


There was even a boiled-encrusted mutant, begging likely types to 'pet' his disgusting radioactive baby. His name, judging by the cries of the other cast members, was Pet My Baby.

On the hayride, about thirty of us clambered into the back of an old tractor trailer piled with hay bales. Then we trundled off into the woods...

Through the darkness we travelled for about five minutes, until we rounded a corner and came across a broken down caravan slewed across the road, flanked by rusty patio furniture and rickety outhouses. Scrawled in red across the caravan were the words: "Trailer Park from Hell!"

Just as we'd taken in this scene, the outhouse door burst open and a redneck in a singlet came rushing out at us, wielding an exhaust-spewing chainsaw.

Cue screams and panic from the trailer.

Dodging the whirring chainsaw, the tractor hauled us to apparent safety, back into the dark and dingy woods.

Next we passed through a rickety gateway, constructed from scrap wood and poles. A pig's head peered sightlessly down at us from the tallest pole, reminding me inexplicably of having to read Lord of the Flies when I was in primary school.

As we took this all in, more screams erupted. Jumping out of the bushes were a couple of furry werewolves, who leapt onto the sides of the trailers and immediately started harassing the nearest pretty girls (Tina found herself being snuffled by a particularly amorous lycanthrope.)

From the trees, spotlights lit up a rock, swinging down at us, about to crush the trailer. Just a few feet before it hit, however, a secondary rope pulled the rock away and spared us from obliteration (or, at the very least, a long walk back to the car park.)

Off we rumbled, back into the darkness.

We then passed what looked like an abandoned shack, right in the middle of the woods. Spotlights lit up a pretty teenage girl, strapped to a chair while a masked madman closed in on her with a whirring drill and rusty blades. She begged for rescue while we trundled past, until the rumbling diesel engine drowned out her pleas.

Then, rounding the corner, our tractor left the woods and we passed beneath a sign, welcoming us to Man Slaughter Village (Population: All Dead)

We trundled through an eerie graveyard, peering expectantly at the crosses sticking out of the ground. The open graves and coffins failed to spew forth any scary bad guys, which lulled us into a false sense of security.

False, because the tractor then took us through a scrapyard, filled with rusty old cars and an abandoned fire truck, it's lights blinking mournfully into the darkness. From the shadows, a fireman came staggering towards us, pleading for help - only to be axed to the ground by a madman chasing him.

Leaving him to his fate, we wheeled off around the corner and back to the apparent safety of the car park.

Once we'd unloaded, leaving the trailer ready for another load of unsuspecting victims, we queued up to enter the five acre corn maze.

This line moved pretty quickly. Soon we were passing through a ghoulish gateway and making our winding way through eight feet tall stalks of corn.

It was dark and disorientating. Soon we'd lost all sense of direction, only being vaguely aware of the sound of a generator popping in one direction and somebody screaming in the other.

To enter the maze proper, we had to pass through 'The Big Squeeze.' An enormous black orifice, it squeezed us tightly and we had to force our way blindly through, until it spat us out back in the middle of the cornfield, totally turned around from where we'd originally thought we were.

There was nothing to do but trudge onwards. Not so easy when the stalks of corn would suddenly rustle and out would leap an axe wielding bad guy. Tina, being small and busty and cute and 'screamy', was a natural target for these attackers. One of them - a small pig-faced monster - revealed her mistake.

"You're mine now!" He hissed. "You made eye contact!"

Struggling through the maze, we eventually made it to an abandoned school-bus, where Freddy Krueger welcomed us on board with his fistful of knives...

"Just an inch or two off the back," Tina quipped.

Through the blood soaked bus we went, until we found ourselves in a wrecked children's playground, set upon by fiendish looking (and slightly disinterested) killer clowns.

The maze seemed to go on forever, interspersed by wonderful conceptual set-pieces. For example, we stumbled across a bizarre collection of gigantic painted eggs.

"What the hell is this?" Tina demanded. "Did they just leave these over from this year's Easter Egg Hunt?"

But no! Out of the bushes leapt a ravenous, blood soaked Easter Bunny, obviously driven psychopathic by the fiendish children scoffing his eggs earlier that year.

I can't remember everything that we experienced in the maze - only that it was a lot of fun and pretty creepy. When we finally got to the end, though, we discovered the real American 'horror' mentality. This is why they always die in the horror movies!

We arrived in a clearing miles from the car park. A single guy, out of costume and character, told us to wait for a tractor and trailer to cart us back to our cars.

So we waited. And waited.

Eventually, a bunch of the crowd started to get irritated.

"Screw this!" Somebody yelled. "We'll walk back!"

"No!" The guide yelled. "Don't take the path back! The tractor doesn't have lights. He could run you over!"

"SCREW YOU!" the leader of the rebels spat back. "We ain't waiting!"

So off he and about thirty of his followers trudged, into the darkness towards the sound of the humming generators.

I stood there, stunned.

In England, nobody would even have thought of questioning the guide's authority. We'd have neatly arranged ourselves into a line and waited. That's the indomitable spirit that forged (and lost) the British Empire.

What stunned me more, however, was the number of people following the loud-mouthed cretin.

The teenage girls and giggly boys had screamed and squirmed their way through a spooky maze making appropriate 'terrified' responses at all the fake dangers... But when faced with a REAL danger - like a speeding tractor crushing them beneath it's wheels - they all teamed up and set off blithely like the 'screaming Americans' we arrogant Europeans always make fun of in the disaster movies.

If this was a disaster movie (or even just a horror movie) they'd all have got horribly mangled by a rogue combine harvester or something - and the audience would have laughed.

But this wasn't a horror movie. It was real life. They were facing real danger, heading off into the darkness. We should have yelled at them to stop and turn back...

But by the time the rebellion had assembled itself, there were only a few of us left standing waiting for the tractor... So we decided to join them like good little horror movie victims.

The End.

Epilogue:

We made it back safe and sound (needless to say.) On our journey back, we were even passed by the speeding demon tractor - which had stopped on it's journey to pick up the first lot of rebellious Americans stoically trudging back towards the car park.

Thinking they were going to be carted the rest of the way in hayride luxury, they clambered on board the tractor and rumbled past us, peering down at us pedestrians with a look of smug superiority.

Except they were heading AWAY from the car park.

Into the darkness.

Towards the sound of all the screaming.

Watching them go, I idly wondered if the Field of Terror had a terrifying fate planned for these dissident customers...



Field of Terror is in East Windsor, NJ - and is still open until 11pm next weekend.