Wednesday, January 27, 2010

New Arrivals


I am an uncle.


I do not know why I have been chosen to be an uncle, but the Fates have decided that it is a title I needed, and so they have furnished me with a set of nieces. From the photograph, the nieces look fine, if a bit pink and splodgy. My sister is happy and her husband is confused, but then he is always confused.


(I know you’re reading this, Will, and I don’t care.)


I have tried, oh how I have tried, to impress upon them the need for names that will inspire awe, respect, and fear in those around them. Long have I struggled to make them understand that the names Derekina and Dereketta are perfectly valid names for girls, and any set of twins would be lucky to have them. When these suggestions were shot down, I brought out the proverbial big guns.



“Valkyrie,” I said. “And Tanith.”


My sister looked at me, shaking her head, unwilling to even contemplate the greatness these names would bestow. Her husband looked at me, bewildered, for that is his natural state, and he does it well.


(I told you I do not CARE, Will.)


I think “Valkyrie” is a wonderful name for a girl. What girl out there wouldn't like to be called this? It is truly impressive, and would spur the owner of the name to feats of heroism and bravery in the face of insurmountable odds. My sister claimed that the only reason I wanted the twins named thusly was because I saw a chance for a set of living, breathing advertisements for my books. This is not wholly untrue, but it was marginally hurtful.


I assure you, dear blog reader, that if the twins had been a set of boys, I would have been equally voracious about my attempts to have them named “Skulduggery” and “Ghastly”, for that is my level of dedication to my work.


I informed my agent of the joyous news regarding the pink splodgy babies, and she remarked how life may well begin to imitate rather well-written art- providing my younger sister has a baby girl in a few months time. Then THAT girl would grow up, like Valkyrie, with a set of twins for cousins and a writer for an uncle. Could she be destined for greatness? Could she have a dark and mysterious path to follow? Am I going to be murdered, only to return to the story as a slightly annoying recording somewhere?


Probably.


Personally, I think my younger sister is going to have a boy. In fact, even if she has a girl, I will treat the child like a boy until the child is fourteen, at which time I shall pretend she is invisible, just to see how that affects her mind. It should be funny, at the very least.


The names, by the way, for the twins. Rebecca and Emily. Lovely names. They’ll grow up adoring me, which is only right.


I leave now, with the news that the twins are not the only additions to the Landy clan. Tomorrow I shall be picking up two Staffordshire Bull Terriers from the Pound. They are aged nine and eleven, both so old and arthritic they can barely move. I simply do not know why I am adopting these completely useless dogs. Could they defend the house from burglars? Only if the burglars move really, really slowly, and were afraid of being licked to death. The older one is so arthritic her front legs are literally turned inwards, so she trips herself up when she walks. Amusing.


Their names, by the way, were not chosen by me. The nine year old is Sherlock. A fine name. The eleven year old is Mable. I am seriously considering changing it to Murder, or Madhead, in a vain effort not to appear to be a ninety year old woman. 

Saturday, January 16, 2010

OH MY GOD!

Will SOMEBODY, please, for the LOVE OF WHATEVER GOD YOU BELIEVE IN, just TELL ME how to change the TYPEFACE?!

EVERYTHING I POST IS IN A COMPLETELY DIFFERENT FONT!!

Random Replies to Random People



Today I shall be addressing comments. Yes, comments- the things I asked you not to leave and yet you CONTINUE TO DEFY ME!


Ahem.


I read all the comments, if for no other reason than to curse the day you ever sat down at your computer, but I don’t have the time to respond to them- which is why you comment leavers are getting a blog entry all to yourselves.


Aren’t you special?


People ask about the movie a lot. And I mean, a LOT. An insane amount of my valuable time is taken up answering this question. (Actually an even more insane amount of my valuable time is taken up eating cheese, but answering this question comes a close second...). All I can say is that there is no news on the movie yet, and so no news of any auditions. If and when we have good news, I will let you know, so that you may start to worship me as a god of some sort. Possibly with offerings of cheese.


Some minions want me to read their fanfiction, but the sad truth is, if I read ONE minion’s fanfiction, I will have no excuse not to read ANOTHER minion’s fanfiction, and then I will spend my DAYS reading fanfiction, and not actually writing anything, and my head would explode. Especially if I found some fanfiction that was BETTER than the books, in which case I would have to track down that particular minion and DESTROY him/her/it. I could do it, you know. I have special ninja-leprechaun powers. Oh yes.


There are some of you out there who have defended Transformers 2 and Van Helsing, claiming that they are actually “good” films. Allow me a moment to laugh at your small, small brains. Van Helsing is a TRAVESTY of a film and should be put down immediately. It’s not fun, it’s not energetic, it’s just BAD. And as for Transformers 2... I saw the first one and I thought, there is no way the sequel could be worse. I was wrong. I was so, so wrong.


Strangely, though, absolutely no one has left me a comment defending GI Joe, and for that, you have my grudging respect.


Video games get the occasional mention in the comments. I have both played and loved the Metal Gear Solid series, and Modern Warfare. I did laugh, however, at the comment from the girl whose parents thought a PS2 guitar would work with a Wii. Old people are so funny with the stupid things they think...


Someone, by the way, has DARED to mention the possibility that I come across as “arrogant” in this Blog. Pffft! Is it “arrogance” to KNOW that I am simply superior? Is it “arrogance” to BEHAVE like we have all accepted this fact? Is THAT “arrogance”? IS IT?


Oh. Oh, well in that case, yes, I suppose I AM arrogant. And you can’t tell me you don’t love it.


Evidently, there are some comic readers out there. Deadpool and Fullmetal Alchemist, eh? I read neither, but probably should read both. I’m a big Spider-Man fan, love the Avengers, Kick-Ass is wonderful, and Hellboy is sublime. Basically, I love any comic that is written by someone who is better than me. Reading this stuff just fills me with enthusiasm to do even better myself- the same reaction I get after reading a good book or watching a great film.


In my own way I... I suppose I kind of hope to have the same effect on somebody else. That, maybe, hopefully, one of you out there, my minions, will read something I’ve written and then, fired up with creativity and energy, you will go and create your OWN work, and it will be glorious to behold. Maybe you’ll draw a comic, or make a movie, or write a book, and it’s all because you once read Skulduggery Pleasant...


Of course, if you write a book and it beats me to the Number One spot in the Bestseller list, I will hunt you down with my ninja-leprechaun powers, and you will never be safe again.


EVER.


That is all.

Wednesday, January 6, 2010

ANOTHER FORMATTING CATASTROPHE


Incredibly, following the blog entry in which I asked everyone NOT to comment, I got the MOST comments of this blog’s short history. In which case, I must ask you, nay, DEMAND, that none of you, not ONE of you, send me any money at all. NO MONEY AT ALL, DO YOU HEAR?


Excellent.


A few of you sympathized with my bathmat and towel set, and such sympathies are appreciated in this, my time of need. The best present I got for Christmas, actually, was a mug with a one-eyed dog on the side. The one-eyed dog is called Betty, and she is- officially- Ireland’s Most Loved Dog ™. She even won a competition for the title. The reason I now own a mug with her slightly puzzled-looking face on the side is because Betty went missing right before the competition was held, and I went out, bravely and with no thought to my own personal safety, and found her and brought her back to my good friend Laura. We are now bonded. Me and Betty, that is, not me and Laura. Although if Laura went missing and I went out and found HER, I’m sure we’d be bonded too.


I’m not sure what I’m talking about anymore.


I still don’t know how to blog correctly. Have you noticed the discrepancy between the size of the font in the first few entries and the LAST few? This is because THEY have allowed me to attain some degree of control over this ridiculous blogging enterprise. Unfortunately, the control they have allowed me is control over font size, and I have no idea how to work that particular control. I have instructions, but I have read none of these, and instead I have trusted in the Universe, in Fate, in the almighty Force, to guide my hand.


And judging by the lack of effectiveness, I now believe Fate to be a myth, the Force to be imaginary, and I’m starting to doubt that the Universe even exists.


It’s a brand new year, of course. I am, as you can probably tell, unimaginably thrilled by the whole thing. I am thrilled by the amount of work I will have to do, and the sheer amount of hours I will have to sit in airports. This year I’ll even get to sit in airports I’ve never sat in before. I’ll be able to sit in an airport in Hong Kong, a couple in Australia, and at least one in New Zealand. Won’t that be fun?


You know, I’m not altogether sure I like 2010, which got off to a slow start. I tend not to go out on New Year’s Eve, and I tend not to want to talk to anyone, so I stayed at home and I wrote. This little tradition started after I went through four or five months of being unable to write anything even remotely good, back in 2007. I finally wrote something BRILLIANT on New Year’s Eve, and kept writing through midnight. Since then, it is one of the few traditions I have- start the year as you mean to go on. 


It’s also a great way of declining party invitations. I turned down TWO this time around. It was brilliant. I mean, really, why would I want to go to a party and talk to people I have no interest in? I’d just end up scowling and insulting everyone. Which is what I do every Saturday night ANYWAY.


So I wrote some Skulduggery, and I have to admit, what I wrote was genius. I don’t like to brag, but when no one is around to do it for me, I am forced to. The chapter I wrote was both tense and funny, but also uniquely touching, in a way only truly great writers can achieve. Writers like Hemingway, Tolstoy, Joyce, and Dan Brown, these writers WISH they were as good as me.


I’m joking, by the way. The first three on that list are dead, so they’re not wishing much of anything these days. And the last one is rubbish.


So far, 2010 has been pretty cold and the roads have been pretty bad, which means I haven’t been able to go into town to buy my precious comics, which always puts me in a foul mood. Have you noticed, also, that 2010 SMELLS funny? It does, doesn’t it? It smells faintly of 2004 and old cabbage.


But no, I shall remain positive. No matter the obstacles in my path, I shall overcome, and I shall enjoy a prosperous new year, full of creativity and fun. Fun, I say! And also I shall buy more toys.


Now leave me alone. And remember, SEND ME NO MONEY, MINIONS.