Samhain Publishing

With the harried holidays facing us down like a speeding bus, I decided instead of blogging, to offer something of infinitely more value. Behold: my secret recipe for Oven Baked French Toast. An easy to make breakfast treat that feeds a crowd, saves you time in the morning, and will give you Kitchen God status with your guests. It’s similar to a breakfast strata, but all french toasty goodness. Enjoy, and have a safe, sane, and enjoyable holiday season.

Oven Baked French Toast
(For 9 X 13 inch pan)

Ingredients:
1-1/2 loaves egg challa (works best), potato bread, or French or Italian in loaf form uncut
2-4 tablespoons cinnamon (1 – 2 to the liquid mix, the other one or two you sprinkle as you layer the bread pieces – add more or less to taste, but no less than one in liquid mix and 1 in sprinkle on dry bread)
4 – 6 large eggs (4-5 seems to be optimal. The more eggs, the more custardy the final product.)
3 cups milk (or 2 cups ½ and ½ and 1 cup heavy cream – this works better)
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
Optional:
2 teaspoon almond extract OR
3 – 6 tablespoons flavored liquor (biscotti, frangelico, amaretto, or any almond or nut based) You may need more depending on the taste you like.

Directions:
1 day prior or 1 morning prior to making, cut loaf into 1 inch slices and layer on pan or table to make stale.

When bread is stale, tear it into chunk sized pieces (one inch plus). Some will have crust, some are without.

Grease baking pan. Put in torn bread chunks at a ratio of about 3/5 without crust, 2/5 with. Too much crust is too dense.

Mix liquid ingredients together, and add cinnamon (up to 2 teaspoons) reserve the other 2 for sprinkle on top.

Do an initial bread layer. Add cinnamon sprinkle. Layer in more bread for top layer, and repeat.

Pour over the bread in pan, and mush down with spoon to get some soak through. Tamp down, add more liquid, making sure to get around the pan as even as possible.

Sprinkle more cinnamon on top.

Cover with foil or saran wrap, and refrigerate over night.

Next morning, remove from fridge and let sit for 30 minutes.

Preheat oven to 425.

Place in center rack and cook as follows: If metal/teflon/non stick or aluminum, 35-40 minutes then test. You may need to keep cooking depending on how well the fridge chill eased off or held. You go in 10 minute increments then, testing with the knife. When it’s done, the top is a dark crispy golden brown, and you will get a little of the stuff on the knife, but not glops of it. Just trace amounts. It’s about 30 – 35 minutes if you’re using a disposable foil pain. IMPORTANT: the last 10 minutes, when you’re brown, and there’s just a bit more left to cook, you want to turn the oven down to about 375 so you don’t burn the top. Basically, after the first forty minutes, you need to watch, since the density of bread, your fridge’s ability to cool, and pan, all impact. *Try not to use glass. Taking glass from the fridge, you’ll need to let it sit longer than 30 minutes, and if you put cold glass in a hot oven it is likely to crack.

Even for a non stick pan, a light coat of crisco goes a long way.

When done cooking, let cool for about 5 minutes, then slice into bricks and serve, treating just like french toast.

Enjoy, and have a safe, sane, and enjoyable holiday season!

Ursula Bauer
The Eternity Covenant Series…Eternity Never Looked So Good!
www.UrsulaBauer.com
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I started to write this about where I get ideas because recently I’ve had a lot of people questioning me on writing and how I get from nothing to a finished book out for submission or into publication. Instead, I realized, there’s something better than where you find ideas, and far more important. Its not so much where you get ideas from as it is what you do with them when you find them that counts. I figured, rather than write about elements of creativity, I’d drill right down onto process. That’s where Magic Number 5 comes into play.

Ideas abound. Everywhere you look. Nothing new under this sun. So how do you keep your stuff fresh? If there’s nothing new, how do you make your work stand out? You take a page from an artists book. I’ve heard this a number of times from different sources in different ways, but all were visual media artisans of some sort.

The premise of five starts when you come up with a good idea.

Step one. You refine it a bit. Don’t go with that. EVERYONE has already come up with that plan. So stretch it out a bit. How far and how much? Five times. Go for five steps removed, so it’s the backwards version of Six Steps to Kevin Bacon.
Go back to that brilliant idea five times, and do five permutations, taking each one a little further and a little more far out. After the fifth, walk away. Just do it. Put all your stuff aside for at least 24 hours. Then, you can head back to it. Anything you come up with after that will contain the essence of what you were working with but be removed enough to contain some very original twists. As a result, your work will stand out as innovative, instead of merely derivative.

Give it a try the next time you brain storm. Results will be surprising.

Ursula Bauer
www.UrsulaBauer.com

I’ve found over the years people say some strange things when they hear you’re a writer. Sometimes funny. Sometimes a little crazy. Other writers I’ve talked to have similar experiences. Last night in my crit group we were sharing some of them, and I decided to pass them along. These are the things that sort of make you take pause, and challenge you to find a professional way to respond. Some come from family members, some from friends and acquaintances, others from total strangers. All of these are preceded with something to the effect of : “I’m a writer. What do I write? Romance Novels…”

10) A writer? Really? And your books sell? (At a management training seminar, and then 2 years later from a neighbor at a ‘get to know your neighbors’ cocktail party)

9) When I heard you’d written and got published, I told myself, well If she can do it, I sure can. (From a ‘frenemy’)

You know, I have an interesting life. I should write a book about it. (From multiple strangers, acquaintances and family members)

7) You know, I have an interesting life. You should write a book about it. (From multiple strangers, acquaintances and family members)

6) Will you tell my (insert convoluted relationship here)’s cousin how to break into the business? (Multiple sources)

5) That’s great. Here, take my poetry and read it. (Numerous sources)

4 ) That’s great. Let me read you my poetry. (Followed by the person producing said poetry and launching into a dramatic reading. No lie. With other people sitting around. Stranger met that night at a cocktail party.)

3) How about I tell you my ideas and you write the book? I can’t put a sentence together. (From a family member.)

2) I used to love romances. Then I got married. Now I know the truth. (Acquaintance)

AND NUMBER ONE GOES TO:
1) I was a writer once. I wrote a book. The Canadian Park Police stole it when I was camping in a national forest. (Total stranger)

Now it’s obvious to me that the idea of being a writer holds a certain mystique for folks…what have your experiences been when someone says those immortal words, “I hear you’re a writer…”?

Ursula Bauer
www.UrsulaBauer.com

I’m thrilled that my second book in The Eternity Covenant series, Immortal Illusions, is now available in print at all your favorite booksellers! I hope everyone has as great a time reading it as I had writing it. Drop by www.UrsulaBauer.com for more information on The Eternity Covenant and all the players in The Game.

IMMORTAL ILLUSION (Eternity Covenant Book 2):
Outcast sorcerer Jack Madden has waited fifty years to take revenge against the Council of Wardens for wrongly convicting him of a crime, binding his powers beyond repair. When the Council turns to him to help retrieve four missing arcane artifacts, Jack decides it’s his best shot at vengeance. And Raine Spencer—fearful of her power and clueless about how to use it—is his perfect mystical surrogate and mark.

Raine loyally serves the Council of Wardens as a top Occult Operations Analyst, but she longs to take the sacred oath and become a knight. With the taint of Elven blood in her veins, she has a snowball’s chance in hell of making that dream a reality—until she is chosen by “Mad Jack” to act as a mystical surrogate.

Raine is ready to face down her fear of her wild Elven side, and team up with the most unprincipled scoundrel to ever haunt the halls of the Council of Wardens.

But is she ready to pay the price with her heart?

Excerpt:

Before Raine or the woman could blink, Jack launched the freaky dagger. It hit the woman square in the chest. The visage faded, and she collapsed. By the time she hit the floor, the human cover was gone, and in its place laid the corpse of a blue-skinned demoness. Raine had never encountered this strain of demon, neither in life or in study. The scope of darkness that Jack seemed comfortably a part of was nothing less than shocking. The dagger faded from view, treated no doubt, with more magic, to return to him. He was a sorcerer, she reminded herself. His trade was magic. Even with his powers bound, he was drenched in the stuff. So was she. Still, it repulsed her.

Jack did more voodoo over the laptop, sprinkling it with a pinch of smelly green herbs, before he closed it up, and stuffed it into a hidden pocket inside that crazy frock coat he liked to wear. “I probably should have warned you earlier. All the magic’s going to put you in a state. You may experience dizziness, nausea, and heightened sexual arousal. Try not to fight any of it, it will pass. You don’t realize it, but you and I are both soaking up ambient energy that will help us retrieve the artifacts. The side effects are worth the price, don’t you think?”

Fear made her mouth too dry to speak. Blatant lust made her blood thick. And her thighs wet. All he’d described so far had happened, but she didn’t think the sexual arousal was solely the fault of the magic. He bore the brunt of the blame for that. Jack chilling out was enough to set the world on fire. Seeing him in the thick of action, all wild and edgy, was pure sex.

“How do you stand it?” she croaked.

“How can you live without it?” he countered.

I asked myself today, what to write a blog on? I was watching Bones, and episode where Cindi Lauper is a psychic. So I figured, there’s my inspiration. I’ve read cards for well over 20 years, and use them for inspiration, so why not pick a topic that way. I went to www.facade.com, selected a deck, the three card spread, and go with it. So, eight of pentacles, King of Swords, and The Sun, for me translated into working physically and mentally to effect a change and manifest a skill or talent at a higher level. The King, the pivot point, asks us, what are we willing to lay in to get where we want to go, because the King of Swords is a disciplined character who will go to the boards and give up whatever is necessary to achieve an end. So this is really a message of more than simple growth – this is the universe saying give it your all and all if it will come back your way, ten thousand fold.

I like writing heroes with that particular make up. Guys who will pull out all the stops. I don’t like books or shows where the hero is too angst ridden over decision making. He may take pause, but he does what he needs to do because someone has to do it, because it’s necessary, because it’s hard but it’s right. And I think that’s what allows them to come to the end of the road, reborn, as the Sun indicates, but in a higher and more evolved form – you know, the kind of form that can have a happily ever after with the heroine.

I think in our own lives, particularly the creative realm, we sometimes must emulate these hard core boys. So often, success is just five seconds more of struggle, the fifth idea as opposed to ideas one through four. Maybe it’s junking chapters 1 – 3 and restarting with a cleaner idea, a more scaled back approach to get to the essence. It’s hard to get rid of what you create, but the eight tells us we must perfect, and sometimes that means getting rid of practice models in favor of the evolved product. Other times, it’s writing when you don’t feel like writing and would rather day dream, or vacuum or change the little box: Gods – do anything other than face another blank page.

In Immortal Protector, Gideon started out as two people. Seth started out as a heel, but redeemed himself. Left as the heel, the book wasn’t working, so I had to hit the boards again and rework to evolve.

In Immortal Illusions, scene after ass kicking scene was cut prior to submission to an editor because as cool as they were, they had zero impact on the story. Once again, I had a major heel, who turned heroic at the last possible moment. The story called for it, so I had to cowboy up and get it done.

In my latest work in progress, I had to take what was essentially two stories wrapped up in about forty thousand words, and split them into two books. The hero was made harder, the heroine sharper.

And writing when you can come up with a million excuses to do otherwise? Writers, I want you to picture that King of Swords, blade poised, ruthless in pursuit of what he desires. I want you to remember what you desire – to bring peace to the voices in your head, to get the story to page, to make your reader sigh in delight as she is transported to a world of happily ever after. Anything worth the price, is worth the fight. That is my message to whomever chances to read this post, the message the universe wanted to put out there: Give yourself permission to be hardcore and get it done. Give yourself over to your inner hard core hero/heroine, and it will take you as far as you allow.

I went to see one of my psychics this past Saturday. Among other things she told me, “Ursula, things are really looking good for you and your husband in the near future. Life’s about to kick into high gear, and go superfast. The pace is going to really pick up and in two years you are going to look back and wonder where the time went.” Well, since I’m looking back on the previous week wondering what happened to it, and where the time that supposedly is allotted for a week went, because I felt shortchanged, I was a little rattled. Then, the reading goes on to other things, ultimately concludes, and I go outside, where my husband is waiting placidly on a wicker bench watching traffic in a sleepy upstate NY town amble by. “So,” he says in that easy going way he has, “anything interesting?” I sit down heavily beside him. “Life’s about to kick into high gear, and go super fast for the next two years.” He nods, his expression inscrutable as he considers this tidbit from the spirit world. Then he gets this tight frown and shakes his head. “Great, now I’m going to need to start doing Meth to keep up with my life.”

Now, dh is not a druggie. He’s as straight an arrow as they come. But he’s onto something. I have to say, our life’s been running at breakneck pace, so I am left wondering: what exactly will super fast look like in comparison, and how we will muster up more speed to get with the new program? And I bet I am not the only person amongst us who is wondering that. Everyone, it seems, is busy to the point of distraction. I think I’m noticing this now because it’s June, and in a few short weeks, one half of 2009 shall be gone. Vanished into the sunset of the past. The year always starts off with goals and promise for many, but I find myself more contemplative come mid-year. What has transpired so far? Where have I come with my life and goals? Where do I seem to be heading? Do I need a course correction, or am I good to go, at least for another few months? And if I need a course correction, am I in a position to make that correction, or need I wait for a better time?

When you run at full tilt boogie twenty four seven, it’s hard to draw yourself up to a stop for a moment, and re-engage with what’s important to you, as a person, and determine if you’re able to make some of that important stuff happen. I think more often than not, we find ourselves getting caught in the drift, and we’re so darned busy we can’t seem to even see that we’ve let go of the truly important, for the things that seemed to scream the loudest, or dominate our list of ‘must do’.

When I used to do Tarot readings in my metaphysical shop, I would often have people with readings where the clear message from spirit was this: “Stop letting everyone else’s priorities become your own. That angst you feel is what happens when your own needs go unmet, and your own dreams and desires take a back seat to everything and everyone else who thinks they own a piece of you. Take back your time. Even if you need to do it in increments.” I think of this now, and I think, too, about a life a friend of mine is trying to create for herself. She calls it La Dolce Vida, the Sweet Life, where there is time to visit a farmer’s market, have tea with a friend, spend moments of time on things of great personal value, set goals and reach them with small, measured, well paced steps, as opposed to jumping on the hamster wheel and spinning till you burn.

So now, with June up and running, I put this out to you, reader, a challenge if you will. Stop the busy, the doing, the race into oblivion, for just ten minutes. Go somewhere quiet: a garden, a park, a bathroom where you can lock out the kids. Give yourself those precious moments to be, to reflect, to touch base again with your own internal agenda, regardless of all the demands that compete for your all too limited time. Assess where you’ve come, and re-plot the course if necessary. Then, every now and again, steal away for another breather. Give yourself a few minutes of La Dolce Vida, and let the second half of the year bloom to life. Give yourself the break you know you deserve, and enjoy.

As for myself, I am taking my few moments, for certain, as I ready to complete the next leg in my journey as an author. No rest for the wicked, they say, but I’ll get a few in before the fates catch me and drag me back to the land of the Immortals and the games of the Eternity Covenant.

Ursula
www.UrsulaBauer.com

What do shapeshifters, zombies behaving badly, a hot man in leather pants, a demon horde, a doctor in dire straits, and a bunch of untrustworthy mythic Gods have in common? Immortal Protector, my first book in the Eternity Covenant series. And it’s out in print! Below is an excerpt. If you like what you see, check out the first chapter over on my website (www.UrsulaBauer.com), and read more about Gideon Sinclair – a hero who’ll do whatever it takes, no matter how extreme, to win the game. Eternity Never Looked So Good!!!!!

“So, Doc, do you believe?”

Meg licked her dry lips. “You can’t expect me to believe in immortality.”

“Take a moment, think of everything you’ve seen tonight. Does it add up to any reality you’re aware of?” He sat down on the edge of the big bed and the mattress groaned beneath his bulk. “Have you ever seen the like? Of me, or them?”

The horrific scenes played through her mind, the macabre creatures, Gideon’s stabbing and survival.

“I’m a doctor. A scientist.” Her brain turned over the scenes again and again, and reason attempted and failed to supply answers. “There is no such thing as immortality.”

“There is.” He reached back onto the bed, grabbed his black T-shirt and shrugged into it, taking away the spectacular view. “There’s magic. There’s old Gods. There’s feuds, wars, demons, creatures that go bump in the night. Boogey men exist. Nightmares are real. So am I, and I’m one of the guys who makes the dark a safer place. I’m one of the guys who works to keep the shadows to themselves, so the average mortal can go on with life and never worry to much about what’s really lurking just one step behind and slightly out of focus.”

“I can’t accept that, Mr. Sinclair.” If she did, it meant everything she thought she knew was suspect. It meant the anchor of science that kept her life from casting adrift was gone and that she was floating now in a storm she couldn’t control or even begin to understand. There was nothing Meg hated more than being out of control. “Please, let me go. Let me go home, I’ll forget all of this. I won’t tell the authorities.”

He cracked that half grin again, giving his harsh visage a suddenly boyish look. Then, before her very eyes, he faded into mist. The mist rose and swirled around her, carrying that scent she first experienced when she opened her balcony door to the sultry night. Every nerve in her body flared to life. Her skin electrified as the mist danced across her like a light, silken rain. Heat pooled low in her belly and for a moment she forgot her situation and surrendered to the delicious, alien sensation.

When the air around her thinned, she opened her eyes. He stood before her, looking down at her with hooded, sleepy eyes. “Still don’t believe?”

“You’re impossible,” she breathed, her throat tight and dry, her body hot and wet. “This is crazy.”

“I couldn’t agree more. But it’s the truth.” He reached out and brushed her cheek with his knuckle. “I’m immortal and I’m the only chance you have at staying alive in a very nasty, very deadly game.”

Mad Jack Madden, the man from Immortal Illusions was a great hero to write. Balls to the wall, a sinful, sexy rouge who never said ‘die’. He talked trash, played the game like a master, and knew his way around women. My modern rake, he really showed me a good time. And Gideon Sinclair, from Immortal Protector? Dark, daring, and dangerously hot. My first hero, he was a challenge I’ll never forget.

You’d think I could show some loyalty, but right now I’m too busy wondering about that next man. Call me fickle, and you might be right. But you must admit, there’s something to be said for the novelty of masculine mystery, the allure of enigma, and the certain promise of passion found on untried ground.

I think that’s one of the things I really enjoy about reading, and writing romance. Love abounds. Over and over, you get to relive the thrill of the hunt, and savor the bliss of the fall. Each time from a new angle, with a fresh twist.

You wonder: who will he be, this new hero of mine?

Is he an All American blonde with a killer smile and bedroom eyes, or the dark man of mystery hell bent on seduction? Will he sear your soul with a single, inescapable glance that melts you where you stand? Is his voice rough, or smooth, or a pleasurable mix of both? When he stands beside you, does the air charge? Can you feel his heat wash over you as he lingers, just inches away, far closer than is proper for people who are not intimate? You’ll wonder: does he realize he’s in my personal space? Is he doing this unknowingly, or by design? Did he hold my gaze, my hand, a bit too long, or did I imagine it all because my libido is torqued to the max and ready to snap me in two?

You won’t get the answer directly, his eyes are inscrutable, his actions quixotic and mysterious. Maybe he’s doing it, knowing he’ll pay a price later on, but he just can’t resist. Even if he can’t touch, it’s so close, it might as well be skin to skin. And when he can touch, he takes his time even though convention dictates otherwise, because it feels so damn good.

He’ll make your breath hitch in your throat. Sometimes, he’ll catch you with that stare, and you’ll wonder, where could this go if I let it? And is hell to pay too big a price? You start out thinking yes, but the more time you spend in his deliciously wicked company, the more you think, sure, I’ll pay hell, I’ll give up the world, chuck everything I own out the damn window, if it ensures that toe curling kiss is followed by more of the same. So close for so long, you can’t help but give into the attraction and all else falls away.

Is he laconic, or mouthy? Mad cap, mad, maddening? That kiss: was it lazy, demanding, tender, possessive? And what kind of lover will he be? Slow, and sure, taking his time to make time, knowing things about you even you didn’t know? Or will he come on strong, and fast and hard, burning every well planned defense to dust, pushing you so beyond every wild limit you’re consumed and reborn a thousand times in his blaze? Either way, he’ll blow your mind, so everyone wins.

Yes: Everyone wins.

That’s the best part. No matter who he is, what skin he walks in, how he deals out that first kiss, and every one there after, we all go home happy.

And some people think romance sucks.

Weenies.

My 106 year old house is haunted. There’s a guy in denim work clothes who stays mostly in the basement, where I don’t go. I caught a glimpse of him the first fall we lived here. We also hear him or deal with his antics when too much work goes on in the basement. Doors open that should stay closed, for instance. Which explains why, when we moved into the house, the door to the basement, and the upstairs level and living room all had chain locks. The regular ones don’t work when the basement guy is pissed. And there’s Ghost Kitty. She’s grey and playful and has showed herself to many of our surprised visitors who mistake her for our cat. Our corporeal cat is far larger, more sedentary, and haunts the vicinity directly in front of the upstairs radiator. She never comes out to see visitors, unless it’s to hiss at them and shoo them away.

I also happen to use my kitchen table to do Tarot readings for friends and the few select clients I saved from a once bustling practice in psychic advising. I’ve used the three season porch and back room for them too, but the vibe is best in my kitchen. I think because the old hearth, though boarded up, opens into that space. Or maybe it’s all the orange tea pots on the wall paper. What ever generates the vibe in the house, or stirs up the spirits, it boils down to one thing: I’m no stranger to the paranormal. These and many other similar anecdotes may be the influences that drive me to write in the contemporary paranormal romance genre. And why I read heavily in it as well.

Used to be, paranormal fare was limited to a few books, and a TV show here or there. But lately, it’s everywhere I turn. In particular, Paranormal has turned the tube into this fantastic, great big paranormal pot luck. Spin the dial, chances are good it will stop on paranormal entertainment of some kind. From Psych, USA Network’s dark farce about a slacker with keen observation skills turned police psychic to Lifetime’s America’s Psychic Challenge, a reality based competition between selected psychics such as mediums, clairvoyants and clairaudients, all striving to be last psychic standing, there’s something for just about everyone. Even I’ve been impacted: or, my characters, by the psychic groove. My next book, Immortal Illusions, features a hero and heroine who use a form of psychometry and clairsentience to retrieve missing arcane artifacts while outwitting enemies bent on destroying the dimension. Sure they toss in a good does of magic, but primarily, they surf the psychic waves to find what they need and get the job done.

The bounty, however, doesn’t stop with the psychics. The boundaries have been pushed, perhaps even cut. Ghost Whisperer, a long time favorite, now has it’s reality version, a medium named Lisa Williams on (again) Lifetime, doing on-the-spot ghost contacts. Speaking of ghosts, there’s any number of ghost hunting teams scouring spooky sights. Court TV had Psychic Detective, and now does sporadic special crime / psychic matching shows. Last, but not least, we have the A Team of the modern age: hunters facing off against the things that go bump in the night, and basically, bumping them right back and off. Shows like Supernatural (WB), Bloodties (Lifetime), Moonlight (CBS), and Torchwood (BBC America) feature boogeyman squads out there fighting on the edge, keeping the real world safe for us unsuspecting mere mortals and earthlings. I for one couldn’t be happier.

Yet it leads me to wonder, what is really driving the sudden explosion of paranormal, beyond the books? TV tends to have high production costs, yet, the appetite of the public seems insatiable enough to support such diverse and sometimes, bizarre shows. It’s not just a handful of us anymore, ordering and grabbing up every book with a funky cover and promises of a walk on the wild, and wicked side.

I think there are two explanations. One, these stories have always been around, happening in our lives. Everyone has stories of times they knew something before it happened, of a favorite aunt who just happens to use the Ouija board with great success, of an old house where they lived where the dead might have lived side by side as well. There’s enough of us with these, and enough open consciousness in society, that these stories are now stepping up side by side with the regular fare, and taking in the lime light at last. I also think it represents a societal meta-theme: there is a whole bunch we know about our universe, but in reality, there’s way more we don’t know, don’t understand, or don’t want to even contemplate. And as much of that stuff we don’t know, there’s as much about ourselves that we don’t know, until we’re called to action.

We have these skills to whisper to ghosts, see signs and interpret portends, stand up for the muster and hold the shield wall against the things that lurk in the dark and shadows. We have the stuff of heroes inside, and all our anecdotes and family stories are the smoke hinting at that fire we all possess. Along with our hidden potential, we also have hope. Hope that no matter how far out, freaky or frightening, there will be someone among us who can and will cowboy up when the boogeyman decides to throw down.

As enjoyable as the TV fare has been lately, and the reading fare has always been, I have to admit, I’m more of a sucker for the good old fashioned first hand, second hand told round the fire or over jelly jar cocktails at a friend’s house kind of story. That ‘there I was, in the Congo, when the ghost kitty appeared to me and tried to trip me up’ stuff. So how about you guys? Any theories on why the genre has bust wide open? Any good ghost stories, or anecdotes of the odd and odder you’d like to share?

Grace Slick sang about feeding your head in the song White Rabbit.
I think she was on to something.

Writers are often required to stretch limits, push boundaries, asked to stay fresh and cutting edge, while still giving the audience of readers what they will enjoy.

One of the ways to stay out on that edge involves the snacks you give to your senses. What foods do you indulge in? Are you sampling from the same buffet as the majority? Or do you have a few exotic items on that menu? An out of the way little restaurant, off the beaten path, where you occasionally bring your imagination to feast?

One of my favorite snacks, a mainstay of Saturday movie nights at my household and a major ingredient in my novel Immortal Protector: foreign films. Primarily Asian Cinema. To list all the great flicks would take more time and space then we have here today, but I’m going to toss out a few for you adventurous folk to get started on, if you want to try something to jazz your palate.

My husband is a big movie buff, and this is where I first got my exposure. We watched Chow Yun Fat and Sammo Hung gangster, action and caper movies. We viewed offerings from such edgy directors as Ringo Lam and John Woo. These guys heavily influenced American film heavies like Quentin Tarantino and Robert Rodriguez, both individuals known for non-linear story telling, deft use of heroic (both light and dark) iconic characters, take no prisoners action, and seductive out-of-the-box dialogue that was so weird, it resonated on a powerful level with viewers. Here on our side of the ocean, Tarantino and Rodriguez are lauded because they step beyond the norm. Who knew what pirates they were?

But I can hardly blame them. I did some of the same pirating. Watching spectacular action, seeing interplay between heroes, found it’s way into my own story telling. One thing that I love in many of the Asian films we see is the handling of hero, heroic vs. non-heroic, and honor. Many times you’ll have two male leads, in theory on opposite sides of an ideological divide (if not outright cop and robber), yet both connect because they have a deep sense of what is honorable vs. dishonorable. The villains are found on both the criminal and lawful side of the divide. It’s not unusual for your hero policeman to be fighting villains, his team members, the police, corruption in the system, and criminal masterminds…only to find a kindred spirit in some of the folks he wars with. And the hero, no matter his job (cop, or robber, in the simplest terms), is forced constantly to make difficult choices, perform difficult actions, and live with difficult circumstances as a result of those – each time demonstrating just how heroic they are. This is true for male and female leads. It was so easy to fall for these action oriented, take no prisoners, go to the edge for what you believe, heroes. And when I wrote Gideon, for Immortal Protector, I envisioned him as that hero. Make the hard choice, do the right thing, don’t whine about, just get on about your business, and keep on taking care of business. You don’t see that so often in American flicks, at least, not to the stark level you do in the Asian action dramas.

The settings fall away often times, as complex stories evolve, and draw you in, despite the fact you have to read subtitles. It’s not unusual for an Asian flick to seem like two stories in one. You’ll view half the movie, it seems to end, and another, deeper movie begins. You’ll also have mixed genres. One of my favorite movies is a dark action drama comedy love story. Talk about boundary stretching! It’s called Guns and Talks, and it’s a Korean flick about four young professional assassins who are at the top of the assassin game, and are total screw ups at all other aspects of life. It’s a well done movie, with a very off beat approach to story telling, appealing characters, crazy action, and laugh out loud scenes and situations.

There are heavy cultural message and overtones as well. Those come clear the more you watch and immerse yourself in the medium. There are interesting interplays between the sexes. There is much darkness, action, and unusual takes on life. And, there is Andy Lau. Not only a pop singer, this actor is incredibly versatile, and prolific. His movies run from screwball comedies to deep action. Favorite so far: Running on Karma. Andy plays a monk who leaves the monastic life, and indulges in all the sins of the flesh and ego, to escape a curse: his ability to see someone’s past life as a signal that their current life is about to end. In a flesh pit in Hong Kong, he becomes involved with a young female police officer who is the personification of honor, and all that is good and right with the world. He sees her past life, a Japanese soldier who slaughtered innocent Chinese. He tries again and again to keep her alive, hoping to avert the upcoming death. This leads him back to confront that death, as well as his past, and make peace with the Buddha inside and his own Karmic destiny. Deep, right? Well, get this: he starts the movie in a prosthetic muscle suit, as a male stripper named Big. Scene two, he’s running down a dark alley, but naked, police in pursuit. So yes, it is dramatic, and moving, with strong chemistry between two heroic characters, and at the same time it has these madcap moments you just can’t believe. Sort of like real life, in a way.

I watch these movies, out of the box for me and my cultural norm, yet I can connect with these archetypal themes at the same time. It all feeds my head, and comes out by giving me a fresh view and a fresh take on the tried and true.

So, what would I recommend from the menu?
Classics, with classic heroes, and foundation elements: Chow Yun Fat’s movies, anything by director John Woo.

Star Crossed Love Story with Mad Cap Edge: Drink, Drank, Drunk. Beer Girl hooks up with down and out French Chef, opens café by day, bistro by night, complete with nutty crime boss, freaky yet loyal friends, and lots of good old fashioned angst.

Andy Lau. Get his stuff, watch it, and enjoy.

Good old fashioned honor and dishonor among thieves and bodyguards complete with wild plot twists and turns, and full of hot, sexy leads: The Mission.

Actors to watch and love: Aaron Kwok, Andy Lau, Anthony Wong, Simon Yam, Ekin Cheng (almost as hot as Andy. Maybe hotter), Daniel Wu.

Good fun with sad love story and weird futuristic twist: For Bad Boys Only

Cops, Robbers, more Cops, and such: Heat Team.

Jackie Chan: he’s more than a funny martial arts guy: Police Story and the 10 years later sequel New Police Story. New Police Story will make you cry, so get out the Kleenex. It’s about breaking the cycle of violence. Amazing. Absolutely amazing.

You can get them all on NetFlix, and many at the local Block Buster. Just keep in mind that the descriptions are translations and don’t always match what the movie turns out to be. And that’s the other thing I really love: watching is always an adventure full of surprise. Who doesn’t like a surprise now and again?

Looking for something different to feed your head? Give the wild side of the menu a try. Sample some Asian cinema. It’s one of the ways I keep my imagination happy. There are a lot of other things that feed the need, but this is a mainstay.

How about all you good folks out there? Any favorite indulgences and snacks you like to sample, the things that feed your imagination, and keep it fresh, frisky, and dancing well outside the box?

Ursula

www.UrsulaBauer.com