Are your friends “raven” about your fan knowledge of Game of Thrones? Or, like Jon Snow, do you know nothing about George R.R. Martin’s fascinating world? Take our GOT challenge and find out just how well you know Westeros and its stars.

What song did they play at the “Red Wedding”?

a) The Eternal Duty of The Knights Watch
b) Wrecking Ball
c) The Rains OF Castamere
d) The Bear And The Maiden Fair

What is Tyrion Lannister the unofficial god of?

a) Cripples, Bastards and Broken Things
b) Tits and Wine
c) Dwarves, Drunkards and Unwanted Sons
d) Disco

What are the names of the Stark dire wolves?

a) Donner, Blitzen, Dasher, Prancer, Rudolph
b) Rebel, Standfast, Lady, Proudmane, Osha
c) Toto, Astro, Cujo, Benji, Lassie
d) Lady, Ghost, Summer, Nymeria, Shaggydog, Grey Wind

Why does Jon Snow “know nothing”?

a) He never knew his real mother
b) He didn’t finish high school
c) He doesn’t understand women
d) Internet connections in Westeros are spotty at best

What does the “R.R.” in Game of Thrones creator George R.R. Martin stand for?

a) Ronald Reagan
b) Raymond Richard
c) Ronald Reuel
d) Richard Ryan

What does “Valar Morghulis” mean?

a) Valour is its own reward
b) Do you want fries with that?
c) All men must die
d) We are the watchers on the Wall

What is Ned Stark’s sword made out of?

a) Mithril
b) Adamantium
c) Damascus iron
d) Valyrian steel

Complete this sentence: “the night is dark and full of …”

a) Candy
b) Terrors
c) Turnips
d) White walkers

What are the names of the Khaleesi’s three dragons?

a) Balerion, Vhagar, Meraxes
b) Sunfyre, Vermithrax, Ghiscar
c) Smaug, Toothless, Puff the Magic Dragon
d) Drogon, Rhaegal, Viserion

Who built The Wall?

a) Bran the Builder
b) The First Men
c) The Nights Watch
d) Pink Floyd

Answers: 1. C; 2. B; 3. D; 4. C; 5. B; 6. C; 7. D; 8. B. 9. D; 10. A.

10 right – Jon Snow
9 right – Tyrion Lannister
8 right – The Khaleesi
7 right – Cersei Lannister
6 right – Arya Stark
5 right – The Kingslayer
3-4 – Hodor
1-2 right – “Stupid” Ned
0 right – Reek

My ebook military thriller, The Spartan, is out now on Amazon.

Eight hundred years ago, on June 15, King John signed the Magna Carta, a groundbreaking document that enshrined basic freedoms, put limits on the power of the crown and paved the way for modern Western democracy.
On June 15, the season finale of the fifth season of George RR Martin’s epic saga Game Of Thrones premiered in Australia.
Thoughtful folk have quietly celebrated the anniversary of the Magna Carta. Yet more vociferous folk have taken to the internet to bemoan and bewail the events of the GOT finale, as if Martin had somehow broken the words of his own Magna Carta, that being his A Song Of Ice and Fire series.
However, I would argue that Martin’s Magna Carta is radically different to that of 1215; and the author has, in effect, as stuck as firmly to his own beliefs as we have internalised those of the Magna Carta. (FYI: There are no GOT spoilers in this piece.)
The Magna Carta said that the king was not above the law.
George RR Martin said that whoever sat on the Iron Throne was their own law.
The Magna Carta promised us peace.
George RR Martin offered us excitement.
The Magna Carta said that any man who had not broken the law could not have his liberty or property removed by the state.
George RR Martin said that any man, woman or king could have their liberty, property – and life – removed at any time.
Life in the time of the Magna Carta was nasty, brutish and short.
Life in the time of Game Of Thrones is nasty, brutish and short.
The Magna Carta gave us trial by jury.
George RR Martin gave us trial by mad monks, trial by combat – even trial by one’s own father.
The Magna Carta led to Westminster.
George RR Martin led us to Winterfell.
The Magna Carta gave us a world fit for nobility.
George RR Martin gave us a world fit for heroes.
The Magna Carta gave us habeas corpus.
George RR Martin gave us walking corpses.
The Magna Carta contains some of the most famous words in the world, words that have inspired millions and stood the test of time.
George RR Martin’s books contain some of the most famous words in the world, words that have inspired millions and have stood the test of time.
The Magna Carta changed the world.
George RR Martin changed fiction … and television.
Excitement. Adventure. A world fit for heroes. A cruel, brutish world untouched by the sentiments of the Magna Carta. Anyone who has read Martin’s books knows what to expect from his works and his world … and to be surprised at this point by what may happen smacks of a certain naivete. The unexpected death of Ned Stark (well, for those new to the books) in season one set the tone; not to expect more thorns among those delightful red roses is just wishful thinking.
To quote another venerable cultural artefact – Flying High – we, as viewers and readers, have bought our tickets; we knew what we were getting into.
We can’t now complain if the plane crashes.

My ebook military thriller, The Spartan, is out now on Amazon.

“Due to unforeseen circumstances” – actually they could have been foreseen. No one wanted to see the one-hit wonder/ageing pop star/disco dinosaur/hasbeen comic/rock relic on a superannuation top-up tour. There was no demand. Hence no one bought any tickets. That didn’t require a crystal ball. Thus management have wisely pulled the plug, saving the star the ego-crushing sight of seeing more than half of the room empty as they perform.
“Contract negotiations” – the act and promoter are possibly suing each other.
“Issues beyond our control” – they include lack of ticket sales; lack of appropriate rider (“what do you mean, you can’t supply dwarves walking around with trays of cocaine on their heads?”); diva/male diva (devo?) suddenly discovering the distance between Australia and the US (“20 hours on a plane for a few grand? Screw that”); the star being arrested on drugs charges; the performer’s latest album flopping in the charts, perhaps due to the performer’s radical, possibly jazz-themed “new direction”; or that no one has actually been able to reach the act for weeks.
“Tour not cancelled, merely postponed” – sometimes indefinitely. Also see “Madonna”.
“Scheduling conflicts” – this excuse is often used when an emerging star suddenly becomes massive after already committing to an Australian gig, which compels them to pull out and concentrate on bigger markets than Australia. Often the star will supply a quote – possibly written by a PR flunky – saying how they’re sorry for “disappointing their Australian fans” (or “Down Under fans” for added familiarity) and promise to tour there next year, by which time most people would have forgotten said promise.
“Conflict over facilities” – the ageing Grammy winner refuses to perform in an RSL. Or even Penrith Panthers.
“Visa issues”  – act possibly refused entry into Australia for prior criminal conviction.
“The timing isn’t right” – when the tour was originally booked the Australian dollar was worth $1US. Now at 77 cents, that substantially reduced paycheque is looking less attractive … particularly in light of the aforementioned 20-hour flight.
“Personal reasons” – the band all hate each other and refuse to share a tour coach, let alone share a stage.
“Performer plays jazz” – say no more. To quote Frank Zappa: “In rock you play three chords to 1000 people; in jazz you play 1000 chords to three people.”
“They need to spend time with their family” – this is the excuse politicians typically use when they are forced to resign due to sex scandals. “I deeply regret the pain I have caused to my wife and children after being pictured on page one with my face in a stripper’s lap. I hereby resign to spend more time with my family.”
“Personal circumstances” – can literally mean anything.
“Medical reasons” – excuses range from a sudden lack-of-ticket-sales-induced chest ache to a genuine Meatloaf-esque heart attack on stage.
“We couldn’t sell any tickets” – an excuse you’ll never see.
My ebook military thriller, The Spartan, is now available on Amazon.

We’ll miss Don … the man, the myth, the enigma.
We’ll miss meeting all of Don’s interesting women.
We’ll miss living vicariously through him.
We’ll miss the way Don could make any suit look amazing with that Cadillac body of his.
We’ll miss Don’s long lunches, late breakfasts and the way he would leave the office whenever he wanted (and wish we could do it, too).
We’ll miss his amazing ad pitches that could make even coffee copy seem like Homer.
We’ll miss Don’s long-suffering secretaries, all the way from Peggy through to Miss Blankenship and beyond.
We’ll miss the drinking in the office.
We’ll miss the sex in the office.
We’ll miss the sex outside the office.
We’ll miss all those interesting books in the show – Exodus, Meditations In An Emergency, Atlas Shrugged, Rosemary’s Baby, Confessions Of An Advertising Man.
We’ll miss the show’s searing indictment of the era’s racial and sexual politics.
We’ll miss how Mad Men signposted so many important moments in American history: the Civil Rights freedom rides, the Cuban Missile Crisis, JFK’s assassination, Vietnam, the moon landing … Tab.
We’ll miss Roger Sterling’s joie de vivre, his bon mots and his self-published book, Sterling’s Gold.
We’ll miss that classic opening sequence.
We’ll miss the cracking dialogue.
We’ll miss the Old Fashioneds, Gimlets, Manhattans and Whiskey Sours.
We’ll miss the painstakingly historically accurate sets.
We’ll miss the clothes.
We’ll miss the hair (but not Roger’s moustache).
We’ll miss Peggy and watching her grow from shy young secretary to kick-ass copy chief.
We’ll miss the inimitable Joan (and wonder why Don and Joan never hooked up … what a dream couple that would’ve made).
We’ll miss the strange things out of the blue like Zou Bisou Bisou, Joan playing the accordion and ad men having their feet run over by indoor tractors.
We’ll miss Chauncey more than we’ll miss Duck.
We’ll miss Sally – but remain grateful we watched her blossom into an incredible young woman.
We’ll miss Betty in so many ways.
We’ll miss Burt Cooper and his epic dancing farewell.
We’ll miss Pete … and always remember the time he tried to exchange that “chip and dip”.
We’ll particularly miss the gallant Englishman Lane.
We’ll miss Salvatore and wonder why the producers never brought him back.
We’ll miss the way Don’s journey was a microcosm of a changing America – and how many (including Don) came to question the myths at the heart of the American capitalistic dream.
We’ll miss trying to unravel the mystery of Don’s heart.
We’ll miss Madison Avenue.
We’ll just miss it all.

My ebook military thriller, The Spartan, is available on Amazon.

SO George Miller’s oversized, thrill-packed road-warrior epic Mad Max has come out to almost universal acclaim.
It’s yet another epic instalment in the movie category you could tentatively call “Apocalypse Porn”.
And yet, why do we – at least in pampered Western societies – have such an interest in and a yearning for the Apocalypse?
You can see signs of the metaphorical Apocalypse everywhere in pop culture. We eagerly devour TV shows such as The Walking Dead and 12 Monkeys. We flock to the cinemas to see Mad Max. We demand greater and greater threats to the Earth in the Avengers series.
Gloom and doom? Bring it on.
So what are the real reasons behind the West’s desire for the Apocalypse … Now?
Maybe there’s a hidden voice in our overprivileged, overindulged brains that whispers “you’ve got it just too good – it can’t possibly last”. True, we’re holding the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse  – Conquest, War, Famine and Death – at bay … and yet, part of us believes that it’s a temporarily scenario at best.
Perhaps untold eras of war and struggle and fighting have left their mark on our unconscious lizard brains. Maybe the idea that the entire human race could be atomised in an afternoon has never left our subconscious. Or that after the Great Oil Shock of 1973 – when OPEC cut off their supply to the West, creating financial panic and underscoring the West’s crippling reliance on foreign oil   – we realised on what precarious foundations our economies and lifestyles were based upon.
Look how good we’ve got it? Bugger that. We all know we’re doomed.
We just don’t know how yet.
Let us count the ways of the impending Apocalypse.
The robots could become self-aware and the Terminators start wiping out humanity en route to killing John Connor. Or an experimental virus will escape from the labs and turn billions into flesh-eating zombies. Maybe aliens who look like us but secretly have lizard faces under their latex masks will descend upon the Earth to feast on our exquisite floppily doppilies.
Climate change could kill us all. We could become Pod People in an Invasion of the Body Snatchers scenario.
Or we’ll end up in some Mad Max-style dystopia where violence is the only law and petrol and water the only things of value.
And yet, could there be another dynamic at work? Could it be that we all have a secret desire to be “tested”? That it some way we long to see if we’re made of the right stuff – to see if we are strong enough and brave enough and resourceful enough to survive whatever the world throws at us, be it zombie infestation, robot apocalypse or Mad Max-style Armageddon?
Do we yearn to be heroes and heroines, to be Tom Hardy’s taciturn road warrior or Charlize Theron’s one-armed ass-kicking Valkyrie? Does the appeal of some Darwinian survival of the fittest scenario tickle our fancy? Are we tired of being Shopper-Consumers and long to become Hunter-Gatherers again?
Perhaps we crave the simplicity of the post-apocalypse. Kill or be killed. Eat or be eaten. Fight or die. A simple life of binary choices, far removed from our modern complex existences.
As for me, I say let’s schedule the Apocalypse for Later rather than Now. Let’s leave the evolutionary battles for survival for future generations. There are too many creature comforts I don’t want to give up just yet.
And too many box sets of The Walking Dead still to be rewatched on my large-screen plasma TV.

My ebook military thriller, The Spartan, is out now on Amazon.

“I FELT a great disturbance in the Force, as if millions of voices suddenly cried out in terror and were suddenly silenced. I fear something terrible has happened.”
It’s the classic quote from Obi-wan Kenobi as the destruction of Alderaan ripples through the Force in Star Wars.
And yet, is not a similar disturbance on the interwebs felt with the sudden death and downfall of every great TV character?
Certainly the Twittersphere is up in arms over the fate of a certain character in last night’s Mad Men.
Which raises the question: what do we do when someone whose adventures we have followed for years – devoting precious hours and binge-marathons to – is suddenly killed off?
It’s not like any modern viewer is going to weep any tears for the fate of Old Yella or Lassie. Those old shows were too sentimental and cornball for modern tastes to take seriously. They’re almost laughable, really, an excursion in kitsch.
Yet there is a certain amount of trauma involved when heroes and heroines we’ve invited into our living rooms – and spent many a rainy day or long afternoon getting to know – disappear from our modern screens.
These characters become more than mere pixels on the screen: they become real in a way. At least, the emotions they evoke are real. And we, in turn, become invested in their fates.
We know from long experience not to get too close to any character from Game Of Thrones. Go to one Red or Purple Wedding and you know someone is going to cop a crossbow bolt/knife to the throat/poisoned chalice. Sometimes it’s King Joffrey (yay!). And other times it’s Robb and Catelyn Stark (why, George RR, why?).
But the Mad Men one hits you right where it hurts because it’s so unexpected.
Yet perhaps it’s not such a bad thing. When a major character dies, it just goes to show the stakes involved … that this is serious, people. As serious as real life. To believe that fictional characters never die is perhaps to believe in the prolonging of adolescence: to put off the grim realities of adulthood, to believe that Lassie or Skippy or Flipper or the Lone Ranger always arrive in the nick of time to save the day.
Yet if our appetite for the grittier series and boxsets has proved anything, it is that we as an audience are ready and hungry for more adult drama.
If there is one objection I have to the excellent Avengers movies, it is this: you just know none of the major characters will ever be killed. In a way, that actually lowers the stakes, despite the Avengers fighting to save the world from angry Gods or even angrier robots.
Yes, there is something reassuring in knowing the outcome beforehand, flipping the Doors’ lyrics of “no one here gets out alive” to “everyone here gets out alive for the sequel and their own stand-alone movies”. But as we all know, that’s not how real life works.
In contrast, all of the top tier HBO shows – The Sopranos, Game Of Thrones, True Blood – feature major character deaths.
And the writers usually do their best to soften the emotional blow. After all, they’re emotionally invested in the characters, too. As a fellow writer, I understand how writers can become attached to their creations. In a way, their lives become our lives. We imagine what they say and do, their words and actions coming to us at all hours of the day. They become our friends and confidantes. Fictional characters can sometimes occupy as much headspace as a treasured friend.
And no one wants to kill a treasured friend.
Speaking of insensitivity, one can’t go past the callousness of the 1986 film, Transformers: The Movie. Toymaker Hasbro was keen to finish off the old line of Transformer toys and usher in a new line, so the movie was used to introduce a new collection of Transformers – as well as violently kill off a whole bunch of established characters/toys, including Optimus Prime. Naturally, the tots and young adults who had invested so much time and emotion in Optimus Prime and co were horrified.
It was the toyetic equivalent of the Red Wedding.
Personally I think the best way to end a TV show that potentially features the death of major characters is to be ambiguous. For example, I love the much-derided ending of The Sopranos. Now I can go back and watch the whole series again, believing that Tony lives at the end.
I even like to kid myself when it comes to classic movie endings. For example, I like to think Thelma and Louise survived at the end when they drove into the Grand Canyon. You don’t see the crash: maybe they landed on a ledge or something? Maybe?
Same thing with Butch Cassidy And The Sundance Kid. Perhaps Paul Newman and Robert Redford aren’t killed by the Mexican army? Maybe they just get winged. After all, you don’t actually see them get shot – there’s that little wiggle room in the imagination for other outcomes.
But back to last night’s shocker.
Perhaps George R.R. Martin was right when he wrote “valar morghulis”.
All men must die.
And occasionally major characters must die, too.
And perhaps that’s how it should be in the world of adult drama.

My military ebook thriller The Spartan is out now on Amazon.

AFTER having just binge-watched the entire third season of House Of Cards, I think I can agree with many of the critics out there who went … “meh”.
It’s not that the season is that dire or anything. But something has been done to the show’s formula to make it less engaging – something, I believe, that could be called “the Poochie Syndrome”.
Set the wayback machine, Sherman, to that classic episode of The Simpsons where the creators of subversive cartoon-within-a-cartoon Itchy And Scratchy are grappling with the malaise affecting the show. Lisa Simpson gives the best insight where she says that after so many episodes, it’s hard to have the same effect on viewers. The show has simply lost its novelty value.
But the creators decide to tweak with the formula – to tweak, as it were, the “dramaturgical dyad” behind Itchy And Scratchy. Enter Poochie: the skateboarding dog with attitude. He’s extreme. He’s edgy. He’s whatever buzzwords the focus groups behind capturing the younger demographic want him to be.
Poochie proves to be a disaster and is soon written out of the show (much to Homer’s chagrin). Yet I can’t help but think that some of the problems of Poochie’s brief stardom also plague the story of Francis and Claire Underwood.
One of them is awkward writing and sudden plot jumps, perhaps most obvious when you watch the show all at once rather than week by week.
Remember how Poochie is suddenly written out of the show? Where, out of the blue, he announces, “I have to go now, my planet needs me”? Followed by a note on the screen that says “Poochie died on the way back to his home planet”?
Season three of House Of Cards is full of moments like that. Characters that have been part of major arcs for several episodes disappear without trace, as if they have been rapidly recalled to their home planet. In one particular instance which I won’t spoil in case you haven’t seen it, the disappearance of one seemingly pivotal senator is explained away with a two- or three-sentence aside from Francis.
It’s the dramatic equivalent of the “Poochie died on the way back to his home planet” note.
Poochie inconsistencies also plague the plot. One episode Francis insists that the Russians must be part of a peacekeeping mission in the Jordan Valley in the Middle East – despite the fact that the Russians would have no real reason for sending troops to that quagmire of a region.
“The Russians must be part of it!” he roars. Then, barely an episode or two later, he’s suddenly dead-set against the Russians being there. “They have to get out!” he insists, as if he played no part in getting them there.
One would need the mental dexterity and convenient amnesia of a citizen of 1984’s Oceania to accept this flip-flopping reality.
The stakes they are fighting for continually shift and turn, testing the credulity of any intelligent viewer. One episode Francis is doomed to electoral failure. The next he’s back on top as if nothing had ever happened … as if, in fact, “Poochie” was never there in the first place.
President Francis’s AmWorks (America Works) campaign isn’t fleshed out, either. He wants to provide full employment by cutting social security – yet there is scant detail to explain the scheme. Also, Francis is supposed to be a Democrat president: the social-security-slashing AmWorks sounds more like a Republican scheme. Surely a Democrat president wouldn’t be taking an axe to Obama’s hard-won Obamacare?
Are you there, Poochie?
And would the President really be forced to raid the Federal Emergency Management Agency for a measly $3 billion to prop up AmWorks? The US economy is a $17-trillion-dollar juggernaut: $3 billion is loose change you’d find under the couch. More “Poochie” writing.
The “dramaturgical dyad” of Francis and Claire has also been tampered with, to dubious effect. Remember Homer Simpson’s suggestion about Poochie that, whenever he wasn’t on the screen, Itchy and Scratchy would constantly ask, “Where’s Poochie?” I feel that Francis and Claire have succumbed to the same problem. They’re constantly on the phone to each other or demanding to be put in touch with each other, barely content to enjoy any solo screen time.
“Where’s Francis? Where’s Claire?”
Where’s Poochie?
I’m not sure how House Of Cards solves its Poochie problem. Maybe, as Lisa Simpson would say, after the cracking first season, we’re just not sure how to take House Of Cards, particularly now that Francis Underwood has gone from underdog senator to overdog President.
Perhaps the next move, as in the original House of Cards series, is to see Francis lose his position – to be called back to his home planet.
Although let’s hope he doesn’t die on the way there.

My ebook military thriller, The Spartan, is out now on Amazon.

I MET Keanu Reeves once. It was at the premiere of The Matrix Revolutions at the Sydney Opera House in 2003. By a stroke of luck I had made my way past security into the VIP area where Reeves, Paris Hilton and her sister and uber-producer Joel Silver were ensconced.
I wasn’t actually supposed to be there – my press pass only allowed me to mingle among the hoi polloi – but I acted like I belonged with the VIPs when I flashed my pass, which, of course, is the secret to gatecrashing everywhere.
Like the gaming nerd I am, I took the chance to congratulate the beautiful Jada Pinkett-Smith on her role in The Matrix video game. She was pleased by the compliment, no doubt used to hearing more commentary on her role in the movies.
Then it was on to talk to Reeves, who was sitting on a couch.
Reeves looked pretty much exactly like he did on screen: handsome, chilled-out, with eyes that bespoke a deep intelligence. And believe me, not every Hollywood star looks the same as they do on screen. Some, in my experience, look radically different: almost unrecognisable (no names … but you know who you are).
Anyway, I went up to Keanu and shook his hand.
“Good movie,” I said.
“Thanks,” he replied.
Then he yawned.
But that was OK. It’s a 16-hour flight to Sydney from the US.
Anyway, it would be more than a decade before Reeves would find another great action franchise.
And I believe he has found one with John Wick.
Described as one of the best action films of 2014, it’s a welcome return to form for Reeves, a pacy shoot-’em-up that reminds me of the excitement and vigour of the first Taken movie. The shooting scenes are particularly interesting as Wick takes down Russian Mafiosko close up, almost using his pistol as a third hand or extra fist.
Yet what stuck out in my mind was Wick’s motivation for bringing the pain: the Russian mafia killed his dog. Or rather, they killed the dog that was the last gift from his late wife. But still … it’s all about the dog, whose collar Wick keeps on his bedstand as a reminder to keep his rage fresh. Several Russians can’t believe that Wick would go postal over a pooch. After all, who goes all Rambo over a dog?
Still, it’s a welcome twist from the usual tired themes of revenge movies. The “they killed/kidnapped his wife and family … and now it’s personal” gambit has been played out in everything from Taken to Commando.
Let’s hope Hollywood makes more “alt-revenge” movies in the John Wick vein. I’d like to see a revenge fantasy based on a burnt-out Italian hitman taking revenge on the Russian mob for a bad customer rating on eBay. I’d book early online to see a psychopathic version of Sideways where snobs go at each other hammer and tongs because someone brought merlot to dinner. I’d definitely tape Revenge For Flipper … and at least watch the first 10 minutes of The Artisanal Bread Massacre.
Missing cats, neglected goldfish, overgrown hedges, crude personal graffiti on toilet walls, disses on Facebook, poor service in stores and social exclusion in high school now writ large in the adult mind are all real-world fodder for alt-revenge … providing said revenge is exacted on tough, demanding, armed foes and not, say, innocent teen fry cooks.
Perhaps a gun-toting gluten-intolerant could take their intolerance out on the gluten-loving world at large in some bizarre remake of Falling Down (“at first he was gluten intolerant … now he can’t tolerate anything”). Perhaps a $10,000 Apple Watch could be the McGuffin in the suitcase in Pulp Fiction II, the item avaricious gangsters fight and die over. Maybe pimped-out grocery carts could be transformed into Mad Max-style battle vehicles as the apocalypse comes to the frozen food section of your local grocery store (“Everyone is checking out on aisle nine in Store Wars: Episode III”).
I await Hollywood’s best efforts.

My ebook military thriller, The Spartan, is now available on Amazon.

ACTUALLY, it’s Jason Alexander’s birthday, but you get the idea. I had the pleasure of talking to him in 2008 and found him a very different, far more confident person than George from Seinfeld. Check it out here.

FYI: Duckman, the excellent animated series which features the voice of Alexander and which I refer to in the interview, is now available on DVD. It’s great … go out and grab a copy.

My ebook military thriller, The Spartan, is now available on Amazon.

TEN years ago when I interviewed Ryan Reynolds for Blade III, I mentioned how he’d make an awesome Deadpool. (Here’s the full interview here.)

Now comes news that the Deadpool movie is coming in 2016, with Reynolds tipped to play Pool. Apparently fans were blown away by the leaked test footage.

That’s one movie I’m looking forward to.
– Charles Purcell