Gradually, I'm gaining an appreciation of the magic and charm of Terry Pratchett's writing. For some reason, I managed to get through high school, university and a fair chunk of my adult life being a fantasy fan, without dipping my toe into the Discworld universe. And though this oversight was corrected by reading Wee Free Men, I must confess to being intimidated by Pratchett's considerable body of work. It's almost too much of a good thing, really; where do I start?

Tiffany Aching has, thus far, been the most successful in leading me into Pratchett's Discworld realm (I've also read The Amazing Maurice and His Incredible Rodents). From Wee Free Men, I was enchanted by this eight-year-old girl who took on the Queen of the Faeries armed only with an iron frying pan in order to save her baby brother and the baron's son, Roland. Tiffany was helped along by the Nac Mac Feegles -- the Wee Free Men of the story -- who are basically a bunch of belligerent, boozing, battling, dumb-and-brave-as-posts Scottish smurfs.

The Nac Mac Feegle take on the task of looking after young Tiffany (the "big wee hag" as they call her) with a fierce loyalty, but it's Tiffany that carries Wee Free Men. She's a fascinating character, carrying all of the vulnerability of her youth but totally unwilling (or possibly unable) to let that burden her. The Nac Mac Feegle are hilarious with their phonetic Scottish dialogue and their too-dumb-to-be-afraid ways, but it's Tiffany who carries all of the doubts, who overcomes all of the adversities she knows should crush her, and who makes all of the interesting decisions as we watch her grow up.

She certainly catches the interest of Miss Tick, a witch-finder who is startled by the young girl's witchy abilities which are strong despite the fact that Tiffany lives on "the Chalk" -- an area of rolling hills fit mostly for sheep herding whose soft rock is said to be unable to support witches. Tiffany's grandmother, however, was a legendary shepherdess, and very probably a witch in her own right. With Tiffany's abilities threatening to outstrip that of her grandmother, Miss Tick suggests that Tiffany get some proper witch schooling, which takes us into the book A Hat Full of Sky. This book is not as funny as the first (partly because the Nac Mac Feegle don't feature as prominently), but it continues Tiffany's story (she's now eleven years old here) and we are introduced to characters that feature prominently in Pratchett's other works (including Esme "Granny" Weatherwax). Here, the depth of Tiffany's powers are illustrated when she attracts the attention of a Hiver.

Terry Pratchett's Wintersmithtakes us to Tiffany's thirteenth birthday with a story that's an improvement on A Hat Full of Sky. Tiffany is really coming into her own, so much so that, while the Nac Mac Feegle do get a number of funny scenes in this book, they aren't missed as much as they were in the second book. The comic tension is now shared on a number of fronts, including Tiffany's maturation into a young woman. You really start to feel the age gap between Tiffany and Granny Weatherwax, and you share Nanny Ogg's delight at embarrassing the poor girl with questions about the baron's son Roland, who may or may not be developing into Tiffany's boyfriend. More importantly, Tiffany starts to make mistakes.

At the night of the autumnal equinox, Tiffany is taken to a secret showing of the Dark Morris -- a dance ceremony the precise opposite of the May Day Morris Dance, designed to give the cycles of summer and winter another push. It's a sombre ceremony, performed silently and all in black, but Tiffany still feels the beat that the dancers are dancing to and, for reasons she can not explain to herself, she finds herself dancing to that beat, and finds herself inside the dance, where she attracts the attention of the Wintersmith. The Wintersmith is the invisible elemental that resides at the centre of the dance and who controls the winter. Over the next six months, poor Tiffany must suffer the Wintersmith's attentions, as he showers her with embarrassing gifts, including snowflakes in her image, and threatens to swamp the world with winter-without-end.

In Wee Free Men, Tiffany had plenty of internal doubts, but she blazed on with the clarity of a child. A Hat Full of Skyshows Tiffany going beyond her abilities and getting punished for it by the attentions of the Hiver -- even though it's not really her fault. Wintersmithfeatures Tiffany making the mistakes any young, awkward teenager would make, which means the girl is starting to come into her own as a fully fleshed out adult character. What is definitely Tiffany about Tiffany Aching is the fact that she accepts the responsibility for her mistake -- one which, for the first time, might cost other people's lives -- and resolves to do everything in her power to fix it, even at the cost of her own life.

There are other subplots which flesh out Tiffany's character and the character of those around her. Intriguingly, like Tiffany, her witch teachers now seem more human. Granny Weatherwax loads Tiffany down with a number of chores over the next six months, both to keep Tiffany occupied and her mind off the tremendous threat she faces, but also to further her own agenda in a game of one-upsmanship against the flamboyant Mrs. Earwig. There is also a wonderful sequence with Tiffany's current mentor Miss Treason, who teaches Tiffany an invaluable lesson about how psychology plays as important a part in witchcraft as magic. Miss Treason's last moments (she's 113) are among the highlight of the book, being at once hilarious and sad.

Even the Baron's son, poor Roland, gets some good airtime in this story, as the Nac Mac Feegle are forced to conscript him on a hero's quest to help Tiffany finish her fight against the Wintersmith. The boy is, in many ways, the opposite of Tiffany -- sheltered, naive, not very powerful at all, and knowing it, but he is growing too, thank's to his friendship with Tiffany, and it will be interesting to see where his story goes in the next book.

I have not read enough of Pratchett's work to assess for certain how well he does with Wintersmith, but the book feels like one of his best, as he is firing on all cylinders producing a story that is at times funny, sad, poignant and uplifting. He does a heck of a lot in just thirteen chapters, with not a wasted page among them. The disparate subplots come together thematically and the story is resolved neatly, with the reader left wanting more.

Please do tell me that there is more Tiffany Aching to come.

P.S: "Werk!"

I have a suspicion that 16-year-old Natalie Fuentes would object to the tag-line on the back cover of the book about her life.



"She's smart, she's spunky and she's super cool!"


You see, saying that you're "super cool" is pretty much a definition of being <em>not</em> cool. And over and over again, Natalie doesn't see herself as cool. Arriving in Toronto after spending time in Buenos Aires and New York, and attending her first day of school at Western Collegiate, she knows no one. She's an outsider, and outsiders are never cool.

But she's cool with that.

Emily Pohl-Weary, granddaughter of Canadian science fiction legend Judith Merrill, author of <strong>A Girl Like Sugar</strong> and editor of the saucy literary magazine <a href="http://www.kissmachine.org/"><strong>Kiss Machine</strong></a>, turns her attention to young adult fiction with a feet-on-the-ground mystery called <strong>Strange Times at Western High</strong>. The book is very much in the style of Nancy Drew -- or, possibly Nancy Drew's granddaughter who got raised with considerable street sense in a big city.

Natalie wants to get on with her life and avoid making waves; unfortunately, that seems to go against her individualistic nature. Not enough that she's the new kid at a strange high school, but she also does uncool, counter-culture style things like publishing a zine about her life (called <em>My (Very) Secret Life</em>), or taking unauthorized "short cuts" into buildings. She stands up for herself, refuses to back down from bullies, and thus has a school record the length of her arm.

Her first day at Western Collegiate sees her taking a short cut through one of the back doors in order to avoid an intimidating clique of surly blond girls in miniskirts who seem have taken an instant dislike to her. She immediately walks in on a brutal attack against the school's chief caretaker, Issac Kaufman, possibly saving the man's life as the masked assailant runs off. Now the police and the principal are pestering Natalie for all she knows, and she's facing the nervous attentions of Issac's son, Jacob, himself a reclusive computer geek who'd had a run-in with the law for hacking. Various groups in the school mark her out as a troublemaker and vandalize her locker, and that's just before lunch.

Natalie's parents, jet-setting journalists who took Natalie with them as they covered the world's nastier hotspots, are now divorced. Natalie lives with her father while he takes a full-time job with the Toronto Star to give her some stability. He's a loving parent, but rather out of his depth. He frets over Natalie's problems, and pushes her to make friends. Fortunately, he has a good eye for potential friends. The next door neighbour's daughter, Ruth Hamilton and her friend Suzy Moon both attend Western Collegiate. Ruth's older brother Matt is the newly-minted quarterback on the football team. The three are bemused by Natalie's odd ways, the fact that she edits a zine on her life as well as her propensity for trouble, but they welcome her into their circle and give her critical support against the bullies that seem to be taking over the school. The fact that Suzy's mother owns an office supply store grants Natalie access to deeply discounted (okay, free) photocopying for her 'zine.

Her father would be less happy with Natalie's contact with Ramiro Lopez and Eddie Chango. Ramiro is a graffiti artist and Eddie is Western Collegiate's former quarterback, expelled last year for "an incident" against the aggressive new coach Mr. Wojcek. Both are "allergic to the authorities", but they seem to mean well, and Natalie comes to rely on them to tell her what's happening beneath the surface at Western -- that is, until Eddie himself becomes a suspect in her case.

Why was Issac Kaufman beaten unconscious? Does it have anything to do with the increasingly bold theft of supplies and sports equipment from the school? With Western Collegiate quickly gaining a reputation as a problem school, why does Principal Jefferson seem to have so little control? And why does the blonde clique have it so in for Natalie? Are any or all of these questions connected?

Emily Pohl-Weary creates a story that's connected to the rich urban culture and diversity of Toronto life. Natalie produces zines, is street-smart and knows the latest counter-culture songs. Western Collegiate's student body is a great multicultural mix of characters. Emily inserts all of these elements effortlessly, making them a part of Natalie's character and her life without making them appear forced. The story is told tightly in Natalie's point of view, and the voice is wholly authentic. Natalie is a very likable character and one can see why Ruth and Suzy find it so easy to be her friend: she's intelligent, forthright without being bossy, quite capable of taking care of herself, but willing to accept the help of others. She is adept, but not overconfident. It's easy to sympathize with her. Of particular note is the chemistry between Natalie and Jacob Kaufman, and his subplot as Natalie starts to pull him out of his computer-monitor, chatroom shell.

The book's mystery is well crafted and will keep you guessing to the very end, and you will love to see how Natalie triumphs. <strong>Strange Times at Western High</strong> is the first in a series (the second one is due out Fall 2007), and I think that's very good news. I must admit that I got caught up in Natalie's life. I look forward to seeing how things develop for her, Jacob, Ruth and Suzy, very soon. And is there any way I can get a copy of <em>My (Very) Secret Life</em>?

Philip Reeve weaves a fascinating world of airships and tank-like cities, intrigue and romance, action and adventure, without getting bogged down in the details of the world that Tom lives in. Despite the post-post-post apocalyptic setting, this is light reading. There are moments of wry humour, and well-paced action. And Philip occasionally produces a brilliant turn of phrase that stops me in my tracks.

That isnt to say that its perfect. Far from it. Reeve has a flawed writing style that refuses to engage the reader with a consistent voice. Points of view jump from character to character within sections and, Im sorry, but since Ive had my head taken off for engaging in ping pong point of view, I dont see why Reeve should get off so easy. Occasionally, the narrative switches from past tense to present tense, apparently just to annoy me.

But thats easily overlooked by the drive of the story here. Reeve engages in some cliches, but deliciously twists others. For instance, when Tom and Hester are taken prisoner aboard the pirate suburb of Tunnbridge Wheels, Hester just happens to know the Lord Mayor, and tries to use that to get out of her predicament. The readership groans at the convenience of this, but it doesnt work. Delightfully, their salvation comes out of nowhere; Reeve pulls a nice bait and switch.

And while some characters are cardboard, many are not. Tom is occasionally so naive as to not be believable, but thats made up for by the fact that he gets an education in a hurry. The various characters of London, especially young Katherine, Valentines daughter, who investigates and discovers the truth about her dad, are engaging enough, but Reeves brilliance lies in the character of Hester. This poor, damaged, driven girl is ugly in every sense of the word: brutally disfigured, brutally violent, brutally cynical about the world around her. And yet Tom (and the readers) is able to discover a harsh beauty within her, in her clarity of purpose, in her determination, and in the occasional emergence of the shy girl that existed before Valentine slashed her face open. Her violent nature threatens to create a rift between her and Tom, but the story of their relationship is the engine that drives this series.

Cornelia Funke's children's novel, The Thief Lord, is an odd duck. It calls up deep themes that it doesn't quite explore in depth. It has wonderful and complex characters standing alongside very simplistically drawn ones. It tackles dark issues, without actually getting very dark. Thanks to Funke's adept writing, strong characterization, and some nice humourous touches, the result is that The Thief Lord is fun fluff, but you are left wondering how much better the book could have been if Funke had dug deeper.

The story begins when private detective Victor Getz gets a call from the aristocratic Esther Hartleib and her husband. Esther's slightly flaky sister (in Esther's opinion, anyway, but we really don't care much about that) has passed away, orphaning her twelve-year-old son Prosper and his brother Bo. Esther has offered to take Bo in, but intends to send Prosper off to boarding school because, frankly, she wants an angelic baby-faced child, but not the task of taking care of children once they cease to be cute.

Prosper, alarmed at the prospect of being separated from his brother, has snatched Bo and run away across Europe to the city of Venice (where Victor works) ' drawn by his mother's colourful stories about the city of canals. Esther has tracked them here, but cannot find them in this city of hideaways, so she hires Victor. Victor knows that Prosper and Bo face a terrible situation with Esther, but he's more worried about Prosper and Bo alone on the streets of the city. For that reason, he agrees to help find them.

Fortunately, Prosper and Bo are not sleeping on the streets. By an amazing stroke of luck, they have been taken in by a special gang of street children, and are now sleeping in relative comfort inside an abandoned movie theatre. With them is bookish, twelve-year-old Hornet (not her real name, but called that because her hair is pulled back in a long braid so tight, it pokes out behind her like a stinger). With her are Riccio and Mosca, former pick-pockets, now under the protection of the mysterious young Scipio.

The children can hardly believe their luck. Scipio, who wears a mask and calls himself the Thief Lord, provides for them. They don't even have to risk being caught by the law for pickpocketing; the only criminal activity Scipio asks of them is to fence the goods he himself steals, and they live off the money his activity provides. Scipio's break-ins on the rich palaces of Venice are quickly attaining legendary status because of his apparent abilities to walk past complex security systems without detection.

Of course, this strangely idyllic world cannot last. Scipio is commissioned by a brutish antiques dealer (and dealer in stolen goods) named Barbarossa to take on a special assignment: steal a wooden wing from a modest house. But is Scipio really who he seems? And why would anybody pay five million lire to steal a simple wooden wing? Prosper and Hornet know that something doesn't feel right, but Scipio seems eager to take on the job, as five million lire would set each of these children up for life. And while the children ponder this development, Esther's net tightens.

The Thief Lord has many dark elements: the plight of street children, the tragedy of having loveless parents, the tragedy of having no parents at all, and the dangers of living in a criminal underworld. Funke touches upon the dark histories of Scipio and Hornet, but never does more than imply. In many cases this works very well. The way that Funke hints at Hornet's backstory through quick references, and subtle nuances in the girl's character develops a story in the reader's mind that is harsher than Funke could easily show. For this reason, Hornet ends up almost stealing the show, in a book that's supposed to focus on Prosper and Scipio.

But too often, Funke pulls back from taking us into the dark. The perils that afflict our heroes end up being dealt with quickly, with few lasting consequences, and then soothed with a bit of comic relief. It's almost as though Funke is afraid of scaring away her younger readers. And while I can understand the need to write something that's not all doom and gloom, Funke's whitewashing of certain elements in her book gives it a somewhat unsatifying, incomplete feel.

Then there are the interesting differences in characterization. Prosper is well drawn as a conflicted youth, desperate to stay with Bo, and overwhelmed with the responsibility of being his de-facto father. He accepts the help and protection of Hornet and Scipio, not only because of their genuine offer of friendship, but he really has no choice between this and destitution. However, he (and the readers with him) cannot help but be concerned by how five-year-old Bo takes to admiring Scipio's thieving lifestyle. This is very well done. Likewise, Scipio's motivations, once his mystery is revealed, are well handled, and contribute to the theme of the novel: children wishing to be grown ups, and grown ups wishing they were children again.

It's interesting, though, that in this book about children playing at being adults, some of the adult characters don't fare as well. Esther is basically a caricature, and it is hard to take Victor seriously (although his utter disdain over Esther's attitude to children is a highlight). More frustratingly, after setting up Barbarrossa's client, the mysterious Conte, as a powerful criminal element, Funke backtracks on the Conte's power and emnity and hands the main villain duties back to Barbarrossa. Unfortunately, Barbarrossa is not nearly as interesting, nor really connected, as the Conte is, to the book's theme. Some characters go against character, or act with half of their initial IQ in order to resolve plot points quickly.

Another example of this unfocused and rushed approach to this novel is the use of the setting, and the use of magic in the story. It's hard to place when this story takes place because, while it is unquestionably Venice, and mention is made of today's technology (a cellphone is mentioned), it's hard to tell whether this take actually takes place today or in some older, more rough-and-tumble period. If this is today's world, I would have thought that there would be more mention of social services and foster parents being avoided, rather than a Catholic-run orphanage.

More frustratingly, the book turns on an element of magic -- the only element of magic in the entire book. Given that the rest of Venice is generally unmagical, using magic to bring about the climax is a bad cheat, and it throws the story into a loop of happy coincidences and people acting out of character in order to bring things quickly to a close.

I've heard it said that young readers don't mind if you take them into dark places, so long as you take them out again, but Funke doesn't do that. In many cases, she just points to the dark places without taking you there, and I fear that the trip isn't as satisfying.

There is much to recommend The Thief Lord. In particular, the characters of Prosper, Hornet and Scipio make this story such a fascinating read that one hopes for a sequel. But one hopes that the next story is a little more focused, and follows through on the themes that are raised. The Thief Lord is a fascinating read, but one feels that there could have been so much more.

I know there are better movies out there, and I've seen them. However, whenever I'm asked what my favourite movie of all time is, I always come back to North by Northwest.

North by Northwest is the classic Alfred Hitchcock tale starring Cary Grant as Roger O. Thornhill, mistaken by enemy spies (led by James Mason) for a deep cover CIA agent. Thornhill, a run-of-the-mill advertising executive, finds his safe world swept out from under him. Running for his life not only from the spies but from American authorities who think he's a murderer, Thornhill races across America, barely able to keep his wits as he searches for the real CIA agent. He finds romance with Eve Marie Saint, a woman who might not be all that she seems.

I guess if you're going to choose a favourite movie, you can't do much better than something Hitchcock directed, can you? And North by Northwest is ranked up there with Psycho, Vertigo, The Birds and Rear Window, but I like North by Northwest more. Possibly because it's less about the scare and more about the romp. While Richard Thornhill is thrown out of his depth, I enjoy seeing how quickly he learns to swim. Cary Grant adds a suave air to him that's both comical and affirming. You don't get the sense that Richard Thornhill is in any real danger (unlike the entire cast of Psycho or The Birds), but that in no way detracts from the fun. It's like watching James Bond, (with the added benefit that Cary Grant is not James Bond) knowing that he's going to win, and enjoying how he does it.

And I like the fact that North by Northwest is part travelogue, as Richard Thornhill is literally taken aboard planes, trains and automobiles, making you feel like an accidental tourist as you watch him struggle to the bottom of the mystery. The movie never settles down, giving you a diversity of set pieces along with its diversity of settings. My favourite moment comes outside Chicago where Thornhill has been told to meet the government agent at a bus stop on a rural highway. It's a moment where the movie slows down. Hitchcock wonderfully conveys suspense through isolation as we're left alone with Cary Grant, with the wind blowing through the cornfields, and the sound of an occasional passing car. Then someone shows up, waits by the other side of the road, and Hitchcock captures the scene, Grant on one side, road on the middle, country man on the right, the long horizon stretching in the background in a tremendous wide shot. And we wait for something to happen. That's a magic moment. To my mind, it is the best movie visual I've ever seen.

It all culminates in (surely you all know this by now) a wonderful climactic scene with Grant and Saint Marie dangling from the faces of Mount Rushmore. Hitchcock directs with his usual aplomb, Grant is his usual slick self, Eve Saint Marie is sexy and James (I really do sound like God) Mason is suitably, suavely evil.

It may be a popcorn flick, but they don't come better than this.

Bruce Springsteen was one of those musicians that provided the soundtrack of my teenager years, with Born in the USA rubbing shoulders with REMs Losing my Religion, Peter Gabriels Big and Madonnas Like a Virgin. I guess its no accident that these songs come to mind, given that these musicians are among the few from the 1980s whose music doesnt date.

While the latter three musicians have continued on, reinventing themselves for the nineties and the naughties with various degrees of success, Bruce Springsteen faded out for me. Other than Tunnel of Love, there was no other album I thought (however erroneously) worth having. While Madonna was making a fool of herself with a remake of American Pie and Peter Gabriel went industrial with Up, I never paused to wonder where had Bruce Springsteen gone.

Recently, Bruce sprang back to the medias attention with the release of We Shall Overcome: The Seeger Sessions. Programs on NPR gave Bruce a lot of exposure for this new album which was so different from Bruces rock persona. Upon listening to the album, however, I wonder why it took this long for Bruce to find a part of himself he never knew hed had.

Work on the album that became The Seeger Sessions began in 1997 when Bruce Springsteen released a cover of the classic Pete Seeger song We Shall Overcome. Pete Seeger is a noted folk singer and political activist from the 1950s, possibly best known as the co-author of such songs as Where have all the flowers gone, and If I Had a Hammer.

Having previously known little of Pete Seegers work and intrigued by what he had heard, Bruce did a thorough investigation, heading down to his local record store and returning with a pile of Pete Seegers albums the length of his arm. Listening to the folk ballads, he was inspired to go on a quest, which culminated in a bunch of musicians (friends and friends of friends of Soozie Tyrell, a violinist with Bruces E Street Band) holed up in the living room of an old farm house, playing folk tunes, some over a hundred years old.

The thirteen songs of We Shall Overcome: the Pete Seeger Sessions were recorded over three one-day sessions with this group, totally unrehearsed. Its raw and unscripted, and full of an energy that sets your toes tapping and your hands clapping. Bruces husky voice is amazingly appropriate to the material, lending it a rough edge to the sad songs that plays perfectly. And you can tell that all of the musicians, the violinists, the guitar and banjo players, the drummers and the horns in the hallway, are having a wonderful time. The music is old, vibrant, lyrical and sad, as rich as a Kentucky mansion. Right from the first song, Old Dan Tucker, its as though a bunch of travelling musicians have barged into your front room, and they brought beer!

We Shall Overcome: the Seeger Sessions is an album for Bruce Springsteen fans who like to hear him rock it old school, and for people eager to hear a maestro explore well beyond his musical boundaries. It will appeal to connoisseurs of folk and rock. It is a wonderful album to bounce around to, ably conveying the richness of Americas roots music tradition.

My wife and I first encountered Jorane during the live taping of the 2001 CBC Literary Awards. The hour-long presentation was hosted by the Vinyl Cafe's Stuart McLean, with music between the presentations and readings performed live on stage by Jorane and her band. The young Quebecois singer sat with her cello, flanked by three other band members, themselves playing a synthesizer and two double basses respectively.

Their music shocked us. It wasn't your mother's classical ensemble; far from it. They burst into our senses with an ethereal wail, Jorane's soprano mouth-music providing the high notes to the cello/double bass counterpoint. It was bizarre, it was surreal, and as the presentation continued, we found it quite compelling.

Jorane burst onto the Quebec music scene in 1999 with her debut album "Vent Fou". Her deep and angsty (French) lyrics and her unusual, but classically-based playing style earned her comparisons with Tori Amos. She followed this up with the even more experimental 16 mm. As a Quebec singer/songwriter, her first album did not get much play in North America outside of Quebec (though she did find success in Europe). Her second album, "16 mm", made a pitch for a wider audience by removing the lyrics altogether and using her voice simply as a musical instrument. Her efforts were met with limited success, though she retains the respect of her fans for her bold, innovative style.

Her 2004 release, "The You and the Now" steps back from the experimentation of 16 mm, but tries to widen her audience with more songs written in English. She remains true to her roots, however, with songs counterpointing her lovely voice to her deep cello tones. Now 28, and with three albums under her belt, her style has matured. Her tempos are slinky, seductive, occasionally downbeat. There is a brilliant remake of the disco hit, I Feel Love, but Stay is my favourite, showcasing Jorane's ethereal voice with her deep cello tones.

There is something sirenesque in Jorane's singing, a reminder of swimming in deep water. It's full of mystery and longing, and despite the comparisons to Tori Amos, quite distinctive from anything around her. I may be two years too late in reviewing this album, but it's still worth checking out.

I'm not one to dismiss the sixth season of Buffy, not because I'm a "besotted fan of the series" but because it definitely had its moments. Any series, including Buffy, is going to be hard-pressed to maintain the consistent quality that Buffy achieved during its second and third seasons, but I came on board as a fan in the middle of the fifth season, and I was happy to watch the series through to its end. Clearly, if you find Buffy the Vampire Slayer entertaining enough to watch it week after week, you are going to find the sixth season box set worth buying.

Although the sixth season does not have the twisty storyline of season two's Spike-Dru-Angel and season three's fight with Faith and the Mayor, it still manages to reach considerable highs, including the musical episode ("Once More With Feeling"), "Buffy Interrupted" and the final two-parter after Willow loses it. The only problem with the sixth season is that it is entirely too linear; Buffy is resurrected, Willow succumbs to an addiction to magic, and three entertaining former high-school losers set up shop as the season's big bad... and then not much else happens. Everybody has their path laid out for them at the beginning of the season and everybody spends much of the season following that path. It's solid and dependable action, but a little boring in retrospect. Compare this to the roller-coaster of season four of Angel where NOBODY, not even the writing staff, knew what was going to happen four or five episodes down the line.

But season six isn't the weakest season of Buffy. That honour rests with season seven which shared sixth season's linearity, but sloppily raised and dropped plot elements, and failed to resolve a number of issues satisfactorily. Still, this is Buffy we're talking about. Even in its sixth season, it was one of the best television shows then in production. When the time comes for me to review the seventh season box set, it will still get a solid three stars.

The 1960s Hammer Horror movie "Quatermass and the Pit" is a decent film, well worth watching. However, if you can get your hands on the original 1957 BBC TV serial version, do so. </P>

Nigel Kneale's script is a landmark of television science fiction, with ideas that have influenced a number of more modern television series (especially "Doctor Who"). The script itself borrows heavily from HP Lovecraft (especially the ancient alien artefact that drives humans mad) and is the reason why both the television series and the movie are as good as they are. The premise is smart and rock solid, and the characters are extremely well realized.</P>

The television mini-series is in a league of its own, however, in terms of the acting and the direction. Even though it was produced on a fraction of the budget of this movie remake, it does a lot to get inside your head and scare the bejeezus out of you. The special effects are exceptionally cheap but well realized enough to make you marvel at the production crew's genius.</P>

Unfortunately, the television series is only available in the United Kingdom. If you want your thrill in North America without having to bother with regionalization issues, the Hammer Horror film should be good enough.</P>

Madeleine L'Engle has been honoured by the Newbery Award twice. As many know, she won the 1962 honour for her classic "A Wrinkle in Time". Her second honour came as an honourable mention in 1980 for "A Ring of Endless Light". Reading this book, the only surprise to me is that it did not win the Newbery Award outright. It certainly deserved to.

"A Ring of Endless Light" is a deep and complex book about death and its place in life. It is so good that it overshadows the rest of the Austin Family series of novels, particularly "Troubling a Star", which follows it in the series. Madeleine is very at home here with the characters of the Austins and tells a compelling story of their last summer with their grandfather, who is dying of leukemia.

Fifteen-year-old Vicky carries off the story very well as the narrator, getting the reader deeper and more personally involved with the characters. The story of her summer is alternately funny, touching, uplifting and very sad. "A Ring of Endless Light" will hit anybody in the gut who can remember losing their own grandparents. The weight that's placed on Vicky's shoulders throughout the book makes my heart ache.

This ache is emphasized by the other events of that summer, with the normally lovelorn Vicky (quite to her shock) finding three men in her life. Not only is she pursued by the staid but sympathetic Leo and the fascinating but dangerous Zachary, but she develops strong feelings for the distant Adam Eddington, a scientist friend of her brother John who enlists her help with his project on communicating with dolphins, and who finds himself being emotionally drawn towards this interesting young woman.

Some may think the premise of communicating with dolphins and learning from their spiritual sides to be silly, but Madeleine has the guts to pull it off. Those readers should find more to like, anyway, in Vicky's rapport with Adam, and the shocking personal climax she faces in the final chapters.

This book is highly recommended, and one which I'm sure many will cherish.