Jar Jar Binks: A Matter of Perspective

By Owen Quinn author of the Time Warriors and Zombie Blues

photos copyright Owen Quinn

This to many swamped beneath the sea of new Star Wars shows from Disney may not realise it but there is one character that really should have been included in the resurgence but never will be. The sheer tsunami of hatred against him still to this day shocks me because it was not representative of the entirety of Star Wars fandom. That character is Jar Jar Binks.

A certain section of fandom seems to think they speak for everyone and own Star Wars. Their opinions matter and that’s it. It was idiots like this that forced the Twitter account cancellation of Kelly Marie Tran’s Twitter account when she received a backlash about The Last Jedi similar to that experienced by actor Ahmed Best who portrayed Jar Jar. He was driven to the brink of suicide by them which is disgusting to say the least.

And the reason I know these people that think they speak for everyone don’t is simple. My son was young at the time of the release of the Phantom Menace and just like every child back then, they loved Jar Jar Binks.

There;s no doubt that Phantom Menace was a terrible movie but George Lucas designed Jar Jar for the kids to be a goofy fun character amid what is quite a dark movie with full on invasions and a terrifying new villain in Darth Maul. Binks was a friend and confidant to young Anakin but by the end of the movie, he hatred towards Jar Jar was already swelling. People were saying he was racist and this completely chnged the fate of the character.

Originally he was to be part of the main cast in all three movies yet Jar Jar was reduced to an almost cameo role for the following two, Attack of the Clones and Revenge of the Sith. It was a shit move especilly damaging to Ahmed’s ego. He more than likelyy felt he had done a bad job and felt responsible but he dd a great job. Imagine being trashed for doing your job every day despite following the guidance of your boss and job description.

The figures and toys the kids I knew all wanted Jar Jar and they laughed at his antics eg during the pod race and the battle droid battle at the end of the movie. But if you were a certain age, this was sacrilege to what Star Wars stood for. So what does Star Wars stand for? I thought it stood for the entire family having a great time adult and kids alike. I thought it stood for family nights out and memories being made. They certainly were in our house and I can tell you to this day my son still likes Jar Jar as do I.

It was the intention that Jar Jar was to be revealed as a Sith Lord, placed by Palpatine to stay close to the Jedi before the fateful night of Order 66 when he would be revealed as his true self. This has been visualised by clever people on YouTube and they have done an awesome job. Now wouldnt that have been a kick in the balls ala I am your father? This would explain why Jar Jar convinced the Senate to give Palpatine control leading to the birth of the Empire.

I know when we went to see Attack of the Clones, the kids were seeking more Jar Jar and were disappointed. Personally I feel George lost his nerve and should have stuck to his original Sith plan and run with it. Exactly how much money would he lose by putting Jar Jar in the two movies? Probably nothing mostly because the haters will still go and see it. What were they going to do? Stand outside the cinema and protest just like Father Ted? Down with this sort of Gundan!

It’s a pity that never happened because I would have taken great pleasure in telling them to fuck right off. It’s a fantasy movie for kids. They forget when the first Star Wars movies came out they were kids and just like me were caught by the droids and Wookie straight away. How dare they take that away from a brand new generation who were going to see their first Star Wars movie on the big screen ever because they couldnt see the big picture.

At the end of the day folks this isn’t real whether you love the Jedi religion or not and walk about your house in Jedi robes or not. That’s your choice and fair play to you because you’re not taking away from the new fans’ enjoyment. At Least you are out there leaving kids in awe of meeting a Jedi. You see the wonder in their eyes which is brilliant in stark contrast to these nay syers who ruined what could have been a great storyline.

I do wonder how much George diluted the character to the point Jar Jar is responsible for the birth of the Empire. I also have to point out that it is alleged that JJ Abrams wanted to put the skeleton of Jar Jar in the The Force Awakens desert scenes as an Easter egg. If that is true it portrays a real sad sense as people in creative positions of power need to stand by their convictions regardless if the world disagrees. They don’t speak for anyone else.

And the reason I say that is because I dared say that I thought Rogue One was a mess which it was with stuff shoehorned in and Galen’s hole made no sense. I got to see the premier and all the post said was, I;m not going to be a sheep but Rogue One is a mess. The shit I took was unbelievable. People unfriended me. They said I shouldn’t have posted my review. I didn’t. I posted an opinion, nothing else then a Hollywood actor attacked me calling me a dick. Not that it bothered me at all as I’ll never be a sheep and Rogue One is still a mess (Peter Cushing voice does not match the face, just saying) but it just showed that fandom demands solidarity and to speak with the same voice. To hell with that. Bile like this impacts the generation following us who will not understand why the likes of Jar Jar are suddenly in the background. In fact when you rhink of it the same happened to Rose when her entire storyline was dropped for Rise of Skywalker. Did anyone ever support Ahmed from the studios or any of those fans that bashed his chracter? Did anyone ever apologise to him or say it’s going to be fine? I would love to know. I like Jar Jar, He will always have fans in our house. I just wonder what character will suffer the same fate and if so hopefully someone will stand up and disagree. Thankfully the prequels have undergone a new appreciation and Ahmed is finally feeling the love of fans for his work indeed when he appeared as JJedi Master Kelleran Beq that rescued Baby Yoda in the Mandalorian the night of Order 66 his action figure immediately became the most demanded. Some even created custom made figures of him. Now that is what fandom should be not that bile section. We as fans must not allow them to speak for us or take away our enjoyment. The mouse owns Star Wars nobody else. Have an opinion by all means and there is stuff I do not like but I will not shove it down anyone’s throat. Like life you got to take the bad with the good.

So in anticipation of this article I bought a new Black Series figure to show you keyboard warriors who believe they own Star Wars or any other franchise.

Book Excerpt: The Time Warriors: The Belbridge Mystery

By Owen Quinn author of the Time Warriors and Zombie Blues

A trip to the old Wild West town of Belbridge brings the Time Warriors face to face with an old enemy. The arachnoid Mentara have harvested the townspeople and left it a ghost town. Along with sole survivor Elijah, Varran, Michael, Jacke and Tyran find themselves trapped on the Mentara homeworld.Deep in the heart of enemy territory they discover deadly secrets and the lethal leader of the Mentara forces, General Cade. The race is on to save the people of Belbridge from the Mentara food harvesters before Cade uses the town as the launch pad for the total domination of Earth. When Varran, Jacke and Michael are kidnapped by a new faction of Mentara, Tyran and Elijah are left to face the horrors of the Mentara agenda. What they find will change them forever. Who are the Nasgul? Why has General Cade been waiting for Varran? Who are the butchers of Carden? What will Varran do when he faces the most impossible decision of his life? A decision that will determine who lives and dies.

Everyone was heading outside into the gloom in an air of subdued murmur at first. Elijah swigged his bourbon down in one gulp burning his throat before following the relieved Jake.

Horses were whinnying and rearing in panic. The dull vibration punched the air repeatedly like an unwanted intruder trying to smash down a stubborn door. There was a dust cloud stirring from the force of some sort of wind pushing down from above. Shielding his eyes from the dust Elijah squinted at the sky. He was scarcely able to believe what he was seeing. Along with everyone else the gambler wondered what was this thing above them was. Had I been sent from a hidden people they had not yet encountered to reclaim their home from the savage white man? Could it be that the indigenous Indians were not the only civilisation inhabiting this land after all? It was after all a vast continent gouged with mountainous canyons and gorges that could hide entire cities. Elijah remembered the whispered stories of impossible doorways to other worlds, dark alien creatures and strange happenings lurking in the desert. Indians that came to town told stories of a mystical lands and people that retreated like a tortoise into its shell in fear of the white man. Dark forces coiled the land seething with infinite patience, waiting for the day to reclaim it from the invaders. There were many creatures of legend that lived in those shadow places between the tick and the tock of night and day. Skinwalkers, werewolves, giant desert lizards and thunderbirds were just some of the dangers Elijah had heard all about from those that drifted into the bars back in Quebec and here in his new home of Belbridge. Looking up, Elijah now firmly believed every story he had been ever told.

It was then that the milling streets lit up with the shimmer of pulsing pillars of purple light. My God, was this heaven or hell itself breaking open before their eyes? Glancing to his right, the gambler saw old Father O’Malley tightly clutching his bible. His face was a tapestry of rapture. He saw tall unearthly figures begin to form in the purple pillars of light. Was this the end of days? Were these beings angels or demons come to carry the people off? Stunned, the gambler could only stare open mouthed as the middle aged minister’s tapestry unravelled into one of total cold abject fear. Following his gaze, Elijah finally saw what was crawling from those pillars of lights.

Demons.

They were huge; inhuman distorted heads atop taut muscled bodies immediately began looking eagerly around. Burning multiple black ovoid eyes quickly scanned the crowded streets of Belbridge almost in delight. These athletic four armed lithe torsos were mounted on impossibly bulbous arachnid bodies flanked by six segmented powerful legs like great thorough bred race horses. Thick black hair, spines like in nature covered every inch of their bodies.  They scuttled along on their multiple segmented legs that could skewer a man where he stood like a rapier. They held bolas and some type of gun with nets they aimed at the townspeople. With a whoosh of compressed air the nets flew from the weapons. They slammed into people taking them down in a swarm of red energy. Elijah knew these tarantula centaurs were the relentless slavering monsters that screamed in a slumbering child’s nightmares. Set across their awful faces, burning multiple ovoid red and black eyes coldly scanned the streets of Belbridge. Seeing the frightened citizens there was a definite ripple of intense excitement. A chorus of terrifying high pitched screeches ripped the air like a war chant.

The result was instantaneous. Raw terror exploded like an atom bomb among the townspeople. Three men and a woman close to Elijah turned to run. In a heartbeat they were felled by one of the nets. They crackled with hot red energy that dropped them into oblivion.

In their confusion the townspeople had unwittingly gathered in one place making them easier targets; the proverbial lambs to the slaughter. The air bore silent witness as it bled with the futile cries of the damned.

Squeezing his eyes shut to block out what he was witnessing, Elijah prayed but in his heart he knew God was not listening right now. Even Cork born Father O’Malley would admit God had closed his eyes on the town today. The world was going to end in a storm of dust and terror with no hope of divine intervention.

Elijah’s head snapped round at a sudden cry of fear.

Young willowy Jimmy Mellor was no more than fifteen years old, face full of freckles with a mop of mad red hair. He was training to be a barber with Mister North in the hopes of moving one day to one of the bigger cities. Crying out in fear, Jimmy was scrambling backwards along the ground. His eyes were locked in wide terror towards the rear.

For a moment Elijah thought he was being pursued by the demons until something else otherworldly caught his eye. A rat was swiftly scuttling across the street towards Jimmy. It wasn’t a rat he realised. It looked like a large wood lice. He had never seen one of them move so fast or grow to that size before. It was racing on a hundred grey white legs and intently heading straight for Jimmy. The poor kid couldn’t outrun it. It what seemed like a second the thing had scuttled up Jimmy’s torso and straight into his open mouth. It happened so fast that Elijah couldn’t process it for a second. Jimmy fell back choking. His skinny dirt covered frame began to convulse uncontrollably.

A sick deep gurgle accompanied the violated red headed teenager’s fitting. His poor head twitched so violently that Elijah thought his neck would snap.

Suddenly through the haze Jimmy rolled over on to his side directly in Elijah’s line of sight. Recoiling fearfully, Elijah realised Jimmy’s blue eyes were as dead as stone. He began to mourn the loss of one so young until the corpse’s head jerked suddenly.

To his horror, Elijah stared as the dead kid’s skull pulsed and stretched before splitting wide open. Trying to not retch, the gambler heard the skull bone crack. The hair and scalp peeled back like ripe fruit. Red blood poured out mixing with the dirt on the street. It matted Jimmy’s red hair thickly as the back of the lice thing protruded from the top of his head. Helpless to stop it, Elijah couldn’t help himself. He threw up there and then. Wiping his stained mouth on his sleeve, he stared in horror as the serrated back of the thing began to rise and fall as if it were breathing. Like a broken puppet on broken strings, Jimmy then pushed himself to an upright position.

A familiar voice caught Elijah’s attention. With a horrified gasp he saw Sally approach Jimmy. She had obviously seen him fall. They were friends so Sally was just being her usual caring self. Biting his fist hard so as not to cry out, Elijah watched her concern turn to terror as she stared at her friend. Blood was trickling down Jimmy’s youthful face into his unmoving eyes. Elijah began to shake as he saw Sally run screaming in terror away from the dead Jimmy. She was fleeing with absolutely no sense of direction, clashing with others running in all different directions. The storm of dust hindered everyone’s sight resulting in painful collisions and mayhem as the instinct to flee gripped them all. Those crackling nets were dropping people where they stood. Her heavy skirts caused Sally to trip. Elijah had bitten into his fist so hard, he had drawn blood. Cowering with fear he daren’t call out to her. Elijah couldn’t reach out in time anyway. No doubt the demons would surely take him too. The last thing the gambler saw was Jimmy grab Sally by the hair before getting lost in a mass of people, demons and dust. Telling himself that someone had to survive to tell what happened here gave Elijah little comfort as he could not deny his cowardice. He heard his inner voice spitting at him in disgust. Even as he thought it Elijah knew he would be put in a mad house. No one would believe him. It was so outrageous even he feared his own sanity would totally shatter under the stress. There was only enough room under the watering trough for him, only him. Maybe that was what God had intended all along. The demons would never see him so low down. They were so tall that this crawlspace would never even cross their minds to look in. He was so afraid Elijah could scarcely believe they were real. His ears were hurting from their high pitched cries. It sounded like the hungry chattering teeth of eager Armageddon itself.

Book Excerpt: The Time Warriors: The Return

all rights copyright Owen Quinn

The below is an excerpt from the story the Return which forms part of the new Time Warriors book Only The Dead Get Off At Kymlinge and Other Stories available now on Amazon with 3 variant covers to choose from.

lavours; the world’s gone nuts for it.”

 With a nod, Rachel had accepted the bottle and money off coupons, put them in her trolley and went on about her shopping, wondering as she went around the shelves if she should put a patent in on some of the products that had yet to be invented and take their place in household cupboards. But she smiled at the thought of Varran’s face if she did. He’d probably think the universe would implode.

Varran was never far away, eager for their help and company. Sometimes this human form was so restrictive, incompatible with her dreams of being part of the dimensional fields again. It was trying for her and she knew she had been a bit sharp with Michael recently as if she blamed him for her life now leaving her slightly guilty. It was a feeling that was an ache in her that she couldn’t share with Michael. He’d take it the wrong way and over compensate making things more uncomfortable between them. Their sex life had dwindled somewhat and she could see the confusion in his face when she told him she was tired or had a headache. She knew he wanted more kids and something told her he was on the cusp of asking her to marry him. The thought of it scared Rachel when she compared it to life as a Ganti among those limitless vistas free as an eagle. How could she take Sarah away from that and where would she go? Maybe if she rode it out these thoughts would pass in time. Would the normality of the twenty first century reduce her in some way?

 Until Rachel could sort it out in her own head then she couldn’t expect Michael to understand so right now it was all about Sarah. All she wanted was a tea party on the patio. She never mentioned any memories of being part of the Ganti and maybe that was due to the racial memory gene passed down from Michael.

 And Sarah often stayed with Jacke or Tyran at their homes, giving Rachel and Michael some private time awkward as it was at times. Inwardly she thanked her blessings for such an extended family. She knew now why Michael was so close to them.

Even he had changed since they started living together. He had consciously or subconsciously adopted this “Father” mode where he tried to seem the sensible dad and show a good example but fell badly with his language.

Whatever, thought Rachel. He was just as silly and gormless as she remembered and he could put on all the severity of dad knows best but Sarah had him wrapped round her little finger. He was a good man and partner but it would all be easier with a manual on how to deal with the obstacles we put in front of ourselves.

 Come to think of it Michael was quite dominated by all the women in his life which wasn’t a bad thing, Rachel decided.

“Nearly home Sarah!” she called to the back seat where Sarah shifted excitedly and clapped. Rachel swung up the bottom of the Station Road leading to the cul-de-sac where they lived. Feeling slightly guilty at her secret, Rachel decided to suggest she and Michael go to the movies tonight, maybe have a meal.

 “Speak of the Devil,” she muttered as she saw Michael strolling down the road, jacket buttoned and hands buried in his pockets against the cold September day. Rachel saw he was wearing new trainers which she hadn’t bought him. He must have ordered them himself online and forgot to say she thought. Smiling, he waved as they pulled up beside him. Leaning down to the passenger side as Rachel lowered the window, he grinned at his daughter and winked at Rachel.

“Alright family?” he asked chirpily.

“Where are you going?” Rachel asked him.

“Just down to do the Lotto. Although why Varran won’t let me slip forward to tomorrow and get the numbers I’ll never know.”

“Probably something to do with changing the timelines, imploding timelines, cheating fate, that sort of thing,” Rachel droned. “It’s the same reason you can’t go back and buy all that Action Man stuff and sell it for a profit boxed.”

“He’s such a mood hoover,” Michael griped. “Well, the next time we’re in the future, I’m going to have a quick peek. And next time we are in the 70s and 80s, I’m so grabbing some Action man stuff; I don’t think a few action figures and vehicles will destroy the world,” he decided. “Sarah, want to come to the shop with me?”

Sarah gave him a stare from the back seat, settling her expression that conveyed all seven year olds knew best.

“Daddy, we’re making cupcakes with Nana!” she stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Michael frowned. “Oh sweetie, Nana had to go out with her friend Harold. She won’t be back for a while.” Harold wasn’t exactly Maisy’s boyfriend but close enough whom she’d been seeing for over a year now.

“She never said anything about seeing Harold today,” Rachel remarked puzzled.

“It was out of the blue. Harold has a boat. It sank or something with the bad weather last night. I don’t know. I don’t ask,” Michael remarked.

Sarah looked crestfallen.

“Why don’t you come with me and you pick our numbers for tonight? The lady might give you one of those pens and when Nana comes back you can use it to write down her recipes.”

Rachel nodded.

“That’s a good idea. It’ll give me the chance to put these groceries away. Tell you what I’ll get the ingredients ready and we can start baking when you and Daddy get back.”

 This satisfied Sarah. Rachel leaned back and helped Sarah undo her seatbelt. Michael opened the car door and gave the little girl a hand to get out.

“Won’t be long,” he smiled, closing the door and thumping the roof twice to signal for her to go.

Rachel pulled into the driveway and got out, opening the car boot release. She tutted. I’d better open the front door first, she thought.

She fumbled with the set of keys, selecting the front door one. She went to put it in the lock when the door opened. Her face fell.

“What are you doing here?” Rachel stared at a surprised Michael dumbfounded.

“I kind of live here,” he answered unsure what Rachel was talking about. “Is this you behaving weird again?”

It was a pointed remark which wasn’t lost on Rachel who didn’t acknowledge it otherwise it would open a can of worms she wasn’t ready to deal with. A deep dread began to swell in Rachel making her skin crawl.

 “Everything alright Michael?” came a voice from the kitchen. Rachel’s heart almost stopped. It was Maisy.

“I thought Maisy had gone with Harold to the boat,” she breathed fearfully. “I thought you were going to do the Lotto.”

Michael tilted his head strangely at her.

 “No, what’s wrong Rachel? Is Sarah in the car?”

Sheer terror twisted her inside as Rachel turned and ran back down the street calling for her daughter. Her legs pumped like an Olympian athlete. Her heart pounded as terror gripped her every nerve. Michael took off behind her, leaving Maisy standing worriedly at the front door.

 Michael caught up with Rachel at the end of the road where she was looking frantically up and down. The traffic buzzed past uncaring. Catching up to her, Michael grabbed her by the arms whirling her round, demanding to know where Sarah was. Hysterical, Rachel stared at Michael in sheer fear pulling free from his grip.

Sarah and the other Michael were gone.

Paul O’Grady Tribute

By Owen Quinn author of the Time Warriors and Zmbie Blues

By Owen Quinn author of the Time Warriors and Zombie Blues

My three favourite comedians n the world include Paul O’Grady aka Lily Savage and it is with genuine sadness that I am writing this tribute following his untimely death at 67.

As his drag queen persona Lily Savage, Paul smashed on to our screen in a flurry of beehive hte hair and mouth like a sewer. Like Billy Connolly Lily spoke my language; Provident cheque, shoplifting, anti smokers and relationships. To this day and for the rest of my life, I will always seek out Lily Savage on Youtube because she is guaranteed to make me laugh. Whether it be the Lily Savage show, Paul O’Grady chat show, Blankety Blank or being interviewed on Michael Parkinson Paul is hilarious. It was a brave move to ditch Lily just to be Paul O’Grady but it was clear he didn’t need drag to be as witty and funny as Lily ever was.

His greatest gift was he connected with people and knew their struggles in life. When you read his autobiographies you understand how his life experiences and comedy were so closely entwined. When you read the chapter about the Liverpool riots then you understand why all you need in a riot are flat shoes, a pram and an ashtray in a sock to belt a copper. It is clear these deeply affected him. He knew what it was to be skint and what it was to struggle. Paul was a fighter, not afraid to voice his opinion and hated branding people especially working class people like the Daily Mail did. Of course in later years his love of dogs became a prime time show still airing now. He was a huge sci fi fan and longed to be on Doctor Who and guested as himself in the Stolen Earth. He also loved The Avengers and Cagney and Lacey, shows I grew up on. He did get the chance to play the Doctor in his Lily Savage Show along with Daleks and Cybermen. Told you he spoke my language.

But his acid tongue hid a deep love of life, people andd animals that touched the hearts of millions. Paul was a true one off the like of which we will never see again. But his time on Earth inspired people to be that much kinder to each other and to animals; to find the laughter even in dark times. He glowed with life and laughter and his legacy will keep us laughing for years to come. God help heaven now he and Cilla Black have been reunited. God will need a tramadol with them two hellraisers.

I think it’s time to erect that statue of him in Liverpool. He will never be forgotten and rightly so. As for now, I think it’s time for a few Blankety Blank outtakes on YouTube.

The Time Warriors: The Limbo People book excerpt

All rights copyright Owen Quinn

The following excerpt is from the Time Warriors story The Limbo People, part of the new book The Time Warriors: Only The Dead Get Off At Kymlinge & Other Stories. Available on Amazon now with 3 variant covers to choose from.

Her camel coloured coat fluttered gently in the chilling breeze. Protected from the cold in a red high neck jumper and coal black trousers and black polished boots she was silhouetted against the black and orange coal sky. The slew of rocks rearing up around her were like silent sentinels from an age long forgotten, warriors from the volcano birthed to defend this place. Looking out at the churning waves in a silver sea laced with white froth beneath an iron grey sky it looked as alien as any planet they had visited. Earth’s myriad variety of landscapes left all those who saw them in awe each with their own cruel beauty.

 Moving carefully down the slope of shale and sand she approached her friend. The soft crunch of the black sand beneath her boots seemed different somehow to sand on beaches back in Ireland like Helen’s Bay or Terrella Beach. The smell of the sea air was more than welcome to her senses. She loved the smell of the brine especially on early morning walks. Jacke fully intended to live by the sea some day.

“You do know they say never to turn your back on the sea or the waves here.  I think they say that to add to the mystery and menace of the place; maybe to inspire a writer or poet that comes along.”

With a slight bow of his head Varran glanced at her sideways.

“You’re going to slap me for not answering you aren’t you?” he asked timidly.

 With a taut look Jacke replied, “You know full well it’s my pet hate. Manners cost nothing.”

Her tone didn’t cover her obvious irritation at Varran’s unusual behaviour and when the usually calm Jacke raised her voice her distinct Belfast accent was so much more frightening than any monster’s roar.

“This is beautiful,” she remarked taking her phone out and snapping some photos. Varran failed to notice her take one of him. She looked at it on her screen and it just showed him in deepening murky shadow looking out across the sea. It was as if the tendril shadows were insidiously manifesting to reality reflecting whatever was going on inside his head.

 “Before you ask how I found you or even knew that something was wrong, I’ll give you a quick recap.” The Irish girl glanced at the fading orange sky and breathed. “You haven’t been the same since we got back from Gaston. It’s the memory thing the Greys told you; I get it. You’ve been irritated and masking it really badly as it gnaws at you. That mood was amplified by the sudden appearance of the Yetana. Missing someone you love I completely understand but I sense something else is going on with you. Question is when the volcano erupts what colour will the sand be; black or gold? Also, body language expert. Before you ask, Tyran rigged me up an algorithm to alert us to any teleport activity that may be unusual. You have a weird habit of going to out of the way places when something is bothering you.”

 Allowing himself a small smirk Varran commented that the girls really had thought of everything and just how well Queen’s university had trained her to which Jacke smugly replied, “You better believe it mucker.”

 Noticing the crestfallen Xereban shake his bowed head as if answering some unheard question, Jacke sniffed lightly as the chill was making her nose run. She pulled a handkerchief from her pocket to wipe it. Her fingers brushed against her phone which reminded her she had forgotten to let Stephen know what was happening. I’ll see him later, she thought and make it up to him.

“I can’t help if I don’t know what’s wrong. I can guess but need you to tell me. Just so you know, I really had to convince both an overeager Tyran and Michael to stay where they were otherwise I’ll have to signal them to come here and well, you know how persistent they can be.”

Varran threw her an almost nervous look.

“Like bloody terriers nipping at my heels,” he breathed the image in his head not giving him good thoughts.

“Let’s go for a walk along the beach.”

 Her tone was polite but firm. With a reluctant grunt as if he couldn’t be bothered making the effort, Varran jumped off the rock. He buttoned up his long black coat to the neck as the cold chilled his spine.

The Time Warriors: The Voalox Horror Story List

                   By Owen Quinn author of the Time Warriors and Zombie Blues

All copyright Owen Quinn

Here’s a breakdown of the stories in The Time Warriors Book 2 The Voalox Horror.

THE SURVIVOR:

Deeply affected by the events of the Infinity Web, Michael reaks Varran’s rules and takes himself off to the 24th century where he goes on a space cruise. He wakes up alone and discovers everyone has disappeared except for one terrified girl. As they try to find a way off the ship, they grow closer but something has other plans for them as the cruiser is locked on a course for unexplored space.

When I wrote this book it was intended to give the Warriors a hard time, and make them more fully rounded characters. Each should have a quality that would connect with readers and hopefully make them people you want to spend time with even in print.

The Survivor is a double edged title as it means both Michael and the girl he meets Rachel. This is a story of not feeling you fit anywhere but no matter where you go you can’t leave it behind. Your issues are within you so unless you resolve or face them, it will never end your discomfort. This is Michael’s story in every way as we learn so much about how bullying has affected him and the scars it leaves even as an adult.

Thi story is pivotal as it introduces Rachel, Michael’s love interest. Her role will have consequences down the line. All I will say is bring your tissues, you’re going to need them.

SOUL SCREAM:

While helping an alien race set up a new colony, Jacke is driven to the edge of insanity by nightmares. But something isn’t right and Michael and Varran grow even more suspicious. Who are the angels the children are seeing? What are the aliens covering up? How is Jacke connected to it all? When the truth is revealed, the Time Warriors find themselves sentenced to death with no way out.

It’s jacke’s turn in the spotlight. She was always the first character in my head when putting it all together. I wanted her to be a role model for people in the same vein as Nichele Nichols. She is black, Belfast born and bred and the survivor of a trauma which is instrumental to this story. Jacke is a reflection of the modern day with so many races coming together and the changing face of Northern Ireland. When I was at school, it was mostly white but now my son has met so many other kids from other countries now living here and learned about their cultures which is wonderful. Anyone can be a Time Warrior.

It’s also early stages for Jacke and the others so they dont really know each other but as a reader you get to peel away layers and see how they interact with each other.

THE VOALOX HORROR:

Victorian London is gripped by terror as Jack the Ripper has returned and is killing again . The Warriors team up with a fellow Xereban who is now part of Scotland Yard to solve the mystery.

What is Mr Wainwright hiding in the asylum? Why is their alien cells in the bodies of the dead? Worse still, how does Wainwright, a man from Victorian London know and hate Varran so much?

OK, have to say, absolute favourite and the first story I wrote for the series. I have always been a sucker for Victorian London with its fog and killers in the shadows so it was the obvious setting for the Time Warriors. It’s fun to see the Warriors first reactions to something they have only seen on movies and television and what surprises them about it witnessing it first hand.

To be honest I had no idea how to end this in regard to asylum owner Mr Wainwright but it was only when I got to the end it struck me how to explain how he knew Varran. It was a kind of eureka moment lol

I love everything about this story from discovering how the survivors blended into human society which nicely highlights Varran’s solitary existence, Tyran and Michael’s exploration of the asylm to Varran and Jacke forced down into the sewers to hunt for the killer.

Hopefully you guys will to.

LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT:

Tyran crashes on an apparently dead world but she is resued from death by a group pf diverse robots. As she learns of their past, she relaises she can never leave this place and must become theit protector. However a threat formed from her own blood has emerged intent on destroying everything.

A planet of robots is a sci fi staple but the trick is to find an angle different and entertaining enough to make it feel fresh. Trying to think of new robots without seeming to copy what has gone before is hard but I enjoyed the challenge.  My favourite is when Peggy Mitchell and Elvis….spilers. I was also able to tie it into the Time Warriors universe adding a new facet to it. But essentially it is a story about facing death and coping in life when those we love pass away. But it is also a story of finding hope even in the direst of places.

SECOND BEST:

When an old friend of Varran’s calls the team to a castle in Europe to investigate a ghost hunt gone wrong, They find themselves caught in a trap. Something has lured them here for a very specific reason and it seems intent on dragging them all to Hell.

I love a ghost hunt and there’s nowhere that invokes a spooky atmosphere more than an old European castle with a bloody history. Think castle, think Draculq, secret passages and exploring the dark with only a lantern. Something ancient stalks the corridors and it seems it has the Time Warriors in its sights. But why?

Second Best is a story about feeling left out and not good enough. It hurts when you are left out of something either by design or accident but it hurts none the less. You can’t help the anger that boils up inside you and festers. Some people get over it but it consumes others to the point they become solely focused on those that have hurt them. Beside that, it is about how much do we pay attention to each other and be aware of the feelings of others around us. It is about keeping in touch with those we know even if it is a five minute chat and being open about how you really feel.

You can get your copy of the book on Amazon now in paperback and Kindle.

How Cabin in the Woods Never Changed the Horror Genre

                         By Owen Quinn author of the Time Warriors and Zombie Blues

When Cabin in the Woods first came out, it was hailed as the movie whose ending would change the horror genre forever. As a huge fan of horror, I was intrigued and had to go see what this big revelation was all about. The trailer looked impressive especially the motorbike scene. This was going to be awesome.

Sadly the most awesome thing about this revelation was the hot nuts I munched on all the through the movie. Trust me, there is nothing like hot nuts to get you through the night. As the movie ending played out, I sat there and let a cry that involuntarily left my nut dusted lips.

“That’s fucking Buffy season 4!”

So let me explain that statement.

Cabin in the Woods was delayed for ages and almost never got shown but a deal brought it to the big screen It was written by Joss Whedon and Drew Goddard, produced by Wheddon and directed by Goddard. Now, let me just point out who wrote and created Buffy the Vampire Slayer….Joss Wheddon. I also point out that Wheddon was involved in the first two Avengers movies so Marvel fans were reeled. Let me also remind you that it had been long announced and filming images leaked on line of a pumped up Chris Hemsworth as Thor. The Marvel movies were gaining momentum like nobody’s business. Personally I think it was on the back of this that Cabin was released because a lot of people were swooning over a beefed up Chris. In Cabin, he is far from the muscle God I keep getting mistaken for. So these movies were released roughly a year apart. Coincidence? I think not.

Anyway, the movie was meant to turn horror on its head and be a comedic parody of the genre. It was going to finally reveal why every horror film had to have five certain types of people who are attacked and killed by the dark forces that hide in the dark.

You have the jock, the slut, the virgin, the scholar and the fool. Each was specifically chosen to go on a trip to the woods where they would always end up in a cabin, release some evil and die one by one. They think their trip was their idea but in fact is manipulated by forces unknown. This is not a formula for horror but a ritual that has happened for centuries. The gods are appeased and the world is safe until the next sacrifice is due.

All the while in a bunker a secret society is controlling the game to ensure the world doesn’t end. They are a cocky bunch with some familair faces among the cast from both Buffy, Angel and the West Wing. They take bets and party as they watch similar sacrifices all over the planet. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few it seems.

At the movie’s climax. two of the teeagers survive against the odds and infiltrate the inderground bunker. They discover an entire menagerie of supernatural creatures in cages like a zoo. To avenge their friends they release the monsters which tear apart the bunker personnel while a giant hand punches through the ground heralding the end of the world.

This is where “That’s fucking Buffy season 4!” cry comes in.

Everyone else was enraptured and looking round all I could think was, have none of these people actually seen Buffy season 4?!!? What a fake out. Change horror as we know it. All Wheddon did was rip off his own show and stick it on to a movie that seemingly was never going to see the light of day.

So let me set the scene for you. In Buffy season 4, Angel had gone to his own spin off series along with Cordelia and Buffy was now in college continuing the good fight. She gets a new boyfriend in the shape of Riley. He turns out to part of a secret military base under the campus called the Initiative. Thet They are capturing stupernatural creatures and keeping them captive in the base. Spike is captured s implanted with a chip that prevents him from harming Sanyone. Professor Maggie Walsh, leader of the Initiative has created a Frankenstein like being called Adam who intends to take over the planet. Adam is too powerful for Buffy and she has to tap into magic to stop him. In a James Bond epic climax, all the supernatural monsters are released killing the soldiers while Buffy and Adam battle it out. This is what happens in Cabin in the Woods but let’s face it Buffy did it much better.

While I understand how hard it can be to come up with good solid endings for stories, it also struck me that no one made the same connection as me. I even mentioned it on a  radio show I did and again the similarity seemed lost on the host who was a Buffy fan. But it’s clear that Cabin in the Woods, while entertaining, suffered from false advertising.

Cabin in the Woods didn’t redefine horror at all; that honour belongs solely to Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

Writing Tip: Talk to People

                     By Owen Quinn author of the Time Warriors and Zombie Blues

Before there were computers, typewriters and paper the only way to tell stories was by speaking. Many cultures including the Native Americans handed their stories down generation after generation teaching proteges how to carry on the tradition in the event of death. We had hieroglyphics and cave paintings but speech through the generations kept stories alive that would otherwise be lost to time.

We can talk and now people who cannot, communicate through devices that let them express themselves. Technology allows them to tell their stories instead of writing it down. Isnt that amazing that we have all this stuff to help document and record what is the human race?

The first time I visited London what struck me ws how no one spoke to each other. Here in Ireland you nod or acknowledge complete strangers in the streets but not so there. Think of all the wasted opportunites of gettig to know someone or simply chatting to them on a train journey where they tell you about their day or indeed you spark up  conversation on a mutual interest. The older generation still do it; talk to people even when they don’t get a response. You can see the disappointment in their faces when the conversation falls flat.

We are now a generation of faces in phones, where a simple act of kindness is twisted into something creepy and sinister. The concept of simple manners seems to be fading fast as more seem to think the virtual world is a real world with life long friends.

Tragedy and hitting rock bottom bring out your true friends and as painful as it is to suffer, it shapes you for the better making you see the souls you should surround yourself with. It’s almost as if people are afraid to talk to each other these days especially with WOKE aand fear of offending some snowflake. Fuck them. How dare they repress the simple joys of talking to a stranger and learning something new.

You never know who you are going to meet whether it be on a train, boat, in a pub or restaurant so engaging them in conversation may open you up to somehting or their mannerisms may stick in your head to one day find its way into a character.

I remember talking to someone and discovering they grew up in the same place as me at the same time but I was slightly older and moved on. How random is that I would meet someone in another city from my home. I also remember the time I was talking to someone who turned out to be the greatgrandson of actor Basil Rathbone of Sherlock Holmes fame. There is also the flipside which reminds us of what people deal with in their lives every day. You can moan about hings but when you meet a man that buys a sim to keep a phone alive that has his late wife’s voice on it is heartbreaking or the man that could not commit to a contract because he was dying of cancer. There are hopeful stories too like the man given months to live but was still going strong over two years later. That sort of thing keeps you grounded, humble and thankful but it sticks with you. Now you may not be a writer but when pain comes to your door, you remember these people and realise you can get through it and to enjoy it while it lasts.

Equally you could have a relative that tells you stories about the family history and some of the characters you may never have gotten to meet. You could be in a hospital ward with people that are former addicts who have lost limbs which they say have saved their lives to someone who emigrated decades ago to fish off the coast of Australia only to come back to Ireland where he lost some toes changing his life forever. You can only imagine what happened to them as you never get to see them again. Was that the end of their career on the waves? Did they get their new legs or are they still in a wheelchair?

My aunt used to tell us ghost stories that terrified us as children but instilled a lifelong fascination with the paranormal. It had the best effect on our imaginations when there was a power cut and you had to sit by candle light. until it was restored.

Everywhere you go you can come back with a story which you pass on to your family, your wife, your kids as these are all building blocks of our lives together forming its own story to tell after you are gone. It could be the time you opened a shower door in the gym only to find someone already in it. It could be the bald guy that uses a hairdryer to dry his pubes and inbetween his toes. Or the day you went for a drive and saw an elephant and travelled on a ferry for the first time. Not forgetting the flesh eating donkey that got pissed at you for running out of feed or being scared by a satanic goat.

In fact just by talking to your child about their day even when you don’t understand a word is precious and needs to be done rather than a social media post.

We as a species are walking history books and wells of anecdotes and tales to keep others entertained. Talking to others can keep friends and family alive in your heart as you share stories about those you have lost. But if you stick your head in a phone or computer you are losing out.

Talking to people is vital to your mental health because you get to see that you are not alone in whatever you are facing. There are others that have gone through the same pain you have and come through. A simple verbal reassurance and offer to listen can make a huge difference. We as a race share laughter and tears but life can make you feel it’s the first time it has ever hapened to someone.

When someone calls you or your child tugs at you for attention, shut that computer down and give them your full attention. It could be the most important story in your life.