Salamandra and The PLM

These two fabulous dolls were made by Sabrina Beckstead and sent to us. Which gives me an opportunity to explain The PLM a bit.

sal-and-plm

In the first volume of Hopeless Maine, we never name the creepy blonde girl. In the script she’s The PLM – The Poor Little Me. Her name, and her very existence owe to a song by Eliza Carthy – Me and Poor Little Me. I started wondering what a Poor Little Me would be like as a separate entity, and thus the PLM was born.

Thank you Sabrina for the awesome crafting, these two dolls have cheered us on darker days and are a constant reminder of why we are doing this stuff. And yes, they do normally live in our mistletoe.

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Join our Vendetta

The Hopeless Vendetta launched some years ago as an accompaniment to the Hopeless Maine webcomic. We had time to spare, and the idea of a weekly newspaper for the Island of Hopeless Maine, running alongside the webcomic, appealed. Of course with the webcomic uploading at a rate of 2 pages a week, the time didn’t always match up very well, but no one minded.

A thing happened, and it was a thing we had not anticipated. People started joining in. They gave themselves Hopeless-style names and characters and started posting comments. Island life expanded, and we were very excited about this.

Then work pressures, and life pressures, and living on a boat and having no electricity or internet most of the time pressures took over, and that extra post and extra drawing per week became too difficult, and we left the Hopeless Vendetta to languish.

Times change… the webcomic has gone, we’re published by Sloth Comics, and the Hopeless Vendetta stirs and shifts in a way that may cause some people to think of dead and dreaming elder gods…

One of the things that hasn’t changed, is the way in which people are moved to create Hopeless things of their own. It’s one of the things I love most about this project – I came in as a collaborator, so I know all too well the lure of the island, its strange inhabitants and moody possibilities. I love it that other people respond as I did and want to get involved.

And so, the Vendetta shuffles a bit, dust falls from its ungainly form. Life, or something that resembles life, returns.

We’re going to be using this space once again to explore the life of Hopeless Maine beyond the graphic novel series. We’re throwing it open to anyone who wants to share – art, music, stories, poems, cosplay, creations of any sort and shape that capture something of life on a haunted, troubled sort of island in a cold, cold sea.

Wave your tentacles if you want to get involved.

A most Hopeless diet

We’ve been out and about… waving our tentacles in the ether

Druid Life

When I’m dealing with fantastical settings, I like to know how the practical details work. I think it’s getting the little, mundane things right that is key to making big, strange, magical things feel plausible. I experience this as a reader as well as when writing. I want to know where you go to take a shit, what people are wearing in terms of materials, how they keep warm, or cool, and what they eat.

Hopeless Maine is a lost island. It used to be more connected, and resources used to head its way, but these days, new materials either come from natural resources or wash in from shipwrecks. Recycling is a must. The Hopeless Maine diet is not for the squeamish. Food is in short supply, and you have to be willing to eat anything passably edible that comes along. This is why ‘bottom of the garden stew’ is…

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Book Review: When We Are Vanished by Nimue Brown

Some appropriate love for When we are Vanished by Nimue Brown (My partner in life and creative madness)

Meredith Debonnaire

When We are Vanished by Nimue Brown, art by Tom Brown

No corpse.

This is a book with serious depth. I am already fifty pages into my second read of it, because I just know that there are things I didn’t quite get the first time round. When We Are Vanished is a beautiful, quietly kaleidoscopic piece of work. It has the feeling of a fever dream just before waking, when sleep logic and waking logic meet for a few moments. It also has a wonderful, sometimes sharp sense of humour that runs through the entire book and that had me chortling to myself at more than one point.

The story is set in a world where computers stopped working. In fact, all silicon-based tech is now useless. Most of the plot takes place some years after this has become the norm, and everything is crumbling away and being reclaimed by nature. The remaining people soldier on through the new…

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The day I swapped ‘crime’ for a ‘majickal-hare’…

Here is a thing that will more than reward your time! (We are ‘Saztaculous Matlock Folk’, you will not be shocked to hear)

Niff Soup

writedeskConfession: I’ve killed people. Sometimes meticulously, sometimes casually, nearly always brutally and most probably unnecessarily.  Worse – I made money from it, initially felt overjoyed by the simple thrill of opting out of ‘the rat race’ with this new, exciting and often ‘sought after’ lifestyle.

‘Sought after’?  Allow me to explain…  Twenty-years ago I was a crime-writer, and had a series of what were termed at the time ‘psychological thrillers’ or ‘why-dunnits’ published by HarperCollins.  The theme was ‘suburban bleak’.  Living on the outskirts of London, I was able to swap the daily commute into the capital for a fictional ‘life of crime’. I was in my early thirties, blinded by the dubious lights of success and just about able to scrape a living by simply doing what I enjoyed the most – writing.

Friends at the time were envious, some wrongly assuming I was somehow fabulously wealthy (I wasn’t…

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Dusting off our tentacles

 

 

 

We have slept for a while.
Dark things dreaming.

Now we stretch, unfurl,
Unravel and recall.

Just a little bit hungry,
We are most fond of you.

Come and play with us.
Stay for tea.

For we are returning
As the year wanes

With plots anew,
Our tentacles resplendent.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Hopeless Vendetta rises from the dead this Autumn. Keep an eye on this page as we shake off the dust, for there is much afoot and we have plans for you.

Disaster Narrowly Avoided

(By Frampton Jones)

This enchanting creature very nearly seduced Doc Willoughby!

Last week’s thunderstorms and wild seas cast a great many fish onto the bridge, and our platform out on the Devil’s Fingers.  Amongst the more usual residents of the ocean, was a mermaid. Once the storm abated, her enthralling singing drew many folks towards the bridge. Those of us who remember the last such experience stuffed our ears with wax and fabric to keep the singing out, and mounted a barrier on the bridge to keep people at a safe distance. Some of our younger men (my unfortunate nephew included) made efforts to get out to the mermaid, but we were able to keep them safe.

Our venerable Doc Willoughby, who really should know better, was completely overwhelmed, and, unable to gain the bridge, threw himself into the sea. He was fortunate, his clothing prevented swimming, and the mermaid herself was unable to get down from the platform, or else he would surely have been drowned and eaten. Jed Grimes had to knock him unconscious before the good Doctor could safely be returned to dry land.

When Doc Willoughby regained consciousness, and had his ears blocked, he was all for a few of us going down the bridge and ‘killing the ghastly creature’. There was much support for this and some folks went so far as to arm themselves. However, Sophie Davies made a plea for compassion. She asked if anyone had the decency to return the mermaid to the water. Not a single man offered to help. (In my defence, I was preoccupied with keeping the bridge closed). Annamarie Nightshade stepped forward however. We were treated to the unlikely sight of the Reverend’s wife and the resident witch assisting the mermaid back into the water. Despite their fierce reputations, the creature did not attack either woman, and made a rapid exit. It is said to be tremendously bad luck to kill one,  but worse luck still to be lured by their fatal music.

Our Organ Restored!

What does God smell like?

(Frampton Jones)

I am pleased to announce that the repair of our church organ has been an almost complete success. Testimony Albatross’s fabulous device has been repaired by Balthazar Lemon, with some curious additions. The repaired organ was played this Sunday by Mrs Sophie Davies, and the music delighted everyone. Some doubts remain however, over the smells the organ now releases. The original Testimony Albatross design included a large tank, the purpose of which no one had truly understood. It is now full of fish (see photograph). I suspect it is no coincidence that, when played, the organ now fills the church with a distinctly fishy smell.

Questioned on the matter, Balthazar Lemon said, “It’s obvious this is how the organ was designed. It sounds better now.” He has a point. Filling the tank seems necessary. Lemon continued, “The organ is a thing of beauty, designed to bring us closer to God, through sound, scent and visual impact.” I asked him why he had filled the tank with fish, and not, for example with flowers, fruit or some other more appealing thing. He responded by saying, “What do you think God smells like?”

News for the residents of Hopeless, Maine.