Last year, SCENIC WRITER’S SHACK brought you the story of Brisbane-based author Doug Rowell (HERE).

Doug was having quite the time of it going up against a company called XLIBRIS PUBLISHING who he claimed had dudded him royally on multiple fronts.

Now comes a similar hard luck story involving disgruntled authors and an Australian company called STARFISH BAY PUBLISHING.

Australian news show A CURRENT AFFAIR broadcast this story on their program last night –

What’s starfish and 1960’s tv show GILLIGAN’S ISLAND got in common? Go HERE to find out.

I’ve been enjoying the heck out of an old Hammer Studios film titled THE HORROR OF FRANKENSTEIN.

Campy horror with a quintessentially English flavor set in the Victorian era makes for one gi-normous crackup in my book. It’s not out and out silliness like the Carry-On movies but more subtle, gothic-spiced weirdness and absurdity that’s on show.

The acting is deliciously theatrical, while the sets are lavish – comedically so. A vibe of horny decadence (took me a few attempts to nail down that description) pervades many scenes.

Heavily made-up starlets with over-sized ‘heaving bosoms’ and coiffed hair do their best to spill forth from restrictive corsets and brassieres.

Amid the cobwebs, decorative candelabras and brightly lit fog pouring into every frame, THE HORROR OF FRANKENSTEIN (1970) is a retro feast for the eyes that makes for one helluva funny, dramatic and unhinged watch. I loved it!

In the clip below, look out at the two-minute mark for the rib-tickling dig at English manners when Victor Frankenstein (played by actor Ralph Bates) introduces himself to the marauding monster with a welcoming extended hand and a cheerful “How do you do?” What a riot!

The scene below shows how THE HORROR OF FRANKENSTEIN so perfectly blends the macabre with an air of upper-class refinement and privilege, resulting in a strange alchemy that keeps you entranced. Well, it did me.

Two proper English gentlemen – circa 19th century – resplendent in poet shirts with flared bishop sleeves and silk caveats draped around their necks – discuss the spoils of pilfering body parts from an anatomy class.

And then there’s the monster himself. You couldn’t really call him it scary. Goofy and odd-looking would be way more on-the-money. Played by 6’7″ (200cm) tall bodybuilder David Pearse wearing a giggle-worthy prosthetic skull-cap, it would be another 7 years before the same ‘actor’ would don the Darth Vader suit for the first STAR WARS film.

The British movie production studio known as HAMMER FILMS ended up making a total of seven FRANKENSTEIN movies. By all accounts, THE HORROR OF FRANKENSTEIN was the campiest and most satirical of them all.

To be frank (do you like that?) this post is close to three weeks late. August 30th, believe it or not, is the official day for NATIONAL FRANKENSTEIN DAY. Oh well, next year…

The day after this delightfully decadent gothic retro-watch, I stumbled upon this mini writing contest online –

With all things Frankenstein still fresh in my mind, naturally I came up with…

If you’re keen to give this comp – which offers cash prizes – a go, all the details can be found HERE

Pleasure again awaits you with this much deserved bonus clip.

Old skool atmosphere and opulence abound, including but not limited to – the grand fireplace complete with dancing flames, the over-sized bookcase to die for, the bejeweled chairs, mounted wall swords and austere portrait paintings, not to mention the plenitudinous candelabras and crystal glassware.

And keep watching at the end for the image that comes after the immortal line, “Now we’ll drink a toast… to the reunion of old friends”.

Reading kicks have taken me to some fun places over the years.

What’s putting the wind in my sails of late is all things TITANIC.

This binge kicked off after reading a historical novel titled THE MIDNIGHT WATCH.

It hooked me from first page to last, like a ship’s anchor embedding itself in the ocean floor – martime-y lingo if you please!

THE MIDNIGHT WATCH is the story of two ships – the TITANIC and the CALIFORNIAN.

Most everyone knows the story of the TITANIC. The SS CALIFORNIAN was the British cargo ship that was closest to the TITANIC when it sank. It is the ship accused of ghosting the TITANIC by ignoring its distress signals and refusing to come to its aid when needed.

The CALIORNIAN did eventually arrive at the sight of the tragedy in the North Atlantic Ocean, some 6 hours after the TITANIC had already descended to it’s watery grave.

By that time it could render no assistance. That job had already been done by the passenger steamship RMS CARPATHIA, which raced to the scene from 96 kilometers away to rescue 705 survivors from lifeboats.

The writing in THE MIDNIGHT WATCH is intricately, superbly, not to mention engrossingly detailed.

The nuts ‘n bolts (and rivets) minutiae of early 20th century ships and life at sea – things which for me had previously held little curiosity – came alive and kept me glued to the pages every bit as much as a captain staying with his ship (mari-timey!)

Upon (not to be confused with ‘a pond’ – which is more or less what the North Atlantic Ocean is a gi-normous version of) finishing the novel, I read a little about the author.

That’s when I understood why the story was threaded the way it was, with so many thousands of ship ‘n sea interesting specifics and technicalities (which I loved!).

Before becoming a writer, David Dyer was a lawyer at the London legal practice whose parent firm represented the TITANIC‘s owners in 1912. As well, he has also worked as a cadet and ship’s officer on a wide range of merchant vessels, having graduated with distinction from the Australian Maritime College.

Anyone remember those DUMMIES books from back in the late 90’s?

For someone on a TITANIC reading kick, naturally that was my next port of call. Jeepers! Am I crushing some interesting morsels and factoids with this one!

And after that? After that arrives in the post tomorrow. It’s the newly released (April 2026) story of the lone Aussie survivor of the TITANIC, Evelyn Marsden. Yep, this latest reading kick of mine looks to be currently unsinkable.

Is there a smooth-seas segue from TITANIC to GILLIGAN’S ISLAND? Well, not here there’s not. Instead, I’ll just say – fans of GILLIGAN’S ISLAND should click HERE.

JOEL STICKLEY is a British author, performer and creative writing tutor. A while back he published a book amusingly titled 100 WAYS TO WRITE BADLY WELL.

One failed ‘method’ the author highlights is fiction writers trying to inject tension into their stories with the inclusion of the adverb ‘suddenly’, – like we all knew how to do back in the 5th grade.

Kind of like this…

Suddenly, the room went deathly quiet. Then, just as suddenly, the doctor spoke.

‘I’m suddenly not so sure about this,’ he said, suddenly.

Just as he was saying this, he caught a sudden movement out of the corner of his eye. He spun round just in time to see the sudden arrival of an unexpected figure.

It was the soldier from the day before, suddenly limping in with blood on his hands. Suddenly, the doctor understood what had happened.

‘I feel suddenly… cold…’ the soldier suddenly whispered before suddenly collapsing. With quick, sudden movements of his expert but suddenly shaking hands, the doctor suddenly began to tend to the man’s wounds.

‘Nurse,’ he suddenly barked, ‘I need bandages and morphine. And make it sudden.’

Before he could suddenly save him, though, the soldier was suddenly dying in his arms. The doctor suddenly leaned in to hear his sudden last words.

‘Tell my wife…’ the soldier suddenly rasped, his breathing suddenly urgent and sudden. ‘Tell my wife… I suddenly… love her.’

And just as suddenly, there’s this from the time machine…

Suddenly in the mood for a bit of GILLIGAN’S ISLAND? Go on then… click HERE

Florence Henderson (1934 – 2016) had an entertainment career spanning six decades.

She was a singer, recording artist, film and television actress and Broadway musical leading lady. She also hosted several long-running cooking and variety shows over the years.

She is one of those performers who will always be remembered for one role, which in her case was the part of wife and mother Carol Brady in THE BRADY BUNCH (117 episodes/1969 – 1974).

Her auto-biography LIFE IS NOT A STAGE traces her early childhood, rise up through the ranks of musical theatre, stardom and later career highlights.

Henderson was the youngest of 10 children raised in rural Indiana. She learnt to sing at age two, and after numerous early successes in musical theater debuted on Broadway in the musical WISH YOU WERE HERE in 1952.

From 1958 -1961 she became the face of General Motor’s OLDSMOBILE, appearing in many ads and sponsored tv spots for the car brand.

She was also the very first female guest host of THE TONIGHT SHOW.

Her role as matriarch Carol Brady in THE BRADY BUNCH was initially offered to her best friend Shirley Jones (now aged 91), who went on to star in a similar role as mother Shirley Patridge in THE PARTRIDGE FAMILY (1970 – 1974).

In this scene from the THE BRADY BUNCH Season Two episode titled ‘Coming-Out Party’ – Carol Brady gets a surprise diagnosis when a doctor attends the house for her daughter Cindy…

Florence Henderson appeared in a number of movies in the later part of her career, including …

She competed on DANCING WITH THE STARS at age 76 –

Her autobiography is written in a warm, down-to earth conversational tone. I finished it in a week. For a slow ‘n steady / ‘dip in–dip out’ reader, that’s the literary equivalent of a standing ovation.

ACT – TING is a 6-part mockumentary comedy series set in a failing London drama school. It’s pretty funny. If you wanted to take a look, click HERE.

Fans of GILLIGAN’S ISLAND really should click HERE.

Mermaid-mafia and water warrior types of the swimming pool – we salute you!

Poseidon-class, nuclear-powered submarines envy your ability to motor up and down those roped-off water lanes, all the while a picture of liquidy concentration.

What we’re curious about though – besides whether you really can sweat under water- is “What in water-logged tarnation do you aqua-men and ladies think about while you’re, er… ‘kicking back’ ?

It can’t all be about stroke correction and counting laps, can it?

Well, can it?

It can’t. And it most definitely isn’t. Even the most focused, water-tight mind will eventually begin to wander and experience the dreaded ‘laps in concentration’.

When that happens, the lap-swimmers mind ends up resembling less a titanium-plated sleek super-sub and more the type of rickety, driftwood raft Tom Hanks’s character somehow managed to cobble together in CAST AWAY.

Or is you prefer, more like the time Penelope Pitstop teamed up with the Ant Hill Mob to cross the river. Actually, the stroke technique of the two brown hats at the back isn’t that bad.

Dust off the embarrassing speedos and get ready with the leaky googles.

It’s time to take a deep dive into the wacked-out, random thoughts more likely really going on in the chlorine-soaked mind of the humble pool lap-swimmer.

Fans of the classic TV show GILLIGAN’S ISLAND really do owe it to themselves to click HERE.

Mermaid-mafia of the swimming pool – we salute you!

Poseidon-class, nuclear-powered submarines envy your ability to motor up and down those roped-off water lanes, all the while a picture of liquidy concentration.

What we’re curious about – besides whether you really can sweat under water – is “What in water-logged tarnation do you aqua-men and ladies think about while you’re, er… ‘kicking back’ ?

It can’t all be about stroke correction and counting laps, can it?

Well, can it?

It can’t. And it most definitely isn’t. Even the most focused, water-tight mind will eventually begin to wander and experience the dreaded ‘laps in concentration’.

When that happens, the lap-swimmers mind ends up resembling less a titanium-plated sleek super-sub and more the type of rickety, driftwood raft Tom Hanks’s character somehow managed to cobble together in CAST AWAY.

Or if you prefer, more like the time Penelope Pitstop teamed up with the Ant Hill Mob to cross the river. Actually, the stroke technique of the two brown hats at the back isn’t that bad.

Dust off the embarrassing speedos and get ready with the leaky googles.

It’s time to take a deep dive into the wacked-out, random thoughts more likely really going on in the chlorine-soaked mind of the humble pool lap swimmer.

Fans of the classic tv show GILLIGAN’S ISLAND owe it to themselves to click HERE.

Mermaid-mafia of the swimming pool – we salute you!

Poseidon-class, nuclear-powered submarines envy your ability to motor up and down those roped-off water lanes, all the while a picture of liquidy concentration.

What we’re curious about though – besides whether you really can sweat under water – is “What in water-logged tarnation do you aqua-men and women think about while you’re, er… ‘kicking back’?

It can’t all be about stroke correction and counting laps, can it?

Well, can it?

It can’t. And it most definitely isn’t. Even the most focused, water-tight mind will eventually begin to wander and experience the dreaded ‘laps in concentration’.

When that happens, the lap-swimmers mind ends up resembling less a titanium-plated sleek super-sub and more the type of rickety, driftwood raft Tom Hanks’s character somehow managed to cobble together in CAST AWAY.

Or if you prefer, more like the time Penelope Pitstop teamed up with the Ant Hill Mob to cross the river. Actually, the stroke technique of the two brown hats at the back isn’t that bad.

Dust off the embarrassing speedos and get ready with the leaky googles.

It’s time to take a deep dive into the wacked-out, random thoughts more likely really going on in the chlorine-soaked mind of the humble pool lap swimmer.

Fans of GILLIGAN’S ISLAND really should click HERE

Mermaid-mafia of the swimming pool – we salute you!

Poseidon-class, nuclear-powered submarines envy your ability to motor up and down those roped-off water lanes, all the while a picture of liquidy concentration.

What we’re curious about though – besides whether you really can sweat under water – is “What in water-logged tarnation do you aqua-men and ladies think about while you’re, er… ‘kicking back’?

It can’t all be about stroke correction and counting laps, can it?

Well… can it?

It can’t. And it most definitely isn’t. Even the most focused, water-tight mind will eventually begin to wander and experience the dreaded ‘laps in concentration’.

When that happens, the lap-swimmer’s mind ends up resembling less a titanium-plated sleek super-sub and more the type of rickety, driftwood raft Tom Hanks’s character somehow managed to cobble together in CAST AWAY.

Or if you prefer, more like the time Penelope Pitstop teamed up with the Ant Hill Mob to cross the river. Actually, the stroke technique of the two brown hats at the back isn’t that bad.

Dust off the embarrassing speedos and get ready with the leaky goggles.

It’s time to take a deep dive into the whacked-out, random thoughts more likely really going on in the chlorine-soaked mind of the humble lap swimmer.

If you’re a long-time fan of the classic television show GILLIGAN’S ISLAND, you owe it to yourself to click HERE.

Recently, I enjoyed a retro-watch of a 1981 bank robbery movie called THIEF.

THIEF is written, directed and produced by virtuoso film-maker Michael Mann and is the precursor to what many consider his master work, another bank robbery movie he made 14 years later, called HEAT.

I’ve always had a dedicated love of the 1995 film HEAT. Watching THIEF brought all those feelings to the surface. I just knew I had to do something about it.

The result is a not-too-serious mini suburban noir I’ve titled NEIGHBORHOOD WATCH… AND LISTEN!

Hope you enjoy it and remember, as Tom Sizemore’s character in the movie memorably says… the action IS the juice!

Fergus Argyle didn’t just love Michael Mann’s 1995 masterpiece HEAT – he lived it. He’d been known to wear charcoal suits, stare intensely at the ocean, and, most crucially, had installed a high-gain microphone in the drywall shared with his neighbor, Gary.

Gary, also a HEAT devotee, was a died-in-the-wool ‘Waingro apologist’, which Fergus found personally offensive. For three nights, Fergus sat in the dark, wearing heavy tactical headphones, waiting for the ‘score.’ He wasn’t looking for bank heist intel; he wanted to hear Gary’s leaked copy of the director’s recently-updated definitive commentary.

Suddenly, the signal hissed to life.

“The air’s raw tonight, Ralphie,” Gary’s voice crackled through the receiver. He was talking to his cavoodle. “Just like the lighting in the diner scene. Pure steel blue.”

Fergus leaned in, his heart hammering. In the movie, Al Pacino’s Vincent Hanna listens to De Niro’s Neil McCauley drilling into a safe. Fergus adjusted his levels, feeling like a wild urban predator. He heard a metallic clink.

“He’s prepping the drill,” Fergus whispered, quoting the film. “Give me the room! Give me the room!”

Through the headphones, a low, rhythmic grinding started. Whirr. Scrape. Thud.

“Yes,” Fergus hissed. “The vault. The silicon carbide drill bit. It’s happening.”

Just then, the audio changed. It wasn’t the sound of a professional thief bypassing a security system. It was the sound of a man struggling with a cheap IKEA Allen key.

“This coffee table is a goddamn weak design, Ralphie!” Gary shouted. “The instructions are a lie! It looked so glamorous in the showroom, but now it’s just particle board and despair!”

Fergus frowned. This wasn’t the high-stakes surveillance he’d envisioned. He wanted the tension of the Far East National Bank job, not a middle-aged man wrestling with a side table.

Suddenly, a loud crack echoed through the wall.

“Slick!” Gary yelled, referencing the heist’s getaway driver. “I’ve snapped the mounting bracket! I’m down! I’m boxed in!”

Fergus couldn’t help himself. He grabbed his own microphone and keyed the frequency. “Son of a glitch! You’re acting like a cowboy, Gary! You want to be making moves on the street when you can’t even assemble a cheese ‘n crackers flat-pack?”

There was dead silence on the other end. Then, Gary’s voice came back, surprisingly friendly and, like his celluloid hero, unnervingly calm.

“Fergus? Is that you in the drywall? You’re doing the Hanna surveillance bit, aren’t you?”

“I… I have to leave in thirty seconds if I feel the heat around the corner,” Fergus stammered, committing to the bit.

“Ten degrees flat,” Gary replied, completing the quote. “Now come over here and help me lift this tabletop. It’s solid oak, and I think I may have pinned Ralphie.”

Fergus sighed, took off his headphones, and headed next door. His cover may have been blown, but the brotherhood of the cinephile remained.

This is an excerpt from one of HEAT‘s most well-known scenes, the restaurant meeting between Al Pacino’s character and Robert Deniro’s ‘Neil’ –

Now watch British actor Tom Hiddleston (‘Loki’ in Marvel’s THOR movies) do his absolute best impersonation of this scene…

This post has been brought to you by the new Harper Collins-published novel THE INFINITE SADNESS OF SMALL APPLIANCES.

Written by Canadian author Glenn Dixon and set in the near future, it tells the story of a sentient Roomba vacuum cleaning robot who sets out to save the humans in her house from a rising, evil technological power. Original, huh?