April 2014


It has come to my attention that I haven’t given any writing advice in a long time. I myself am still learning an awful lot. I’ve been writing the same book for 4 years now and I’m on my third draft, so I’ve learned a thing or too on my journey towards the promised land of the published world.
One thing that has come to my attention whilst reading a How to Write book, “Dynamic Characters” by Nancy Cress, was the difference between close and distant point of views in third person. Of course I say third person because it is pretty much a given that first person is going to be a Close POV.

Distant POV

Let us start with distant POV. Point of view is the lens through which the writer, or narrator, sees everything. Reimagine the last movie you saw. The director no doubt uses many different kinds of shots. Wide shots are often used at the beginning of a movie to establish the setting. It might again be used later during the epic fight-off. Of course I have The Avengers in mind here, where the director used a mixture of wide-shots and close-shots to show the alien invasion of the chitauri. But how does this apply to the written word of fiction?

Nancy Kress states in Dynamic Characters that:

“Distance is the measure of how far away you, the author, are standing from your character as you tell the story.”

A distant POV is less popular in modern contemporary writing but it is still important to be aware of. It is more common when the external conflicts are more important than internal conflicts. The danger here though is getting the readers to truly sympathise with the characters. A friend lent me a copy of Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone a few years ago and I found that I felt too detached from Harry to really care. I could sympathise with him through many of his difficulties, and the abuse he suffered at the hands of his aunt, uncle and cousin, but I couldn’t feel WITH him and truly empathise.

In a distant POV, we might see and hear the same things as the main character, but we won’t be aligned with his thought processes. The narrative is separate from what the character is thinking and feeling. I have already mentioned it’s disadvantage but one of it’s advantages is that it enables you to concentrate on the action. This can add speed to the novel, which is ideal in an action book.

One example I would give is Anthony Horowitz’s Alex Rider series. Here is an extract from the first book, Stormbreaker:

He rolled out of bed and walked over to the open window, his bare feet pressing down the carpet pile. The moonlight spilled on to his chest and shoulders. Alex was fourteen, already well-built, with the body of an athlete. His hair, cut short apart from two thick strands hanging over his forehead, was fair. His eyes were brown and serious. For a moment he stood silently, half-hidden in the shadow, looking out. There was a police car parked outside. From his second-floor window Alex could see the ID number on the roof and the caps of the two men who were standing in front of the door. The porch light went on and, at the same time, the door opened.  

The first thing I should say is, a character wouldn’t describe themselves in this kind of detail, and certainly for no good reason. Alex isn’t dressing up for some party and checking himself out before heading out. He’s waking up at three in the morning because a couple of police officers are there with bad news. Similarly, when Horowitz then goes on to describe Alex’s housekeeper with this much detail, it is clear that this is the narrator speaking, and not the character.
Although this is a short extract, you should notice how Alex’s feelings and emotions are not in the equation. We see Alex from the outside. This is what distant POV is.

Close POV

In the debate between showing vs. telling, a close POV can help a writer SHOW the character’s thoughts. A close POV allows readers to delve into the minds of a character. Close POV is not quite first person, and it must be thought of as a camera mounted by your character’s head. We see and hear what your characters see and hear. The advantage of a close POV in third person is that you can get many of the same advantages of writing in first person, with the added benefit of being able to change character perspectives without confusing your reader. It is much easier to change a “she” to “he” perspective that an “I” to “I” perspective. That isn’t to say, of course, that it’s impossible. It just means limiting how often you change perspectives, and giving your charcaters more distinctive voices.

Here is an interesting extract from The Lost Hero by Rick Riordan, because I think he uses the 3rd person close POV rather effectively:

Leo’s tour was going great until he learned about the dragon.
The archer dude, Will Solace, seemed pretty cool. Everything he showed Leo was so amazing it should’ve been illegal. Real Greek warships moored at the beach that sometimes had practice fights with flaming arrows and explosives? Sweet! Arts-and-crafts sessions where you could make sculptures with chain saws and blowtorches? Leo was like Sign me up! The woods were stocked with dangerous monsters, and no one should ever go in there alone? Nice! And the camp was overflowing with fine-looking girls. Leo didn’t quite understand the whole related-to-the-gods business, but he hoped that didn’t mean he was cousins with all these ladies. That would suck. At the very least, he wanted to check out those underwater girls in the lake again. They were definitely worth drowning for.
A lot of the language the narrator employs is the same kind of diction the character would use. At this point, the main character, Leo Valdez, is about 16 years old. He uses slang like ‘dude’, ‘cool’ and ‘suck’. He describes the girls as ‘fine-looking’ rather than something more formal than ‘beautiful’ or ‘exquisite’. And a cliche like ‘so amazing it should’ve been illegal’ sounds rather like a teenager. The passage above is also interspersed with rhetorical questions describing the things of interest to the character. When he travels around camp, he makes note of many of the dangerous thins flaming arrows and explosives. It’s quite possible that there are many other more normal things at the camp, but Leo only cares for the things that appear to him as larger than life.
 Another thing to notice is the lack of tags. The author doesn’t write ‘he thought’ any point, which suggests a very close POV. Is it the narrator who thinks the underwater girls are worth drowning for? Is it Leo? Is there a difference between Leo and the narrator? When you notice that there is little difference between the narrator and the character, this is when you truly know that the POV is close, and tags are no longer needed.
But what about books where there seems to be a lot of tags and italicised thoughts where we still gain a great insight into the character’s minds? This is the middle POV.

Middle POV

I haven’t been able to find any articles or blog posts about this POV but it has been mentioned before. As you would imagine, Middle POV is somewhere between distant POV and close POV. We are given an inisight into the character’s thoughts from time to time, but there is a clear narrator feeding us the information. This is useful in keeping a sort of even tone throughout the novel, whilst also making us aware of the characters and their developments.

Middle POV is likely to use tags or italicise. Tags include, but are not limited to phrases like ‘he thought’, ‘he wondered’, ‘he mused’, and ‘he realised that’.

In my opinion, I think that Melissa Marr’s Wicked Lovely series are in middle distance POV. Here is an extract from the second book in the series, Ink Exchange:

While Niall may have rejected the Dark Court so very many years ago, he was still connected to them. It was his rightfuly court, where he belonged whether or not he chose to accept it.
As does Leslie. She might not know it, might not realise it, but something in her had recognised Irial as a fitting match. She’d chosen him. Not even riding with Gabriel’s Hounds was as satisfying as knowing that the little mortal was soon to be his, as knowing that he’d have her as a conduit to drink down emotions from mortals. The hints and teasing tastes he’d already been able to pull through her were a lovely start to how it would soon be. The Dark Court had fed only on fey for so long that finding nourishment from mortals had been lost to them – until Rabbit had started doing the ink exchanges. So much would be better once this exchange was finished. And she might be strong enough to handle it. Now he just had to wait, bide his time, fill in the hours until she was fully his. 
Idly, Irial needle Niall, “Shouldn’t you have a keeper or something, boy?”
“I could ask the same of you.” Niall’s expression and tone were disdainful, but his emotions were in flux. Over the years, the Gancanagh had continued to worry over Irial’s well-being – though Niall would never say it aloud – and something had made that worry far more pronounced than usual. Irial made a note to ask Gabriel to look into.

Now this is a fairly long passage, so bare with me.
I feel that some of what is stated is for the benefit of the reader. Irial knows how the Dark Court – the faeries he rules over – functions. His musings over how the court used to work, in comparison to his current situation, are more for the readers, so we can see just how bad things are. These thoughts are objective, and read a lot more like the narrator than the character.
 If this was in close POV, we would be feeling his emotions as he mused over the past. Instead, we seem to just hover outside his head, with the occasional delving into his personal thoughts, which are highlighted in italics.
When Irial interacts with his once-lover and close friend, Niall, now sort-of-enemy, we perceive that he cares about Niall, but we don’t literally feel his concern.

I hope that this was helpful. Another useful thing to know is the difference between Limited and Omniscient perspectives. Hopefully I’ll talk about this next week. For now, please just drop me a comment and let me know if my advice was helpful.
Thank you for reading 🙂

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For those of you who wanted to know what happened to Celeste, this is for you. Please leave a comment and let me know what you think of this and whether you want another another chapter, and if you have any specific questions you want answered.
Here’s the story. Enjoy!

The tall blonde girl stood before an oak table laid out with dozens of wine glasses. She was expected to polish all of them until they gleamed blindingly in the light. It had been a week since her mother had been burned alive by the master of the house, and a week since she had spoken. Celeste’s mother had paid for her crime, which had really only been a misunderstanding between herself and the young mistress.
I should have been the one to pay with my life, she thought to herself. My mother played no part in it.
The door opened and Celeste turned to face the guests. Her eyes opened wide when she made eye contact with the master of the house and another young man. She quickly averted her eyes and curtsied.
“Oh, it’s you,” the master said. “I had hoped the other one, Wilhelmina was here.” Celeste did not reply. It was neither her place nor her right to speak unless given permission. And even then, she had been unable to. The doctor had put it down to stress and shock. Although Celeste should have been imprisoned for her crimes, if not executed, the young mistress, Daphne Lully, had seen fit to keep her around to gloat about her mother’s death.
“Oh, but she is quite a fair specimen,” the guest replied. His voice was soft and clear but his words cut her like a knife. I am a person, Celeste thought. But she kept her silence all the same. Then she realised that the voice was familiar. No, it can’t be. “Might I take a closer inspection?”
“Of course.”
Celeste kept her eyes downcast as was custom for slaves when close to a superior. The man walked closer to her and with every footstep, her heart thudded that much louder. When he was right in front of her, he lifted her chin slightly.
“Look at me,” he said, and she was helpless to deny him. His eyes were green this time but as he gazed at her, the colour darkened, replaced instead by the obsidian pair that she had first been greeted with.
He combed through her short blonde hair, placing loose strands behind her ear. Behind him, Celeste’s master coughed to get the guest’s attention.
“It would be ill-advised to take that one,” the master said. “She still needs to finish her obedience classes, which she won’t pass until she starts speaking again.”
“She is a mute?” Quinlan asked, brow raised a fraction. But his gaze didn’t waver from Celeste’s.
“Only for the past week. The doctor thinks she went through a traumatic experience.”
“Yes, I imagine losing your mother is rather traumatic,” the faery spat. The amused expression Celeste had seen the first time Quinlan had visited was absent as he whirled around to face Celeste’s master. “Wouldn’t you agree?”
“I… I’m not certain I know what you’re talking about,” Master Lully stated.
“Of course you do. But I haven’t time to mess around. You will give me this slave and I will give you exactly what you deserve for her. I want the paperwork as well, of course.”
“Two hundred drachmas then.”
“For the crimes which she stands accused of and her obvious behavioural problems, she cannot be worth more than fifty.”
Master Lully’s lips pressed together and his brow knitted in anger. “Now, see here! This is a talented slave. How many slaves that can play the flute as well as she can are few and far so I will not accept anything less than two hundred.”
Celeste couldn’t be certain that her master knew who he spoke to. Certainly no one would speak to the Unseelie King in such a manner. But here he was, face red with fury, defying one of the most powerful beings in all the realms. Just as Celeste had done, for all the good it had done her.
“I’ll amuse you for the time being and offer you your two hundred drachmas.” Quinlan said. “Shall we shake on it?” He offered out his hand and Master Lully looked at it apprehensively, eyes narrowed at it as if it may have been a trap. But then he nodded and he shook the faery king’s hand.
“Deal,” he said. “Would you like to come with me to draw out the paperwork?”
And just like that, Celeste’s fate was left in the hands of the Unseelie King.
“I’d ask that the slave come with us so I can search for anymore defects I might have missed,” Quinlan said.
“Whatever for? You already said that you would purchase her.”
“I would ask that you remove her tracker.”
“That is against the law,” Master Lully said, eyes narrowed. But Quinlan only smiled back.
“And so is killing a slave. There are procedures to be followed. Even slaves are permitted a trial.”
“Are you a Peacemaker come to arrest me, or a customer here to purchase my slave?”
“The slave will suffice,” Quinlan said. The two eyed one another for a drawn out moment. Master Lully appeared stiff, his back erect, as though he may have to strike at any moment. In contrast to him, Quinlan appeared the picture of calmness. What did a faery king have to fear from a mortal Spellman?
“Come with us,” Master Lully said, pointing at Camila.
Celeste followed Master Lully and the faery king to an office. It was sleek and modern but it had a cosy feeling to it thanks to the electronic fireplace. Master Lully went through several of his drawers and came out with a device.
“This will remove the device in her rear,” Master Lully stated. “Come here,” he told Celeste.
“Be certain that it does,” Quinlan said.
Celeste walked towards her master and allowed herself to look directly into Quinlan’s eyes. A light amusement appeared there as though her insolence did not bother her. A crack rang through the room and moments later, Celeste felt a stinging sensation on her cheek. Master Lully had slapped her.
“Do not gaze in the eyes of your superiors, slave.”
“Please refrain from harming the merchandise,” Quinlan said.
“Until you pay me and sign that contract, she is mine to do as I wish.” Celeste ground her teeth together to keep her from doing something she knew she would regret. “Bend over,” Master Lully ordered.
Fear seeped its way through her then but she barely hesitated as she did as instructed. Her master lifted her dress and shame overwhelmed. Shame. What a useless emotion when your own flesh belonged to another. Her underwear was next and at this display, true panic overwhelmed her.
“Be sure to remind this one who the master is. I’ve heard of young men like yourself who wish to keep these base-born slaves as lovers and paramours.” Celeste felt something cold cup her behind. Cold heart, cold touch. He slapped Celeste’s rear then and she cried out. She knew it was not the force of the slap but rather the sheer humiliation of the act itself. “Slaves are lower than dogs. They have no loyalty and they must be kept under control by whatever means necessary.”
Tears welled up in Celeste’s eyes but she forced down the sobs that threatened to erupt from her.
“Care to hurry this along?” Quinlan asked. “I am not so fond of mongrels, myself but be rest assured,”— there was a tug at Celeste’s hair and she was forced to peer into those dark orbs – “she will know who rules over her.”
The faery king released her and her head sagged and she was staring at the floor again. Something cold touched her rear and a sharp pan pierced her there.
“The tracker has been extracted. You may dress, slave,” Master Lully commanded.
Celeste was more than relieved to dress herself, but whatever sense of modesty she might have had had been peeled away. As she pulled down her tunic, she saw her master give the tracker to Quinlan. He sat behind his desk and took a piece of paper from the printer.
“This is the contract,” Master Lully said. “You will pay the agreed two hundred drachmas.”
“Indeed,” Quinlan said. Celeste watched him play with the tracker. It appeared to look like a small coin, flat and round. Celeste detested that such a thing had been inside her, marking her as the property of someone else.
“Remind me your name again, please? Quinlan was it?”
“An old name, that one,” Master Lully said. “And what might your family name be?”
“My kind is not so keen on family names. You can make out the contract to King Quinlan of the Unseelie Court.”
Master Lully stared at the fey for a moment, and a nervous smile appeared on his face. A light chuckle followed. “You’re not serious?”
“The fey do not lie.” And then he let the Glamour drop. His hair and eyes darkened. The feature of his face sharpened, and a dark aura seemed to unfurl from him. “What are you waiting for?” Master Lully only stared at him, with his mouth hanging open. Quinlan stepped closer to the Spellman, causing him to reel back in fear. “Write it!”
“Of course, of course!” He reached for a pen and quickly scrawled out something on the paper. “If… if you could sign here, please?”
“Will you not be needing payment first?” Quinlan asked.
“No, no! Take her.”
“I wouldn’t wish to rob you. After all, we had an agreement.”
Quinlan raised his hand and a symbol shone over Master Lully. It might have been some ancient language. Celeste did not truly know. But that symbol held power in it and she could feel it deep within her.
Dozens of coins appeared from a void around the glowing symbol. Celeste watched as the drachmas pierced their Master Lully’s flesh.
                Master Lully’s growl should have scared Celeste. Inside, however, she felt a sense of joy. That is what scared her.
                More coins rained down on Master Lully, and blood poured from the wounds. His bright pleading eyes were seared onto Celeste’s memory but Quinlan showed no remorse.
                “One hundred and ninety five drachmas,” Quinlan said. “Now, I’m sure I’m missing something.” He tapped his cheek and then appeared to have a light bulb moment. “Five missing drachmas.”
                “Please…” Master Lully groaned.
                “I’m not certain you should have the right to live. Perhaps I will ask the girl.” The faery king turned to gaze at Celeste then. “Should he be permitted to live?”
                Celeste’s mouth was dry. She knew not what the right thing was in that moment. Everything seemed to blur into one. Her humiliation and anger. Her grief and malice. Count Lully would be her master no more.
                “No,” she said. Quinlan only nodded and a coin penetrated Count Lully’s heart.
                “Two hundred drachmas, in full,” Quinlan said. Then he took the contract and signed it. “I promised you that you would belong to me, and now at last, you do.”
                The faery king turned around to look at her, but instead of cowering to him, Celeste forced herself to raise her chin.
                “I will never belong to you.”
                “According to this contract, you already do, deary. And trust me when I say that I will make good use of you.”


This is a short poem I wrote quite some time ago from the POV of character from my current novel, Weaving Moonlight. I’ll not state which character because this poem is sort of spoiler-y. Do enjoy 🙂
I see a little more,
See a little further,
See a little deeper.
Still it’s not enough.
Like a telescope I examine,
Like a scientist I discern,
But how am I to truly know
Who you were, who you became?
Gaps appear in my perception,
My long lost once impression.
Do I need a closer inspection?
Further dissection of distant memories.
Were you here I’d ring your neck,
As it is I’ll wipe my tears,
Light a candle
Snuff it out.

Today I received something through the post. My grade 8 certificate for flute from Trinity Guildhall. It occurred to me some time after that this was it. It might be my last certificate or award for playing the flute ever again. I’ve since stopped taking flute lessons since starting my Computer Science degree. After all, there isn’t much point since I’m not going to be doing it professionally in the future and I’m already stacking up quite a nice debt. £9000 a year for my undergraduate education, not to mention I still have to pay for accomodation. Sure, the student loan helps, but it isn’t enough.

So in the grand scheme of things, what was the point? And why do I still play the flute? Because I love it. It’s an interest of mine, whether or not I end up playing with a big orchestra. And it’s the same for writing. The truth of it is that many completed manuscripts never see the light of day, and many more never even get finished. I’m not saying this to discourage anyone, mind you. Just know that if you’re doing the writing thing because you want to be famous, I’d advise picking an alternative career. Write because you have something to say. Or because your characters demand to be noticed. Mine do. I stay up at ridiculous hours sometimes to get short stories finished. One time, I wanted to write something serious and thought provoking but my MC was adamant that he really just wanted to get it on with a bellydancer.

So sometimes ideas will feel like they’re forcing themselves on you and sometimes you’ll be scraping the back of your mind for something new and exciting. Sometimes you’ll be bathing in happy comments from readers, and sometimes you’ll be swimming in the waters of your own sad little soul. The writing process is long and arduous but don’t give up. Set yourselves goals and give yourselves little treats along the way. Listen to your characters but if they start talking general nonsense, remind them who’s boss, and that as the writer, you are their GOD!

Just remember, if writing were easy, it wouldn’t be worth doing.

The king is dead! But the queen is alive. So who rules next? I suppose it’ll be his cuter little brother.
Admist the grandeur and splendor of King Joffrey’s wedding, who could guess that an assassination plot would be unfolding? Well, readers of the book series, I suppose. But the Lannisters seem to think they are untouchable since winning the war of the five kings. Joffrey’s dwarf reenactment is more than a little distasteful. After all, one dwarf was shown hitting King Renly’s butt in a lewd manner. Joffrey holds himself as victorious despite the fact that he did pretty much nothing apart from hide.

It’s quite eerie in fact that The Rains of Castamere was played at the wedding. The Lannister’s theme song playing at the king’s wedding should only reinforce their absolute reign but it does nothing but irritate Joffrey, who throws coins at the musicians and basically tells them to piss of. Was I the only one who saw this song as some sort of bad omen?

The bitchiness at King’s Landing is as exciting as ever. We have Jaime antagonising Ser Loras, and Cersei embarrasing Lady Brienne. And was I the only one who found it hilarious, when Prince Oberyn snubbed Tyrion? And can we please just appreciate the sexual tension between Oberyn and Loras?

But it’s the conversation Oberyn and Ellaria have with Tywin and Cersei that drew my attention. The threat Oberyn makes is more than a little worrying:

People everywhere have their differences. In some places, the highborn frown upon those of low birth. In other places, the rape and murder of women and children is considered distasteful. What a fortunate thing for you, former Queen Regent, that your daughter Myrcella has been sent to live in the latter sort of place.

I’m not sure how far he is willing to go on this threat, or whether it’s simply to gain the satisfaction of seeing the Lannisters squirm. Either way, it certainly adds something to the drama at the wedding. I love Oberyn and I hope he continues to strut around like he owns the place for a few more episodes.

Strut! Strut! Work it!

But even some the the events that occur prior to the festivities were of interest. Can we please give a minute of silence for the Tyrion x Shae ship? I’m not entirely sure whether this is the last time we will see her because we didn’t actually see her leave, but I find these GIFs very appropriate:


 And of course, Stannis is burning more of his own people. This time, it’s his brother in law. I quite liked seeing Melisandre talk with Stannis’ daughter. What piece of wisdom did she give the princess?
“There’s only one hell, princess. The one we live in now.” This may or may not be true.

All I know is that episode 2 of this season has broken the usual format in which the ninth episode is the most dramatic in the series. And I for one am quite glad. Even the form of this very episode was stellar. We had the death of the king sort of mirrored by the brutal murdering of an innocent by Ramsey Snow. And now that the king is dead, perhaps the Bolton bastard will be his successor of most hated character. But despite how twisted he is, I do have just a drop of sympathy for him, considering his relationship with his father. Still, Jon Snow had the same problem and he didn’t turn out so sadistic.

Now excuse me whilst I figure out why on earth it’s nicknamed “The Purple Wedding”…

Well, it seems it’s been a while since I have updated this blog but I still haven’t thought of any short story ideas so it looks like you all get this TV review instead. I hope you enjoy it. And if you don’t then please feel free to tell me so, rather than pelt me with stones like barbarians. Oh, and if you have any ideas for a story you want me to write, then feel free to leave me a comment. 🙂

On with the review…

With great power comes great need to hide underground. No, wait, that’s not it. I do believe it has something to do with responsibility, so it comes as no great shock that one of the latest TV shows featuring super powered teens includes our good old, “Chosen One” cliché. This Chosen One comes in none other than the handsome outsider, Stephen Jameson (Robbie Amell). If he looks familiar, that would be because his cousin, Stephen Amell, is the lead actor in CW’s other show, Arrow.
Stephen is of course a very attractive teenager who is shunned by his fellow classmates on the account that he is on anti-psychotic drugs for his mental condition. This seems to consist of sleep-walking and voices in his head, as he is shown strapping himself into bed. Though one might hardly bother wondering how he actually sleeps because we are of course distracted by his wonderful abs and the rather kinkiness of it all. The three-way he wakes up to at his neighbours is of course the cherry on the top. 
Steady on, Stephen!
Unbeknownst to Stephen, there is a shadow war going on between the Tomorrow People, and a secret organisation hunting them, known as Ultra. But who are the Tomorrow People? Well, apparently, it’s all about the 3 T’s— telepathy, telekinesis and teleportation. Quite nice that it’s wrapped up all neat and pretty. I had no idea that mutation could work quite so smoothly.
Genetics aside, I can’t deny that the TV show is rather gripping. Already we are halfway through the series and there have been quite a number of interesting story arcs. Perhaps the crowning glory of it all is the almost father/son relationship between one of the heads of Ultra, Jedikiah Price (Mark Pellegrino, who some may recognise from Supernatural as Lucifer) and the leader of the underground group of Tomorrow People, John (Luke Mitchell). This rivalry is alluded to in the pilot episode, with John describing Jedikiah as a sadistic creep. 
OH! The angst!
The writers do well with characterising villains and heroes alike with captivating and sympathetic back-stories. Stephen is first introduced to John, the laid back, but determined leader. Then there is Cara, the intense one who acts quite like a second-in-command. Last but not least, we have Russell (Aaron Yoo), the kleptomaniac comic-relief who is a firm believer in the “no-finger discount”. After all, Tomorrow People have telekinesis for that kind of thing. But how could I forget TIM? TIM is a super-computer stolen from Ultra by John. Witty and sarcastic, he will immediately remind Marvel fans of Iron Man’s JARVIS, albeit, with a British accent.
 Once again, mutation is used as an allegory for puberty, despite the fact that the majority of the cast already look to be in their mid-20’s. Even the ones who are meant to be in high school. So even in the wake of striking revelations and intense action sequences, the romances are still heavily explored. Now that is not necessarily a bad thing, but in the grand scheme of things, the romance can at times feel contrived. Love triangles will ensue, and frustrations will rise high, but in the midst of it all, the main goal is to find Stephen’s long lost father, who will lead them all to “The Promised Land”. A place where Tomorrow People can live without judgement— ahem!— Genosha. 
I expected a lot of this…
I also got some of this…

And this.
We also get the benefits of Stephen bringing sexy back.
…Time and time again.
They say that the devil is in the detail, so perhaps my favourite character in the entire show is none other than Jedikiah Price, the villain pursuing the Tomorrow People. What can I say? I’m a sucker for a good villain. He is the most multi-faceted character on this show. Neither truly evil, nor good, he is certainly layered. In the words of Tony Stark, “his secrets have secrets”. He truly believes that what he is doing is best for society, and it is this conviction that I at once admire and loathe. It would certainly be easier to hate him if he was simply doing it to be evil, but then where would the fun be in that? With that air of calm and wry smile, he is certainly one to watch out for.
So the recipe for The Tomorrow People seems to include a dash of narration, just like good ol’ Spidey, a sprinkle of Matrix style bullet freeze shots, a heap of hotness like any self-respecting CW show, and a drop of romance to keep up the teen angst. Boil it all together and what we get is a sort of X-Men meets Jumper and Push. In the end I’d like to think there is a bit of something for everyone, and I firmly believe that The Tomorrow People isn’t quite yesterday’s news. 
That is all. Thanks for reading my review. 

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