Labels: announcement
-------- AUTHOR: Trent Sketch TITLE: #10: Soon I Will Be Invincible by Austin Grossman DATE: 2/15/2009 07:53:00 AM ----- BODY: Found that bizarre name: Miss Lonelyhearts Stomps a Child 5K. I know there was another post somewhere that stated when it would start and specified the 400+ page rule, but I can't find it. Cannonball Read: #10: Soon I Will Be Invincible by Austin Grossman I'm not a big comic book fan. I'll enjoy the occasional superhero film (like Iron Man or Spiderman 2) or television series (original Fox X-Men animated series, please come out on DVD; I wish to enjoy the Phoenix arc again). But the comic books left me cold. Sure, I've been slowly making a turn on graphic novels, but there's a distinct disconnect between comic books and me. That isn't to say I don't enjoy superheros. I love reading the back stories of superheros online. I really get into play by play analysis of what happens in 'x' issue of 'y' superhero. Which is partly why Austin Grossman's Soon I Will Be Invincible is so appealing to me. It provides two separate, concurrent narratives leading to an inevitable confrontation between supervillain Dr. Impossible and reluctant superhero Fatale. Turns out The Champions need a new member after their most famous member CoreFire disappeared, and Fatale is the odds on favorite for a replacement; of course, The Champions are convinced that the disappearance is the fault of Dr. Impossible, CoreFire's arch nemesis. Too bad Dr. Impossible doesn't know what happened either. The best moments in this book are elements of back story and direct conflict. Grossman tries to bring in interest for superheros as everyday people moments, but they fall flat more often than not. Considering Grossman "specializes in Romantic and Victorian literature," it's no surprise that he would want to show every aspect of every life that appears in the book. That aesthetic really elevates the novel, but also detracts when everyday occurrences slow down the book. Lesson learned: now I understand why so many people do not like Dickens and the ultra-Realist style. Not everyone wants to read about the back story of the woman who was buying a loaf of bread at a corner stand, the same way I really didn't care one way or the other about the dating habits of superheros. I will say the other big weakness is how different the two narratives are. While I enjoyed the entire novel, I found myself really plowing through the Fatale sections to get to the far greater Dr. Impossible sequences. Dr. Impossible seems far more developed as a character. That does make sense. He's been doing the supervillainy for years, while Fatale is still struggling to understand why she had to become what she is. Unlike Dr. Impossible's super intelligence by birth, Fatale only became a hero after a horrific accident left her no chance for recovering short of becoming a cyborg. She wouldn't be as developed a hero, but even her slice of life scenes fall flat. The highlight of the novel for me on a second read is still Elphin, the Knight of Titania. Grossman never reveals whether or not Elphin actually is a fairy. Her period dialect and speech patterns bring me nothing but joy, and her abilities make me smile. If a real superhero could spawn from this novel, I would hope it to be Elphin. I'd even read an Elphin comic book series. Soon I Will Be Invincible is a fun read. It's not the most challenging book in the world, nor is that the intention. It's enjoyable. Sometimes that's enough.Labels: austin grossman, soon I will be invincible
-------- AUTHOR: Trent Sketch TITLE: #9: Rosemary's Baby by Ira Levin DATE: 2/14/2009 10:30:00 PM ----- BODY: Two things: 1) I finally got the font size to increase on this blog. I can handle tiny type in print, not in back lighting, and I don't consider it fair to make others suffer just to read my less polished prose caused by fast blogging; 2) finally realized that I can have more space on Twitter if I use tiny url myself rather then letting them auto-shrink it after I submit. Cannonball Read: #9: Rosemary's Baby by Ira Levin I'm not even going to try to hide it: Rosemary's Baby is one of my favorite novels of all time. I place it up on that literary pedestal with Hard Times by Dickens and The Sound and the Fury by Faulkner. I consider it the greatest horror novel ever written and one of the crown jewels of American literature. Ira Levin is so underrated as an author I can't even find a dry or witty comment to express my disdain for his lack of public image. For those who don't know, Rosemary's Baby, the novel, is exactly the same as the book. That's because even Roman Polanski realized you can't improve on perfection. His screen adaptation takes all of its cues from the novel, down to exact lines of dialogue and specific set and costume designs. A handful of changes were made, and obviously there are omissions when dealing with a 300+ page novel, but the results are nearly imperceptible. When Guy and Rosemary Woodhouse move into a new apartment building, it looks like their every dream will come true. They finally get pregnant, and Guy begins catching one break after the other in his professional acting career. Even the neighbors, as old and strange as they are, seem to embrace them and their success. Too bad that nice girl Rosemary met in the laundry room had to go and jump off the building, shattering the peace and serenity of their new lives and casting doubt on everyone Rosemary is connected to. The novel excels in many ways. For one thing, it's the rare suspense novel that does not play down to the reader. The reader only knows what Rosemary knows, and that's exactly the way Levin wants it. Are their hints earlier in the book as to what happens at the end? Not particularly. Maybe some flags that you notice on a second or third read, but nothing that overtly says "And it all ends like this." The fact that a novel that continually betrays your expectations manages to stay a compelling read is remarkable. The characters are interesting and well developed. From the Castavettes, the freaky deaky elderly neighbors with no shortage of pre-natal advice and convenient contacts for the Woodhouses, to Dr. Hutch, Rosemary's old, trusted doctor who tries to warn the young couple from staying in an apartment complex with such a checkered past. Rosemary, for all of the strange occurrences in her pregnancy, comes across as level headed, rational, compelling, and sane, even when everyone has convinced her she's losing her mind. She feels real, even when pursuing the wildest theories in really strange ways. Then there are the descriptions. Levin does not leave a detail untyped that needs to be shown. You know exactly what the apartment looks like before anything important happens there. You'll see the detail of the necklace Minnie gives to Rosemary before Rosemary even acknowledges its existence. And all these minute details do nothing to distract from the story. They enhance it. We know what Rosemary knows, and that's how Levin wants it. The pacing in the novel is phenomenal. It flies by without feeling rushed. It's a slow burn suspense/horror novel without the halting sense of pushing a boulder up a hill only to watch it run away at the last second and leave you hanging. I know I've had a few run-ins with people in the past who believe me to be a horrible person for praising this book so much. After all, it can be interpreted as pretty abusive to women. Some claim my fascination with raped by the devil stories clouds my judgment, while others use that as signs that I'm a complete misogynist and should be ashamed of myself. And I could care less. Lesson learned: my taste in literature is exactly that: my taste. Just because I love Faulkner doesn't mean I won't be mocked mercilessly by my peers for appreciating his layered fiction. And just because I enjoy Rosemary's Baby doesn't mean I'm a horrible person for reading what happens to poor, victimized Rosemary. It also doesn't mean that this type of feminist reading is even an accurate reflection of the text. There's a certain reputation to the book, and certain scenes that always come up in conversation. Those certainly are capable of clouding judgment when viewed as isolated moments. For me, it's easily one of the best ever written. I strongly recommend it to anyone who has never picked up the book or seen the film. The two work hand in hand.Labels: Ira Levin, Rosemary's Baby
-------- AUTHOR: Trent Sketch TITLE: #8: My Soul to Keep by Tananarive Due DATE: 2/14/2009 05:15:00 PM ----- BODY: An important note before I continue my marathon of posting today: these books were not read in this order. I quickly pulled all the eligible books I've read from their various homes and tossed them next to my desk, grabbing at random to add to the blog. This one, for example, is a library book 3 weeks overdue. Cannonball Read: #8: My Soul to Keep by Tananarive Due Tananarive Due is an author I've read quite a bit of work from. She constantly makes it into Best Of anthologies for horror and weird fiction; she falls firmly in the latter category. How else do you describe a story about an accidental eunuch being outed by his best friend so said best friend can turn on his girlfriend? She's exceptionally talented, but extremely dense and difficult to get. Her prose is tightly coiled like a tense spring, ready to explode into your eye at the slightest provocation, blinding you to what happened until you remove the shrapnel and unwind the evidence. Her character development in such short pieces is unmatched by her contemporaries, even if the overall intention of the story tends to rest just out of reach. Then I read My Soul to Keep. Now Due makes perfect sense. She's an idea writer. Her style of writing works best in the more open novel format, where she can take her time and begin to disarm that spring of confusion for you. I feel like, for the first time in my Cannonball Readings, I've discovered a novel I truly have a desire to revisit again and again. Lesson learned: a great writer is a great writer, regardless of the length of the work. Now if only I could spin that to convince people micro/flash fiction has merit, I'd be set for life. My Soul to Keep is the story of a family: David, Jessica, and Kira. They live a perfectly happy life in Florida, where David is a young retired college professor, Jessica is a newspaper reporter on the fast track to a Pulitzer, and Kira is their loving daughter. And then the dog dies. There is a bone of contention in the family: David is an atheist. Jessica's entirely family is very Christian. They have never approved of the relationship and even Jessica is beginning to question just who David is. David has a very strange past that doesn't quite add up. He has a secret that, if revealed, will threaten the lives of those he loves. A secret that has caused him pain and loss for hundreds and hundreds of years. David is a member of a tribe that was given the gift of immortality and dedicated their lives to improving their minds. When it's time for him to leave his mortal family, he has no choice. One way or the other, he will be brought back to Africa by himself. Unless he breaks his covenant. Due creates a captivating puzzle of a novel. She intentionally allows the readers to figure out smaller plot details long before they are revealed to act as red herrings to what is actually happening. She makes the reader feel incredibly smart and in on the secret before revealing how much more hasn't been made clear. You realize in the first 20 pages what David's secret is. You just have to read another 100 pages for him to admit to it, and another 80 pages beyond that to understand how it actually happened. And that's just the surface level of the novel. My Soul to Keep is a quick read, and a very enjoyable read at that. If you take it purely as an interesting story, you'll be perfectly satisfied. For my fellow lit nerds, this novel is a treasure trove of skillful manipulation, allusions, and imagery that could be studied again and again without ever fully grasping just what Due really did. It's the kind of novel you wish would make its way into the canon, so others will have the privilege of reading it and discovering how great it is.Labels: My Soul to Keep, Tananarive Due
-------- AUTHOR: Trent Sketch TITLE: #7: The Manse by Lisa W. Cantrell DATE: 2/14/2009 04:49:00 PM ----- BODY: Cannonball Read: #7: The Manse by Lisa W. Cantrell Lesson learned: The Bram Stoker Awards sure did make some misguided choices in their early years. Lisa W. Cantrell is an award winning author of horror fiction. What? You've never heard of her? Well, surely you've heard of the Bram Stoker Award winning novel The Manse? No? Yeah, neither had I. If Wikipedia is to be believed, Lisa W. Cantrell and The Manse aren't even worth discussing. Google digs up the Fantastic Fiction page for Lisa W. Cantrell, indicating she penned four novels and three short stories before throwing in the towel. In some ways, I'm not particularly surprised. The Manse doesn't show a whole lot of creativity or style, and even seems like there were moments she didn't even want to write (like an ending, or a conflict, or any worthwhile character development). In other ways, it is a bit upsetting. This was a debut novel, and, as such, did show quite a bit of potential. Cantrell knows how to create a tense moment without relying on gore or confusion; if a child is turned into a hideous monster by a mirror, you know it. There was potential, and that is most likely what the Stokers awarded. The Manse is a haunted house novel that, if written today, would be snatched up for film rights before the book was published. The images are that arresting and the plot that straight forward. It would be a perfect popcorn horror film, like The Ruins. The town of Merriville holds a house haunt every year at the old Manse on the hill. The Jaycees, a young adult community group, began with the intention of creating a fun, safe alternative to Trick-or-Treating and quickly shifted to a state of the art house of horrors that only the bravest community members could stomach. It's so horrifying in its twelfth year, that a little boy is helped out through a back passage, runs through traffic, and is killed by a tractor trailer. Now everyone seems to be crawling out of the woodwork to prevent the thirteenth (get it? Huh? Huh? 13? Unlucky 13? Get it? Do ya? Do ya? Cause Cantrell won't let you forget it) House of Horrors from happening. Turns out the Manse (like every creepy old mansion in horror fiction) has a long history of violence and death. And, a crazy old black woman (not my words, people) predicts destruction if they hold one more haunted house there. Does it sound like a groaner? It is, in many ways. For one thing, Cantrell had to set a story that surrounds so heavily on Halloween in America, even though she is British. As such, you are faced with teenagers who do not want to be "bloody" this or think something would be "jolly good" (I wish I was joking). Or other cultural inaccuracies, including awful moments of spelled out accents because the book takes place in the southeast, "ye-awwwllll." Is there any point to reading this novel? Actually, yes. If, like me, you are an aspiring horror author, fighting for your big break, it's funny to see how many other recent Bram Stoker Award Winners steal (yes, steal, meaning take the ideas, scenarios, storytelling methods, and characters without credit) from Cantrell's The Manse. I can almost say you don't need to read The Manse if you read Sarah Langan's The Keeper, since they are the same exact book. One deals with an evil house, the other deals with an evil town. One takes place in the southeast, the other takes place in the northeast. One has a crazy woman that absorbs the wrongdoings of a town; the other has a house that absorbs the wrongdoings of a town. Even some of the deaths are identical. I'm not trying to call Langan out, since every horror author does this to a certain extent (especially King); and really, Langan wrote an excellent novel while Cantrell's is mediocre at its highlights. Still, it's funny how this stuff goes unnoticed. I don't even think Langan meant to do it. There are images that are still stuck in my head from The Manse a good month after I read it. Some of it will probably wind up in a future story. In conclusion, save your penny + shipping and just take my word that this book is not worth your time and effort. Unless you really, really must read every nominee and winner of best debut/novel in the Stoker Awards like I do. Then, more power to you.Labels: lisa w cantrell, the manse
-------- AUTHOR: Trent Sketch TITLE: Apologies and Book #6: The Hunger by Whitley Strieber DATE: 2/14/2009 04:11:00 PM ----- BODY: First allow me to apologize. When I get off track on blogging, I feel exceptionally guilty, to the point that I no longer have the will to write anymore. I fear that I will be judged harshly for not delivering the goods and my work will be viewed with a stronger critical eye and vitriol upon my return. I basically have the beginnings of an anxiety attack just trying to type a post in. So I apologize for the almost 2 month absence from this blog. I want to square everything away before the mini-Cannonball Run Diversion. Something about completing five 400+page books in under 2 weeks. Most of the books I read for fun are 500+pages, so I'm not left wanting for choices. The challenge has a completely nonsensical title that must surely be a reference to a TV show I don't watch or a film I haven't seen. So, buttons. #6: The Hunger by Whitley Strieber What can one say about a highly sexualized modern vampire tale that hasn't already been said? Surely any fan of lurid vampire fiction already views this as passe and longs for novels that would make a Harlequin fan blush. And, being very Catholic, I will admit that I am uncomfortable with this level of in your face sexuality. Lesson learned: think before reading, dumbass. Clearly, since I already saw the film, I should have had a vague idea what I was getting into. The film stars Catherine Deneuve as a bisexual vampire with pedophilia tendencies trying to replace a rapidly aging David Bowie with first a teenage girl and then Susan Sarandon in geek to chic sex kitten mode. I expected Strieber's novel to have inspired the gorgeous subtleties of hot lesbian vampire action done so tastefully in the film. And then I read the first few pages of the book. When the previously mortal lover of natural born vampire Miriam Blaylock, John, sneaks into a NYC apartment to kill and drain a woman in her sleep, the entrance is described as follows,He satisfied himself that the household was asleep, then began his penetration.I wanted to believe that it might have just been creative use of terminology. After all, an invader breaking the absolute silence and serenity of a household in the late hours of the night might be viewed as penetrating this sense of peace. And then I began to blush more and more with each page turn. Allow me to focus on the absolute positives of this book. Whitley Strieber created a smart, easily read novel with excellent integration of personal historical occurrences. Scenes that take place in Ancient Greece or Pre-Revolutionary France actually feel period appropriate. The language shifts in subtle, suggestive ways to convey a sense of realism in a very unique vampire novel. That takes quite a bit of skill. Strieber also creates four very distinct narrators in subtly shifted prose styles to indicate their stakes in the matter. Reading Miriam's chapters feels very different than reading John's chapters, which is quite different from sleep research scientist and future sexual victim Sarah's chapters, which again are quite different from her husband Tom's chapters. Perhaps a brief plot description will illuminate the novel. Miriam Blaylock, if that even is her real name, is a vampire. Not just a vampire, but the last remaining member of her species. These vampires can easily pass as human, travel during the day and night, cross running water, and do everything like a normal person, except they will sleep for six hours in every twenty-four hour period. Since giving birth is an immense risk with the species, Miriam opts to take human partners, flipping between the sexes. She looks for men and women who have a predatory instinct, and slowly seduces and indoctrinates them into her lifestyle. Her current partner, Tom Blaylock, is beginning to show the unfortunate side effects of humans introduced to the blood: he is growing old. At a certain point in humans, rapid aging will begin, yet the kiss of death will never arrive. It seems each successive partner lasted a shorter amount of time than the previous. Enter the research of Dr. Sarah Roberts, a sleep pathologist in NYC. She believes that she is on the brink of immortality, and the basis of immortality is in the sleep cycle. It turns out Miriam Blaylock is a huge fan of Sarah Roberts' work. She'd love to help Sarah really discover what it takes to be immortal. And Sarah happens to have the predatory instinct, far stronger than any other human Miriam has pursued. I make the plot sound far more realistic than it actually is. Take, for example, when Miriam shows up to the sleep facility and insists on being examined for night terrors by Dr. Sarah. She strips off her clothes and has the good Dr. sucking on her breasts and fingering her before she could say hello. In a crowed medical research facility in NYC, with hundreds of patients, doctors, and scientists passing by every minute, with security cameras everywhere, no one notices the hot lesbian action in the examination room? Or Mrs. Blaylock's inability to keep her clothes on? Or catches onto how she couldn't possibly have access to all of the research information she can quote back from memory about the condition she's faking and the research currently being conducted at the facility? That's one of the more believable absurdities in the novel. To be honest, The Hunger was a very exciting read. Strieber's prose is gorgeous, if a bit heavy handed with the sexual imagery (do I really need to read 3 paragraphs spans (yes, multiple spans) on personal grooming down there to understand Miriam's perceptive abilities or Dr. Sarah's unnatural attraction to her? Probably not. But without those passages, I might not get to read the heart wrenching fates of Miriam's entire family and her true definition of loyalty in a relationship. If you're itching for a different kind of lesbian vampire experience, and really don't want to deal with subtitles on obscure Italian B-Movies, The Hunger will probably be a great experience. For everyone else, you might as well pick up a cheaper, more readily available Laura K. Hamilton romp and call it a night.
Labels: announcement, the hunger, whitely strieber
-------- AUTHOR: Trent Sketch TITLE: #5: Dracula by Bram Stoker DATE: 12/20/2008 10:25:00 PM ----- BODY: I know the following papers may not make sense at first, but they have been arranged in a very specific order that will begin to make sense as they unfold. 1: From the journal of Robert 20 December, past midnight: I fear I know not what to learn from Stoker's Dracula. Am I to gain an understanding of how even mediocre literature can stand the test of time if the author manages to do one thing well? Is religious allegory worthy of this much praise in an otherwise average late-Gothic novel? That can't be it. I'm trapped in a web of interesting images with minimal pay off. The hoodlums across the street are eyeing up my house for another round of vandalism against excessive Christmas decorations, and I can't say I blame them. But with the constant rapping, tapping, smacking at my front door how do I dig deeper into a century plus old narrative to find the juicy nougat of truth in its fiction? The dawn won't break for hours yet, and this cursed white Ikea light is leaving me with a migraine. I must retire this post and pick it up later when light is on my side. 20 December, morning: The yard made it through the night without any major destruction. The snow has left Mr. Scrooges hidden from the waist down in a blanket of pristine white, though the cracks are forming in the paint. Too bad a cross won't stop wood from warping. The novel really doesn't move me all that much in the morning, either. I find it intriguing to revisit the work since it varies so much from the film adaptations with any merit at all. What director working in the Hollywood idiom would dare reveal that Count Dracula is a vampire with a seemingly endless series of lusty undead brides in the first five minutes as Stoker does in the first ten pages? It would be suicide. Perhaps that's the greater lesson here: don't expose the villain too soon? But it can't be. My favorite element of the novel is the immediate action. It drags here and there in the letters, but is mostly action, action, and more action. It's not summary: it's plot. How astonishing to see even a very plain prose style accomplish what most modern novelists struggle to do. A change of approach might benefit the examination. 2: Digital correspondence between Robert and his brother, Christopher TrentSketch to BrotherofSketch, 9:45 AM, g-mail: Dearest Brother, I hope this e-mail finds you well. Thank you for linking me to that website with those international interpretations of fairy tales. It will be most helpful in the upcoming writing project. My purpose for writing is not so cheerful, sadly. I remember you complaining non-stop about reading a novel called Dracula in high school. Perhaps you could help me reconcile my mediocre reaction to one of the most popular novels of the late Gothic period? I fear I'll never quite understand the appeal. Robert PS: Grand Torino on Monday if the snow clears up? You know my car can't safely travel on the road until they plow out the boonies. Christopher to Robert, text message: That boko is gay. Just wacth d movie :):):) 3: from Something Printed This Way Comes, a blog of Robert 20 December, post begun 10:30 pm EST: My dearest readers, I fear that I have learned nothing I didn't already know from a reread of Dracula. The shifting narrative technique is novel, but means nothing if the voice never changes between characters. Still, it is an engaging read. It's like a popcorn flick: you don't need you're brain to get the message, but you'll probably enjoy yourself regardless of its vapidity. There's plenty of tension and haunting imagery that may be written plain but gets the job done. Maybe there is a lesson in this. Literary fireworks are great, but who gives a damn if they don't amount to anything? Page turning pop-lit may not be perceived as the most meritorious, yet it earns more money than serious literature for a good reason. It's enjoyable. It's fun. You feel good for finishing a book that isn't that serious. Is a book that great if no one wants to read it? Or the lesson is this: Christ. I really am a lit snob. If it's not complex or very different, I'm probably not going to go crazy over it. That's kind of sad. Hopefully I can force my way through some lighter books and have an easier time digesting them throughout the rest of Cannonball Read than I did here. Pleasant dreams. Up Next: Tananarive Due: My Soul to Keep On Deck: Don't Look Now: Daphne Du Maurier -------- AUTHOR: Trent Sketch TITLE: #4: 'Salem's Lot by Stephen King DATE: 12/15/2008 09:03:00 AM ----- BODY: Lesson learned: King always needed an editor with a heavier hand. I'll throw it out there right now. I never had any intention of finishing this book. I had tried numerous times in the past to slog through it, and never made it past the fifty page mark. I thought it was boring, overwritten, under-planned garbage not fit for kindling to start a fire. I only read it now because of the IMDB Horror Board Book Club, which I believe in so much that I'd suffer through just about anything to see it stay afloat. Three guesses which set of responses were mine. 'Salem's Lot by Stephen King is a melting pot novel: throw in some Shirley Jackson by way of The Haunting of Hill House; over boil for 300 pages (I read from the 629 page library bound edition, which is apparently rare nowadays) to ensure total confusion, boredom, and anger; sprinkle liberally with Stoker's Dracula; separate out all traces of Hill House because they have been rendered inedible; and saute over a slow burn for a final 100 or so pages of masterful suspense. For those out of the loop, 'Salem's Lot was Stephen King's second novel about a quaint little New England town overrun by vampires. Should I consider that a spoiler? Technically, yes, since there is barely anything to indicate that vampires exist in the novel until the halfway point. This is where King's characters begin to mock the ideas presented in Jackson's ...Hill House, claiming buildings cannot be evil and ghosts aren't real. Vampires, however, must be taken seriously. After reading the book, I feel there may actually be a halfway decent novel buried in the text. It's like the Da Vinci Code, only well written and unintentionally hiding an arguably rewarding secret. I can't fault the writing of the novel at all. It's solid. The descriptions are lovely. The characters are creative and well defined. Even the scare moments bring the blood and violence without seeming gratuitous. Is King a little heavy-handed on the thematic concerns? Absolutely. But what younger author isn't? I overplay my hand all the damn time, and I sure as heck don't have a book deal at this point. So where does my disappointment stem from in this novel? It's simple, really: editing. I feel half of this novel could be torn from the book and be slightly restructured into something magnificent. Do we need a twenty page interlude describing every building in the town right after our Jonathan Harker figure meets up with his Mina Murray, stopping the plot in its tracks? Of course not. That kind of description could be integrated into the plot smoothly without sacrificing necessary details. King stops to describe the pattern of shadows in the park that is never seen again in the novel. Or the exact size, shape, and coloration of a particular rat in a town dump overflowing with them. He even describes the style of binoculars held by the obese shut-in spying on everyone in town. They're not brief diversions, either; no. These passages go on for pages and pages. It's like someone planned a freeway, and put a stop sign with tire hazards in the far left lane: there's no real reason to make the driver slow down, yet they can't risk destroying their car just to avoid the extraneous pauses. There is one other concern I have with the novel. That little kid character is annoying. King likes empowering children, I get it. But could he empower a child that isn't more annoying than me trying to defend an experimental foreign indie horror film to people who don't understand why the murderous clown must have a pink bow on his forehead? I doubt it. The little kids are why I can't make it through The Shining or IT. It's only fair to admit that I really do not like the vast majority of vampire literature. It does nothing for me. Some are better written than others (even with my complaints, I'd say 'Salem's Lot falls into the former category), but I just don't find it scary or compelling. Oh, the drawing of blood from the neck or the breast is sexual. Vampires are our repressed animal instincts, pipe dreams, and sexual ambitions combined into a tall, dark, charismatic figure of ambiguous foreign origin. Only the purest of the pure can ever vanquish them, giving hope to humanity that the righteous shall triumph in the end. Does nothing for me. At least King spiced it up by making his vampires so vile and disgusting you longed for a bottle of holy water to burn their flesh and make them squirm. Up next: a reread of Stoker's Dracula On Deck: Tananarive Due's My Soul to Keep Daphne du Maurier's Don't Look No the conclusion of The Dark Chamber by Leonard ClineLabels: 'Salem's Lot, stephen king
-------- AUTHOR: Trent Sketch TITLE: #3: Dark Delicacies II: Fear, edited by Del Howison and Jeff Gelb DATE: 11/19/2008 06:19:00 AM ----- BODY: There is only one important lesson to take away from the second Dark Delicacies anthology: Sequels are rarely as good as the original. It is almost impossible for me to diagnose exactly what disappointed me with the second collection of short horror from America's largest store dedicated exclusively to horror merchandise. Are the writers of a lesser caliber? Not really. Perhaps not as well known as the first collection, but no less skilled. Is it the presentation? Again, no. The book is physically presented in the same style, down to typeface and eerily suggestive cover. Then what could cause me to feel so let down by a new collection of horror stories? I think it might just be that I didn't enjoy as many as I normally do in anthologies. I really can't complain. There are so few quality horror anthologies left because there are so few horror markets left. And those horror markets are staying alive by publishing stories mostly from known names in the industry. Cemetary Dance goes so far as to dedicate four to six pages on Stephen King news whenever they actually get around to putting out another issue. In America, at least, it is a fading market, which is upsetting for new horror writers and fans alike. Dark Delicacies II: Fear made only one mistake as far as I can tell. They chose a theme. The first collection was considered an anthology of horror fiction on the outskirts of society. It was filled with the type of story that would get the 1/4 sheet form response for being too weird, or the even worse full page writers guidelines with the section about being clearly horror fiction highlighted for being too subtle or esoteric. This anthology promises nineteen tales about fear. That's a problem. Fear is such a broad subject that will not effectively hit everyone with every story. I think I enjoyed half of the collection, compared to all but two or three stories in the original. That said, there are five truly stand out stories for me that still haunt me. Barbara Hambly's "Sunrise on Running Water" is historical vampire fiction about one unfortunate Lord who attempted to cross the Atlantic as a passenger on the Titanic. It's suspenseful and hilarious, with excellent character development and a period tone that feels authentic. Max Brooks submitted a new tale of the Zombie War entitled "Great Wall." It describes one Chinese woman who permanently disfigured her hands attempting to stave off zombies with the creation of a new Great Wall made entirely of broken glass bricks. It might be better than any story actually included in World War Z. "First Born" has John Farris riffing on a cliche contract with the devil set in a posh Hollywood estate. The tone is bizarre, almost absurd, yet the execution chilled me to the bone. Speaking of bizarre, does Tanarive Due ring a bell? Her "Amusement" fulfills the "Macabre" portion of the subtitle (More Original Tales of Terror and the Macabre by the World's Greatest Horror Writers) with a strange tale about a eunuch. But not really about a eunuch. But built around a eunuch. And black lights. And indie film credibility. And sex. The last of my favorites is "I Am Coming to Live in Your Mouth" by Glen Hirshberg, about a family attempting to survive the last few day's of a man's destructive battle with cancer. I would recommend anyone who likes horror fiction try Dark Delicacies II, for I think I've realized why I was so disappointed. No one I knew surprised me. Joe R. Lansdale did a tale of wilderness survival. L.A. Banks wrote in a very formal tone filled with suggestive imagery. Steve Niles did a violent story. Even names I've already mentioned (Hambly - historical, Brooks - zombies, Due - insane) did things they are known for. The first collection seemed to have authors stepping out of their comfort zones a bit more. Is it bad to be so good at one thing you make an anthology like this? No. Might there have been other authors, emerging authors, so highly praised in the forewords and afterward that could have thrown in some much needed twists to a predictable collection? Probably, considering that afterward. Just try it. It's so broad in scope you are bound to find something you like. Currently Reading: Salem's Lot The Hunger The Dark Chamber Probably a few others I'm blanking on On Deck: Massive papers Sleep migraineLabels: dark delicacies, horror, short stories
-------- AUTHOR: Trent Sketch TITLE: Not a New Book: Update DATE: 11/07/2008 05:13:00 PM ----- BODY: So, how's it going? I'm doing pretty alright, I suppose. I can't really complain. I'm glad you could make it for this little State of the Blog meeting. I appreciate your punctuality in the face of my own slothful pace in reading 100 books in a year. Here's the story right now. Ulysses has consumed my life. The professor changed the way he was teaching the novel after the first week, resulting in a weekly quiz so grounded in minutia (Who is random character with one mention in Chapter 6 and why is he so important to the plot? What color is the napkin and what does it represent?) that I'm spending three times as long as I normally would on an initial close reading practically memorizing entire passages of the book in anticipation of the quiz. Let's see: so far I failed two of them forthright. The first he didn't think my answers were specific enough; the second, too specific. Fantastic. Then Persuasion jumped in. Apparently, maybe three people actually read the book for the class. I didn't even reread it, anticipating that maybe I wouldn't be the only one who knew that Anne Elliot was the main character of the novel and that it took place in England. Not so. So now I'm on about my fourth read of that book, and it's just because I feel bad for the professor. She is the go-to Austen expert at the college and deserves better. Hopefully her Victorians class will go better, but I doubt it. At least she has her Children and Adolescent Lit class that keeps her going every year to fall back on. So there are two books I'm stuck pushing up the hill through December that I will not count for my Cannonball Read. "OK," you say. "What about The Dark Chamber? You started that well over a month ago already. It's not that long. What gives?" What gives? Why the fact that I'm going wacky again and simultaneously reading: Dark Delicacies 2 (decent follow up to an excellent short story collection, six shorts left to go before completion); Salem's Lot (stupid IMDB book club voting not only to have a Stephen King Month, but opting not to include Carrie or Misery on the ballot; don't blame me, I voted for Dolores Claiborne); and Dracula (I suppose this was a gift for me, since I had mentioned many times I wanted a Gothic month for the book club; too bad the man in charge picked one of my least favorite novels to supplement King's modern version of the vampire myth). So, I have, respectfully, 100 pages, 6 stories, push me to the brink of throwing up pages, and gosh when does this book end pages left in four books that do count. Hopefully something will be done within the next week. One of them has to be, right?Labels: update
-------- AUTHOR: Trent Sketch TITLE: On Avoiding Disclaimers, or Book 2: Blaze by Stephen King (as Richard Bachman) DATE: 10/06/2008 11:17:00 PM ----- BODY: I'm liking the lesson idea I brought up in the Blonde entry, so let me present two crucial lessons I learned from Blaze by Stephen King, which I only read because it's the "last" of the Bachman books. 1) I learned what stropping was, both in the context of sharpening a knife and beating an orphan/foster child. Neat. 2) I learned that writers should never place disclaimers before their work, even if they are intentionally self-effacing. I know for a fact that I have a soft spot in my heart for the tear-jerker, overly emotional style of the Victorian Era, where everything goes wrong. In fact, The Old Curiosity Shop by Charles Dickens is one of my favorite novels; the same cannot be said for King's take on it (as represented by references to Oscar Wilde's take on it). To wrap this thought up: Stephen King says Blaze is a trunk novel he never wanted to see the light of day. He only published it to donate all proceeds to charity. He also claims its overly sentimental drivel that originally went so over the top you couldn't help but laugh at it (like he claims people do over The Old Curiosity Shop). Therefore, even after saying he removed the overwrought emotions (if that was removing them, he must have a very different definition of remove than provided in every dictionary known to the English language), it felt so manipulative, overworked, and downright absurd that I, too, was crying "Bring on the cancer! Bring on the blindness! We haven't had those yet!"(see 1, 2). So remember, kiddies: don't use disclaimers. That leads to the reader only seeing that fault in your work. The more you know. Blaze by Stephen King (writing as Richard Bachman) is the most Stephen King of all the Bachman novels. If that makes sense to you, please enjoy these complimentary cookies. They might be a bit stale, as they were baked at the same time as the foundation of this novel. Blaze could not exist with Steinbeck's Of Mice and Men. For example, it's about a big retard (pardon the inappropriate terminology, but once again King has so little concern for fundamental character development that the character Blaze could have anything from Asperger's to Achy-Breaky-Pelvis based on the non-committal attitude towards his mental problem; the kid got banged hard in the head by being thrown down the stairs twice; the only descriptions are "slow", "dumb", "dented forehead" and "retarded", the last one used to score his IQ test; ugh!!!). He's mostly a gentle creature, a gigantic man-child, incapable of taking care of himself. Unfortunately, he does not get to pet a hooker till she dies. His best friend is George, an admitted tribute to Of Mice and Men. George controls Blaze's life, keeping him out of (more) trouble, though George is the man that leads to Blaze committing more and more serious crimes. Sadly, those few details are where the merit of this story ends. Frankly, and I'm not trying to be mean, I feel King should have scrapped everything but Chapter 18 and published Blaze as the feature in his next short story collection. That chapter is his most moving work since All That You Love Will Be Carried Away printed in 2002's Everything's Eventual. It has the deepest character descriptions and most engaging plot of the entire novel. Too bad it's an isolated flashback of Blaze spending one summer working at a blueberry farm. I would go so far as to say you should read Blaze just to get to Chapter 18 and bawl your eyes out. Perhaps this is the sentimental claptrap he was trying to avoid; perhaps he should have stifled his inner Oscar Wilde and offered more moving glimpses into the life of Blaze. Blaze by Stephen King could have been a truly great novel. I believe that in trying to fit it to the noir mold, something is lost. It didn't need to be a hard-boiled crime caper. The saddest thing about the book is that we will never see what the novel originally was. Up Next: Dark Chamber by Leonard Cline On Deck: The Hunger by Whitney Strieber 1) King, Stephen. "Full Disclosure." Blaze. New York: Scribner, 2007. p.2. 2) Actually, I was crying "Bring on the Shetland pony kicking the lead character in the head and leaving him with the mind of a child at full adulthood! Do it with a fetching show tune for bonus points! Haven't seen that yet!"Labels: blaze, book finished, stephen king
-------- AUTHOR: Trent Sketch TITLE: Free at Last, Free at Last, or, Finished Book 1: Blonde by Joyce Carol Oates DATE: 10/05/2008 08:23:00 PM ----- BODY: ::Insert non-existent clip of Al Gore playing Celebrate on The Simpsons:: I feel a major lesson can be learned from every book you read. I learned two from Blonde by Joyce Carol Oates. 1) Boy, does she enjoy writing in broken up, abbreviated, improper English for effect (and does it well, I'm not criticizing); 2) Never pick 700+ page books to read in a speed reading contest. In other news, the Earth revolves around the sun and chocolate might not be as bad for you as once thought, or might be worse, depending on the study. Blonde by Joyce Carol Oates is historical fiction on the surface. Reviews are almost obligated to call it historical fiction because it's a fictionalized biography of Marilyn Monroe. However, as Oates has pointed out in the past, she doesn't view anything historical about it. It's fiction. Not historical fiction, either, or anything remotely resembling a biography. No. If anything, it's speculative fiction, as there couldn't possibly be any evidence stating with veracity exactly what Marilyn Monroe or anyone she was connected to in life was thinking at every given moment. What Blonde provides is a heartfelt, deeply moving investigation into a woman thrust into a spotlight she could never have been prepared for. Oates seamlessly blends limited third person narration with third person omniscient by shifting, even within a single sentence, from one person's viewpoint to another. She may start and end the sentence with Marilyn thinking about her white sharkskin skirt, but in between she provides the viewpoint of a producer trying to get into her skirt. Does it mean the novel has an omniscient narrator? Yes and no. The narrator only knows what any one character is thinking at a given time, and almost seems oblivious to the other characters' thoughts once she leaves their mind. It's a tough device that works wonders here. Speaking of tough, the length of the novel is intimidating. Oates has revealed before that Blonde was intended to be a novella, but she just kept getting more and more ideas. If anything, her comments seem to indicate that 752 pages is the short version of the story. Not everyone has the patience for long novels, either. Indeed, it takes me far longer to read a 700+ page novel than it does to read multiple novels totalling 700+ pages. That's not the fault of the book, either. Frankly, I blame the new media environment. Since we can view anything and everything we want, whenever we want, and never have to finish anything because something else will always be available, we, as a society, don't have the patience to tackle gigantic tomes all at once. Furthermore, with the massive influx of new books hitting the shelves every week, we're encouraged to abandon our old books and start something new. I willingly admit that I'm reading five+ books at any given time. And that's not something to be proud of. Blonde by Joyce Carol Oates is a gem of a book, precious in every way. If you've never read her work before, this is a really easy introduction to the style. She doesn't throw the more shocking material at you right away. There aren't footnotes and names hidden by hyphens to pull your eyes from the story (again, I'm not judging; she's one of the only authors I know of that makes these devices a real treat to read). It's beautiful written prose about an icon of American culture. Up Next: Blaze by Stephen King On Deck: Dark Chamber by Leonard ClineLabels: Blonde, book finished, Joyce Carol Oates
-------- AUTHOR: Trent Sketch TITLE: I Accept Your Challenge, Mr. Prisco, in the Name of the Cause DATE: 9/09/2008 04:50:00 PM ----- BODY: Pajiba made me do it. No, I will not accept the full responsibility for me challenging myself to another marathon task (cough 365 films take 1 and 2 cough). But this one isn't built on insurmountable odds. Allow Mr. Brian Prisco to explain the rules:...a challenge has been called out. 100 books in one year...There are rules. No books smaller than 200 pages. Short story collections only count if they are at least 6 stories long. No graphic novels.While the formal challenge is between Brian Prisco and Alabamapink, they are encouraging others to join along and fight for the cause. And, colorfully put, that cause is:
Why would we undertake such a brutal mission? Frankly, because we’re both disgusted by people who say, “I don’t read.” You are buffoons, who should be taken out back of a woodshed and brutally mauled by a sexually frustrated simpleton armed with leather tanning equipment. Everyone should find time to read a book. Just once or twice a year even. There are lots of them. Some of them are even good.So there you have it. I will attempt to read 100 books in a year. Though it's not enough of a challenge since that's less than I tend to average voluntarily. Which means I have to add three extra rules for myself: 1. Must be leisure reading. No school/work assignments may be counted. 1a. I may not cop out and republish reviews from other sites I write for to discuss the completed book. New, original material must be posted here. 2. Plays do not count. I don't care if its so long it has to be performed on two separate days to learn the whole story. 3. Poetry collections do not count. While they can be long, the poems tend to be spread out to fill up extra space. No exceptions. Tough words from the lit major, but can he pull it off? Only time will tell. The gauntlet has been thrown and I will not fall on this. Up first: Blonde by Joyce Carol Oates On deck: Blaze by Stephen King (as Richard Bachman) --------