Fragile Things, by Neil Gaiman

Yeah, I know we've been through all these stories together already (see parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8), but I want to have a nice little place where I can summarize my thoughts, so bear with me here!

First note: I've read a few short story collections in my time, but only a few, and with this read-along I think I've figured out why — short stories are meant to be read on their own, not all at once. It's just more cost-effective to lump them into a big book and call it a day. For most of the read-along I listened to one story a day, four days a week, and it worked amazingly better to have that 24-hour period to think about the story before moving on than it ever had to mainline a whole book of them. I am going to follow this slow-reading practice in the future, for sure.

Second note: I read each of these stories twice, once with my ears and once with my eyes, generally in that order. This turned out to be a pretty good practice, especially with Gaiman narrating his own stories, because some of the stories and the poems in general were much better when I could hear the cadence and the word patterns that Gaiman had written in, and others were better when I could see how he formatted them or see the sentences to parse them correctly. And of course, the second time around I could get a better appreciation for the story as a whole since I already knew how it ended. That worked out really well for writing up the stories every week, but I probably won't do that in the future unless I know I'm going to discuss the stories!

Third note: I don't usually read story collections that are comprised of such very different stories, and it was really just amazing to me how large the gap was between the stories I loved and the stories I disloved. I don't think there were any I absolutely hated, but there are a few I don't need to ever think about again, and also there are a few that I would like to have metaphorically tattooed to my body so I could read them every day. It also intrigued me to see that the kind of stories Neil Gaiman writes are not always the kind of stories I think that Neil Gaiman would know how to write. I like that Gaiman is willing to write things that are so outside of the pattern of his popular stuff and just let you like it or not.

Okay, I think that covers it! I hope you guys that did the read-along with me enjoyed the experience as much as I did, and I hope that those of you who didn't are at least moderately interested in picking up this collection, because there really are some fabulous stories. I think my Top Five list would be, in rough order, "Goliath," "Sunbird," "A Study in Emerald," "Feeders and Eaters," and "October in the Chair. I think. Care to share yours?

Recommendation: Fantastic reading, a must for Gaiman-lovers and a should for people who like their stories short and a little fantastic.

Rating: Oh, gosh. I'm going to just throw out the stories I disloved and call this a 9/10.
(RIP Challenge)

Fragile Things Read-Along, Part the Eighth

But I don't want the read-along to be over! I've had so much fun these last eight weeks reading and commenting and enjoying everyone's posts! Guys, let's all trade addresses and stuff so we can keep in touch when we have to go back home! Or URLs, I guess. I'm getting old. My point is, I like you guys. Thanks for hanging out with me. :)

I was sort of hoping that this book would go out on some amazing high note and that I would explode from the happiness of it all, but of course this is real life and so it didn't quite do that. But, I did add another story to my list of Awesomest Stories of the Collection, so it was certainly a good week. Let's see what else happened!

"The Day the Saucers Came"
Niiiice. I liked listening to this first, because I couldn't skip ahead and see how long it was or see how it would repeat itself, and so I was pleasantly surprised on both counts. It's a short poem-shaped story about a day when a lot of crazy stuff happened but you didn't notice. I liked that Gaiman just piles on the crazy stuff and that he makes it sound so good — I just want to say "the saucer day the zombie day / The Ragnarok and fairies day" over and over — and I like that the reason you miss out on it all is because you're hoping someone will call you. That is some serious hope, people, and I have certainly experienced it in my life! Did I miss Ragnarok? I'm gonna be so mad if I did, largely because I'm gonna have to go repopulate the world now, and that sounds like effort.

"Sunbird"
This is definitely on my top stories list. I loved listening to it and I loved reading it and I may go do both again because it just makes me so happy. I'm not quite sure why. Let's see. I like the Epicurean Club and how they're all, "But I am le tired of beetles and I've eaten everything else!" I like that no one takes Zebediah seriously until it's way too late. It tickles me pink that one should leave on a Sunday to go to Suntown to catch a Sunbird. I love the line, "I am an academic [...] and thus have no finely developed sense that would be comprehensible to anyone who has not ever needed to grade papers without actually reading the blessed things." And I would really like to try some beer-can phoenix. After I go eat some charcoal, of course.

"Inventing Aladdin"
Eh. This is definitely the weak story of the bunch. It's another poem thing, this time about Scheherazade and her thoughts on making up stories and stuff. So it's really about making up stories in general, and how you work with what you've got and hope for the best. It's not bad, but it's not especially excellent and I've not much to say about it.

"Monarch of the Glen"
Apparently I'm to end up reading through the American Gods universe backward, seeing as how I started with Anansi Boys and may someday get to American Gods proper. So I'm not quite sure what I'm missing in the background to this novella, is what I'm saying. But I still quite enjoyed it. You've got this fellow called Shadow and all he wants is a nice quiet holiday, but then he gets drawn into a very strange set-up perpetrated by our old friends Smith and Mr. Alice. There's a mysterious house and a mysterious party and a very mysterious tradition that I'm still not entirely clear on. But, there's also Norse mythology and Grendel and so who needs clarity? Well, no, I would have liked a bit more... I feel like I'm missing something very obvious (like when I couldn't recognize a vampire in The Graveyard Book) and if someone could just tell me what, exactly, Gaskell was lying about, that would be fantastic. The other thing that kept me from really appreciating the story isn't exactly the fault of the story, but is that after reading, what, thirty short stories in the rest of the book, I was not quite prepared for such a long story, with its description and sidebars and taking its sweet time and all. I think it'll probably be much better once I go get some American Gods in my brain and come back to this story on its own, yes?

So that's it! Thank you all for joining me in this delightful adventure; we really must do it again some time. And maybe this will be the start of a lovely short-story reading habit? I think that's a good idea!

Full Dark, No Stars, by Stephen King

So I was gonna say I haven't read much Stephen King lately, which is technically true, but then I realized that this is my third King book this year! Is it possible I'm coming around to King again, after many many years away? I think it might be.

I had heard of this book but wasn't interested in picking it up, because it's newer and I have this prejudice against "new King" that I picked up around the time I read and was greatly disappointed by Cell. I was like, King has stopped being creepy and spooky and interesting and is instead some crotchety old man and pfft whatever. This may not be a correct assumption on my part, but it's stuck, and so when I saw that this was next up for my book club, I was equal parts "ohhhhh this is going to suck" and "hey, maybe it won't be so bad."

And it wasn't so bad! In fact, I would go so far as to say that this is one of my favorite books out of King, and it is definitely my favorite of his collections (of which I have read not very many). There are four novellas included, though one is like forty pages and seems a little short for that category, and I found all of them to be awesome. And even better, I found all of them to fit in with each other in some way or other, which is a fun thing in a collection — I learned from this one that King has a thing against librarians, a thing for biting, a thing for people getting away with murder, and a thing for making me think a story will go one way and then totally not doing that. Fantastic.

I don't want to say too much about the stories proper, because they are short and I found that the descriptions I read after the fact just did not live up to the stories themselves and I don't want to fail you guys! But if you need something to get you started, I'd summarize the stories as follows: 1922 is a rambling confession letter, Big Driver is the story of an author's trip gone horribly terribly wrong (and then horribly terribly wronger), Fair Extension offers up an interesting way to deal with cancer, and A Good Marriage is about, well, a good marriage that's suddenly not.

Oh, I should also mention that there is rather a lot of violence and horribleness, especially in Big Driver, and so if you are not inclined to appreciate or tolerate such things, I would recommend against this collection. I have to admit I almost quit Big Driver more than once, and at least one person in my book club did give up on it. But in general I don't think it's too much worse than Misery, if that gives you a reference point.

Recommendation: For fans of awful things that aren't happening to themselves and awful people they hope they'll never meet.

Rating: 9/10
(RIP Challenge)

The Lantern, by Deborah Lawrenson

So, in case you haven't been paying any attention to the blog lately, I just finished up a read-along of The Lantern (first week here). If you want my as-they-happened, totally-spoilerful thoughts, you should go check those posts out. If you don't, or if you want to know how I felt about the book as a whole, read on!

The Lantern is not really a story I'd have picked up on my own. It's one of them gothic novels, except set in the present-ish day, and I have not always been a fan of the melodrama and the sekrits and the falling-apart houses. But I think I've read enough of this type of novel to at least sort of know what to expect, and that certainly helps. But but, I have not read Rebecca, which is apparently the basis for this book. Sooooo I may be missing a lot of stuff here.

But but BUT, I still managed to really like this book. It has two narrators, which I love, and goes back and forth in time, which I love, and starts at the end, which I love, and has an entirely unreliable narrator, which I love. It's also got a sensory theme to it, which I am starting to like, and lots of spookyness, which I appreciate. Not terrible, right?

And the stories proper are quite interesting, too. The primary narrator, who is nameless but sort of goes by Eve, meets a guy and sets off on a romantically romantic adventure, moving to the French boonies and fixing up an old falling-apart house, and it's all delightful except that he won't talk about his ex-wife, like, at all. Not a whit. And Eve thinks that's all suspicious and stuff, and so does one of her new neighbors who has at one point met said ex-wife and... misses her? I guess, and then some even more suspicious stuff happens and Eve is like, oh boy. The other narrator, Bénédicte, is from the past and lived in the falling-apart house before it started falling apart. And her brother is insane and her sister is blind and her parents are not terribly good parents and Bénédicte does her best to take care of everyone but you know from early on that they're all haunting her in her old age and she's sure she deserves it.

Quite good, and as of the end of the fourth of five parts, I was like, greatest book ever? It was wonderfully compelling and spooky and interesting and things were quite exciting. But then things kind of derail as the slow build of the book turns into a lot of exposition and explanation, and I think if I had been prepared for this I might not have been so irked by it, so I am telling you now! And certainly with the book a few days in my past now, I'm feeling much better about the ending, but oh my goodness while it was happening... whatever! Moving on!

So I can't give it my endorsement of absolute awesomeness, but I can definitely say that it's worth a read, especially if you can talk about it with others who will pick up on all the things you didn't, like those darn Rebecca parallels. And it is totally perfect for a cool fall evening and a cup of hot cocoa. Mmm, hot cocoa. If you need an excuse to drink some, this is a good one!

Recommendation: For lovers of the Gothic, the spooky, ghosties, and hot cocoa.

Rating: 9/10
(RIP Challenge)

The Lantern Read-Along: Part V

Ehhhhh, I probably should have just kept reading last week like I meant to. This last part just doesn't have the same momentum as the rest, and while sheer interest in the story kept me going, it was not nearly as exciting as the previous sections. But hey, let's talk about that, shall we?

1. Now that it's all said and done; what did you think of the book? Did you see the ending coming? Um, well. Let's see. I called the dead bodies, I did not call Dom's secret, I called Sabine's over-interest if not the reason for it, and I did not manage to call Rachel's pathological lying though in retrospect it seems pretty obvious, I definitely did not call Bénédicte's recordings, I totally called the ghost. So, overall... no, I did not see the ending coming! I am actually fairly disappointed in the ending for being essentially a giant info-dump when Lawrenson did such a good job of weaving in details throughout the story — I would have been content to have fewer answers, better written, I think.

2. What do you think of the characters? Lawrenson took us on a twisty little ride there, I had trouble deciding who was good and who wasn't for a while there! What do you think of Dom? Of Sabine? Rachel? I can understand much better now why Dom was insistent on not sharing his deep dark secret and insistent that it had nothing to do with Our Narrator. I still don't really agree with it, but I understand it. Sabine, I have no idea why she was keeping herself a secret, and so I continue to be very irked with her especially with the insinuations and all. Rachel, I am much more intrigued by — I really didn't give much care to her throughout the book, but with the ending and all it might have been nice to see more of her in the story to take off some of that exposition in the end! Our Narrator, I'd like to see what happens to her the next time Dom tells a half-truth. I don't think she's as comfortable as she thinks she is.

3. Pierre was such a conflicted character. In the end, do you think he killed Marthe and Annette, or did the fall to their deaths because of their blindness? Oh, he totally killed them. He lied about them leaving and blaming Bénédicte, and the fact that he knew he could go get Marthe's stuff shows he knew she wasn't coming back for it. And it really fits in with his completely insane character that he would rather torture Bénédicte for the rest of her life than get any money out of Les Genevriers.

4. The book is being compared to Rebecca and Daphne du Maurier's writing. Do you think the book lives up to that description? I swear I will get around to reading Rebecca. Someday.

5. Did you have any problems with the book? Narration? Plot? The back and forth between two different characters and times? No, I generally liked the format of the book and the way Lawrenson brought the two stories slowly together. I'm just still quite miffed about the ending. In looking back through the book to make sure I'm remembering things correctly to answer these questions, I happened upon this line again: "All of which goes to show how dangerous it is [. . .] to want tidy storytelling when real life is not like that." And I just stared in the general direction of Lawrenson and thought, then why did you work so hard to answer all these darn questions?! Let me have some ambiguity, here. Though the more I think about the ending, the more I'm thinking that it's not really Lawrenson making answers for everything, but instead Our Narrator trying to rationalize everything that she has done and that has happened to her. Oh, this book, it is giving me a headache but largely in a good way.

6. Do you think Lawrenson tied both stories together well in the end? Is there anything she could/should have done differently? I do like the way the stories came together, and how Bénédicte's narrative has this sort of extra layer to it, not just of Lawrenson placing it within Our Narrator's narrative, but of Our Narrator placing it within her own narrative, and so suddenly all of those ghostly things that are happening to Our Narrator ring rather less true. [Insert thoughtful ooooooooooh here.]

7. One problem I had with the novel is the reliability of the narrators. Do you think any of them were telling the truth? Which ones? Oh, I don't trust any of them, which is really how it should be. I can't find a specific reason to doubt Bénédicte's story as told, but I still get the sense that she did a lot of lying to herself, at least, throughout her life. Our Narrator is more obviously doubt-able, with her constant reminders to herself that she's getting a bit hysterical and her own omissions to the other characters. And if that's what she's willing to admit to, I mean, there's probably more to it. And of course the other characters we only see through these two (possibly only through Our Narrator? What's she leaving out of Bénédicte's story?), so I declare them entirely unreliable!

So, true story, I'm way more excited about this book after going through and answering these questions. I stand by my statement about the momentum of this section, but I'm appreciating the results of this section rather more as I think about them. By the time I write up my regular review of this book, I may like the ending even more, but I make no promises! How about you guys?

Fragile Things Read-Along, Part the Seventh

We're closing in on the end of this book! It's been really nice reading this over the course of several weeks, because I feel like I'm really getting to spend time with the stories instead of just zooming through them to get to the end and move on to the next book. I will definitely have to try to try this with short story collections in the future! It's also nice because I'm finding favorite stories each week, rather than ending up with one favorite story of the whole book, as often happens, although I think this week's favorite story might be the winner of the latter crown, because, yes. Amazing. But let's get to that, shall we?

"In the End"
Ohhhhhh. I am so glad I am both listening to these stories and reading them, because when I listened to this, it was too short and I apparently missed the point entirely, which is that this is a reverse retelling of the Garden of Eden story. Reverse. Yes. Excellent. And intriguing. But also only half a page, so I'm not sure I have much else to say. Moving on!

"Goliath"
Yes. This. Fantastic. Best story. And it really reinforces my position that it shouldn't matter if you've done the homework to enjoy a story based in other stories. I managed to completely forget that this was supposed to be a story of The Matrix, even through the bits with the déjà vu, which are excellent, by the way, though I did finally remember once I got to the weird alien ship thing. But even then I was like, oh, right, and just moved on, because it's a story of The Matrix's world, not of its characters, and Gaiman's own character is fascinating in his own right. I love how he deals with the déjà vu, how he manages to get into the military, and how he deals with the harsh reality of his creators. And the last line, which is probably not too spoiler-ful: "But the last twenty minutes have been the best years of my life."

"Pages From a Journal Found in a Shoebox Left in a Greyhound Bus Somewhere Between Tulsa, Oklahoma, and Louisville, Kentucky"
And... this is the opposite. I have no idea what's going on here. There's a chick, and she's travelling, and she's looking for Scarlet, and aside from being intrigued by Friday the 32nd, and being pretty sure that this chick is actually Scarlet, I've got nothing.

"How to Talk to Girls at Parties"
Well. I had the twist of this story called as soon as I saw the line "'They're just girls,' said Vic. 'They don't come from another planet.'" And I could really have done without the going on and on about alien things. But, otherwise, this was a pretty spot-on story about being a teenager and trying to talk to girls at parties. I love that Enn is just terrified of talking to the ladies, and that when he does he's so concerned about the actual talking part that he just completely forgets to listen and even when he's listening he's just like, whatever, must focus on chatting up this nice-looking girl. AND that he reads more than he talks and therefore mispronounces contradictory. I can't tell you how many times that has happened to me. I really must get out more!

The Unwritten Vol. 3, by Mike Carey and Peter Gross

Nooooo I forgot to pace myself and now I have to wait some unknown amount of time for the next volume! Nuts! But my husband got his hands on it and he's the type of person who accidentally spoils things on a regular basis, so really I had to read it. Had to.

And it is so fantastic. Even if you don't want to read this series, track down this volume at your library and find the page with the amusingly terrible rip-off of His Dark Materials. And then flip forward to the other page that looks like that one and that gets in a dig at George Lucas with a reference to "meta-condrians." Totally worth it.

Other things that are totally worth it: one of the issues that makes up this collection is a Choose Your Own Adventure. Did I mention FANTASTIC? My husband and I proved our perfectness for each other by choosing the exact same path through the story (we apparently are fans of evil evilness), but I also went back and read through a few other iterations and a) they were all interesting and b) some paths made sly winks at other paths that you wouldn't notice except if you read them all. Oh, AND, the whole point of the choosing of your own adventure is to make the point that you, you know, get to do that with your life. Hands-on morals? How intriguing.

Story, you say? There is one, but why aren't you just reading it? Seriously. Okay, fine.

Our friend Tom is presumed dead but still on the run from the Shadowy People. Someone has written a terrible fourteenth (yes, fourteenth) Tommy Taylor book and even though the publishing house knows that it wasn't Tom's dad, they're totes willing to make a jillionty-twelve dollars off of it. It includes the aforementioned scene with Lord Gabriel explaining Powder to Tommy Taylor. Oh, yes. It turns out that the SPs wrote it to bring Wilson Taylor out of hiding, which may or may not end up working. Also, we find out who Tom's mum is and we sort of find out what Lizzie Hexam's deal is ("sort of" because part of it is the CYOA). And if they're giving away all this information now, I am very interested in finding out what they aren't telling me!

I'll just wait here, impatiently, until I can find out.

Recommendation: For people who don't mind parodies of beloved children's fantasy series, people who like to choose their own adventures, and fans of the garrote.

Rating: 9/10
(RIP Challenge)

We Have Always Lived in the Castle, by Shirley Jackson

So, I read this for RIP two years ago and found it pretty fantastic, if easily spoil-able. And then a while back I found it on OverDrive as an audiobook and plopped it on my "for future reference list" and then I had disappointing times with the audio for The Turn of the Screw and I put off listening to it for fear of a repeat.

But I should have feared not! For this audio version is everything that The Turn of the Screw was not, with the narrator all suspenseful and whispery and actually way more creepy than I had previously thought Merricat to be. Excellence!

And so, yes. There's a Merricat, and her family is about half dead, including one person who is basically half-dead himself, and her sister Constance doesn't leave the house on account of the town doesn't care if Constance was acquitted of murdering her family, they're still jerk-pantses who like to sing songs about murder. And they sing them at Merricat when she goes into town, but she just imagines them all falling dead and she feels better.

That's pretty much how the whole book goes. Also: the town is full of mean people, Merricat's house is a refuge, a relative comes to call who starts to combine the two, hell breaks loose. Don't let townies into your house, is the moral of this story. Also beware the power of people in large groups (this is from the woman who wrote The Lottery, after all), the power of very aggressive people, and the power of superstition. And arsenic. Arsenic is bad stuff, guys.

I would tell you more specific things, but part of the charm of the story is in how Jackson sets everything up to be revealed, although even knowing the "secrets" of the book I still found a lot to love in it. So you should just go ahead and read it twice in a row. It's a short book. No problem.

Recommendation: For people who are or like to be creeped out by children and/or mobs. Also people who like poisonous mushrooms.

Rating: 9/10
(RIP Challenge)

The Lantern Read-Along: Parts III-IV

Augh! Why am I stopping here?? I need to get back to the book and see what happens oh my goodness.

Ahem. No, no, I'll be good and stop and answer these here questions without foreknowledge, and then I'm going to go snuggle with The Lantern some more. Well, probably not, I'm probably going to go watch some television. But the sentiment is there! This book is good!

Questions!

1. The title of this book is The Lantern, and a lantern makes an appearance in both of the stories. In Benedicte’s past, it had a meaning, but what do you think the lantern signifies in her future and in Eve’s story? What is this hard question? Am I back in Marling's class? Is this a terrible dream? Okay. Think. Lantern. Well, so, in Bénédicte's story the lantern is a sign of love between Bénédicte and her man-friend except then that love goes all to hell, so I'm guessing that might play a part in Our Narrator's story. Other than that, I have to admit I wasn't paying as much attention to the lantern as to the insanity of Bénédicte and Our Narrator's lives.

2. Carl mentioned scents in last weeks questions, but they have been addressed even more in these sections. What significance do you think scents have in this story overall? I'm really intrigued by the scents here, as they are more obviously signifying the presence of certain people (or at least their imagined presence), though I'm not keeping careful track. I also like watching the characters try to explain away the scents, unsuccessfully.

3. What do you think of the combining storyline of Marthe? She connects Benedicte, Eve, and Rachel. What do you think will be revealed about this connection in the next sections? Um. Well. It piqued my interest when it turned out that Rachel was also interested in this Marthe person, and that Sabine had had ulterior motives in saying, "Hey, maybe you should look into this." And I like that there is now a second connection (besides place) between the two narratives. But I'm content to leave the connection at that for now.

4. Now that things are beginning to move along, what do you think of the characters? Are any standing out for you? Do you particularly like any? Dislike any? Well, I'm going to go punch Sabine in the face for being completely indirect about everything, and then I'm going to have to go punch... well, every other character for the same reason. I am not a big fan of this lack of honesty and openness here. In fact, I think I'd have to say that I don't particularly like any character in this book.

5. What do you think really happened to Marthe and Annette? What do you think the significance of the bones in the pool are to the story? Especially now that it has been revealed that Rachel is also dead. First, I'm going with it's been "revealed" that Rachel is dead. I'm not trusting anyone at this point. Though dead makes perfect sense. And I definitely think that Pierre managed to bury Marthe and Annette under the pool, considering Pierre and the description of the bones, though I suppose that those fancy forensics people probably should have figured out if the bones were thirty years in the ground by now, so maybe that's just a red herring? It could be that Rachel's under there, too, after poking around too much into Marthe's story. Conspiracies!

6. Do you have any other things you think are significant to talk about? Are there any other predictions to be made for the last two sections of the book? I really want to know who this mystery woman wandering around the grounds is — is she Bénédicte's ghost? Rachel? A figment of everyone's imagination? I'm also a bit disappointed that Papa was dispensed with so easily, as I really wanted to know more about his particular brand of parenting. And, of course, I'd like to know just how large the stick up Severan's ahem is. I don't want to make any predictions for the rest of the book, but let's just say that I will find it very interesting if Rachel ends up under that pool and if mystery woman happens not to be a figment.

7. Lastly, what do you think of this book overall? Other than for the read-along, why are you reading it? Is it meeting your expectations? Oh, I am all about this book. If I didn't want to at least attempt to savor it, it would be read already. And I've already recommended it to my book club in the hopes of reading it again! So... yeah. Excellent. I wouldn't have picked it up but for the read-along, but now that I've started you couldn't make me stop.

Fragile Things Read-Along, Part the Sixth

Wait, the Sixth? There are only two more weeks after this? How did that happen?

Well, it happened happily this week, as I enjoyed every story that I read. Huzzah! We've got a sock monkey with an odd life, vampires, a creepy old lady, and a dude who can't write good, and as far as I can tell nothing that requires any homework on my part, which is probably why I found this set so enjoyable. Let me tell you more...

"My Life"
I only know that this story is meant to go with a sock monkey because the introduction tells me so, and I actually listened to it the first time without remembering that fact. So I can tell you that it is highly amusing whether you're imagining monkeys or a drunk old man. This is probably because whoever it is, his life is awesome. He's got a mum who's his dad (a dad who's his mum? However you want to put that, I guess) and who does underwater tango, and he's got a dissolved wife who was once in a coma for 70 years, but he'll tell you his life's not been very interesting and so I would like to know what else he considers normal! Even if he's making it all up, I'd buy him a drink to hear another story.

"Fifteen Painted Cards From a Vampire Tarot"
This was another one that didn't quite come across in audio because it's a set of very short stories, but it was certainly excellent in print, if hard to describe! Basically you've got a series of vignettes that get at the "truth" of vampires — talking about classic vampire mythology, writing new mythology, looking at how we regular humans react to vampires when we meet them (or "meet them"). I think my favorites are "The Magician", which is just a joke, really; "The Chariot", which imagines vampires as space colonists; and "The Wheel of Fortune", in which my favorite response to missing items — "I got hungry and ate it" — becomes a little more sinister.

"Feeders and Eaters"
Oh. Em. Gee. This is definitely my favorite story of the week, and is at least edging in on "A Study in Emerald" and "October in the Chair". It imagines a man meeting an old acquaintance in a bar, and that acquaintance going on about how he's been these past ten years, doing some work in the area, boarding with a nice family, meeting his fellow boarder and rescuing her from her sick bed with some raw meat that she ate right out of the container, blood dripping on the sheets... you know, the usual story. And then it gets a lot grosser, really, so if you're not of a strong stomach I recommend against this one! I think what's really interesting is that at one point The Acquaintance talks about having done something that anyone would do, and then later all but asks Our Narrator to do that same thing and Our Narrator has no idea what he's on about. And I can't decide whether Our Narrator is meant to be a big old jerk, or if I can rest assured that this is not something that anyone would do, because I probably couldn't do it.

"Diseasemaker's Croup"
This was a tough one — I haven't yet listened to it, but it's darn confusing in print so I may not even try. Basically, it's a story about a disease, as written by a person with said disease, and one of the symptoms is a complete lack of making sense in writing. Which, oh dear. I spent too much time confused by the first bad sentence before I got to the explain-y part, and then I was still baffled by most of the rest of the story, but by the time I got to the end I realized that the sentences weren't so much bad as out of order and I was having fun trying to figure out how the story would otherwise go. I still haven't got it fully pieced together, but I'm much more appreciative of it now than when I started!

The Unwritten Vol. 2, by Mike Carey and Peter Gross

I held out as long as I could, but after The Unwritten's super-intriguing start, I just couldn't stay away! And it's still super-intriguing and also baffling and also heartbreaking.

So last time there was Tom Taylor, the namesake of a bigger-than-but-basically-a-ripoff-of-Harry-Potter book franchise who is either not actually his father's offspring and therefore not worthy of the Tommy Taylor franchise or actually Tommy Taylor and therefore an unknown-to-himself Man Wizard. Which is still pretty much where we are, sort of.

Now, at the end of the last book someone murdered a whole bunch of people and Tom was the only one around to take the blame, so this story arc takes place in a French prison overseen by a governor who is not sympathetic to minor celebrity. But the prison thing isn't really important, what's important is all the people in it. Tom makes unlikely friends and allies with some of the inmates and makes a huge enemy of the governor for what seems at first to be no reason at all. Except that then we go look at the events from the governor's perspective and you find out that he has these kids who are obsessed with Tommy Taylor to the point of believing in his real and actual existence, and the governor is not pleased that Tom has effed things up big-time. Oh, and then those shadowy people from the last book decide to burn down the prison. No big.

Also, a trip to Nazi Germany via magical doorknob and an... interesting meeting with Josef Goebbels. Also, also, in the non-Tom comic at the end, an adventure with a foul-mouthed rabbit in a sort of Winnie-the-Pooh land. It's all very delightful, really.

I think the best part about this series so far is that even with the ridiculousness and insanity, it's all very literary. It loves literature and references it, in the form of the aforementioned Pooh spoof and an extended riff on the Song of Roland and of course all of the Harry Potter/fantasy-in-general allusions. It is also way more than its premise; sure, there's adventure and potential wizardliness, but there's also a lot to think about in terms of the role of media, the effect of childhood heroes on children and the adults who love them, and the magical power of attention. That middle one is what leads to the heartbreak in this volume, big time, as it does in real life.

I am definitely in for the next volume, and almost definitely for getting off my duff and patronizing my local comics shop for the issue-by-issue comics when the time comes. It's good stuff.

Recommendation: Yeah, you'd better have that strong stomach for some of the violence in here, and also a strong heart. A love of the f-word can't hurt, either.

Rating: 9/10
(RIP Challenge)

North by Northwest

Oh, right, I did promise to watch some movies for RIP, didn't I? And my list does say, "Um. Hitchcock?", and this is totally suspenseful so first movie DONE.

And it was pretty good! North by Northwest tells the story of this guy Thornhill who gets mistaken for some other guy (who turns out not to exist) and then is almost murdered The Postman Always Rings Twice-style except he turns out to be a pretty awesome drunk driver. Except he gets caught for, you know, drunk driving, and then he's all "Nonono, someone else poured a giant bottle of bourbon down my throat and then tried to kill me," and everyone's like, "Right," and the attempted murderers totally make him look like a crazy person and then like a murderer and then he's on the lam and he meets a sexy lady who is sexy and also not actually on his side. Also there are some FBI or whatever people who are like, "Sweet, this guy is solving our nonexistant-dude problem." But Thornhill is going to prove himself innocent whether anyone likes it or not.

I had some stuff to say on the Twitters (sidenote: it took me way too long to figure out how to do that search) while I was watching the movie, and you can see from the seeming non-sequitur-ness of my comments that it is an odd one. Using murder as a flirting tool? Attempted murder by crop-duster? Annoying an auctioneer to get a police escort out of an auction? Having a chase down Mount Freakin' Rushmore? I don't... I just don't understand.

And I especially don't understand the ending, which is like (SPOILERS), oh, look, she's gonna fall down the mountain, oh, just kidding, now they're on a train and possibly married and OH LOOK AT THAT TRAIN GOING INTO A TUNNEL WHAT COULD THAT POSSIBLY MEAN. The end. That chick is nice and all, but I rather wish she had fallen off the mountain with my beloved Martin Landau, who can stare at me with those eyes all day long.

Ahem.

Anyway, the ending aside, I kind of liked the ridiculousness of the whole movie, which had some wonderfully quotable lines, like "I don't like the way Teddy Roosevelt is looking at me." Excellent. And while sometimes the exposition was a little much, I enjoyed the times when I was like, "How did he get out of THAT situation" and then the character would exposit for me. It's not the most subtle movie ever, but it's certainly an entertaining time!

Rating: 7/10
(RIP Challenge)

The Lantern Read-Along: Parts I-II

This is my second attempt at a read-along, occuring conveniently within the same time frame as my first attempt! This one is a bit different, though, as here I'm reading a whole novel rather than short stories, and there are set questions to answer rather than me just going on about things. So if you're not reading along with me, this might not make a lot of sense. I promise I'll do a regular review post after I'm done with the whole thing!

1. This may seem like an obvious opening question, but what do you think of The Lantern thus far? Oh, hey, just kidding about not going on about things. :) I was iffy at first, with the odd prologue and the boring girl-meets-boy bits in the early chapters, but once Our Narrator and Dom get out to the house, and once Our Other Narrator starts talking about her creep-tastic brother, I was like, please, tell me more! I'm glad this book is broken up into parts, because without the sort-of denoument of the second part, I might still be reading the book instead of answering these questions!

2. The book appears to be following the experiences of two different women, alternating back and forth between their stories. Are you more fond of our main protagonist's story or of Benedicte's or are you enjoying them both equally? Which do I like more? Hmmmmmmmmmmmm... I'm not terribly interested in Our Narrator, though I am intrigued by her investigation into Dom's ex and am hoping to hear more of those fairy tales she found soon. I'm also not terribly interested in Our Other Narrator, Bénédicte, as much as I am interested in her brother Pierre and his interests, namely his homicidal tendencies. I'm sensing that they will come into play later. I suppose if I had to pick one narrator for the rest of the novel, I would at this point choose to stay with Our Narrator, because I like investigation more than dead cats.

3. The Lantern is a book filled with descriptions of scents. How are you liking (or disliking) that aspect of the book? How do you feel about the lavish description of scents? How are the short chapters working for you? I'm not really noticing the scent descriptions as being overly lavish, but I suppose that after the sensory love-fest of The Night Circus I'm almost expecting it! As for the short chapters, I was put off by them at first but now I really think they work well to keep up the suspense of both narratives and allow Lawrenson to easily skip around in time.

4. How would you describe the atmosphere of Parts 1 and 2 of The Lantern? Um, mildly spooky? It's all about that decrepit house, isn't it? Even the things that would normally be completely innocuous are coming across as tinged with spookiness if they happened anywhere near that house. And all the secret-keeping helps, too!

5. Has anything surprised you to this point? Anything stand out? I was rather surprised by Bénédicte's father bricking Bénédicte and her brother into that room. That is a parenting technique I've never heard of before. And the fact that Pierre knew what was happening... I think there's plenty more to come from Bénédicte's narrative. I also want to know more about this pineapple.

6. What are your feelings about Dom in these first two sections of the story? I really don't know how to feel about him. Sure, he's being intensely secretive, but only being able to see it from Our Narrator's point of view, I wonder if he's really being that terrible. Certainly Our Narrator recognizes that she's gone a bit off the deep end in mistrusting him. I think that perhaps he is fueling her neurosis a bit by not even throwing her a scrap of information, but considering my fears that there's only bad information there, I can't yet blame him.

Bonus question: Did anyone else hear "Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again" ringing in their ears through the first sections of the book? Okay, I get it, I'll get around to reading Rebecca. Someday. Maybe.

Fragile Things Read-Along, Part the Fifth

Man. I think what I'm discovering more than anything while reading through this collection is that I know very little about fantasy. I've mentioned before and I'll mention again this week that I'm sure I would like more than a few of these stories better if I just had any idea what Gaiman was talking about. And that's good, on the one hand, because it inspires me to go learn new things, but bad, on the other, because that doesn't help me understand or appreciate the stories now! Alas.

"Locks"
I get this one! I totally know what's going on here! This is a cute little poem-y story about stories, "Goldilocks and the Three Bears" specifically, and the telling of them. Gaiman writes as himself, talking to his daughter about reading "Goldilocks" to her and how she would take part in the telling of the story and sometimes re-write the story, and that's all cute and adorable. But then Gaiman also takes into account how it feels to be a parent reading the stories, and how there are always parts that read differently for adults (see: my reaction to Peter Pan earlier this year) and how it's a bit sad to know that the adorable child will grow into a cynical adult who locks his doors to keep out strangers who might eat his porridge. This is definitely my favorite story of the week.

"The Problem of Susan"
And here is where I admit that my knowledge of the Narnia books comes mostly from the 2005 movie, which I didn't pay terribly much attention to, and various references to the series in other things I've read. Which is to say that I don't have any attachment toward Susan and so this story is entirely lost on me. What I gather is that Susan, who didn't die in some train crash, has grown up to be a professor of literature, since retired. And she's being interviewed about children's literature by some young thing and Narnia comes up and that's when I learned all that stuff about Susan, and then Susan gets sad or something and goes and has a nap forever. And the young thing has a dream about Aslan and the White Witch having the sexytimes and, um, okay. Ew. I'm not sure I want this one explained to me.

"Instructions"
Props to the awesome poetry this week. I liked "Instructions" a lot because while I may not know a lot about fantasy stories past and present, I am certainly well-versed in fantasy conventions, and that's what this poem is about. It is, as the title suggests, a set of instructions for what to do if you find yourself stuck in a fairy tale. Basically, don't do anything stupid and be nice to everyone, which are not bad instructions in general. Also, there's a cameo from my friends the months of the year, which is delightful.

"How Do You Think It Feels"
Um, yes. Least favorite story. Gargoyles. LOTS of sexytimes, including sort of with a plasticine gargoyle. Extra-marital affair(s?). Not my cup of tea. Things I did like: the reference to the narrator being "by far the older man" at 27 to his lady's 20. The narrator getting totally shut down by his lady when he offers to actually finally leave his family for her. The lady getting eaten by the gargoyle. Can't go wrong with people getting eaten, I say.

The Unwritten Vol. 1, by Mike Carey and Peter Gross

I don't remember where I first heard about this series... one of those blogs or podcasts or something that tells me what's good. I don't remember what I was promised, either, but whatever it was I liked it enough to give it a shot.

That forgetting posed a bit of a problem in the first few pages, which I read and thought, "Whaaaaaaaaat is this? This is not very good. What's with all these words? It's a graphic novel!" And I really almost gave it up right then, but I said to myself, I said self, you've done this before and maybe you should just give it a little bit longer.

And of course, I was right. The second time, with the reading just one more page. Because it turns out that first three pages or whatever are meant to be pages from a not-graphic novel series that is like Harry Potter et al. and therefore is written as a send-up of Harry Potter et al. And once I figured that out, I was much happier!

The real novel, the graphic one, is about this fella called Tom Taylor whose father wrote the aforementioned series that instead of Harry Potter is Tommy Taylor. Tom is emphatically not Tommy, but is still making a living going around to all the cons and whatnot signing Tommy Taylor signatures and talking about his father's work, which his father can't do because he's gone mysteriously missing, or possibly just abandoned everyone. And right now Tom has two opposing problems causing him no end of trouble — a group of people who think he's not really Tommy Taylor but some kid his father absconded with to make himself look good, and another group that thinks he's totally Tommy Taylor, magical wizardry and all. And some people in that last group would really rather him dead...

There's so much to this story, I've barely cracked the surface of it, which makes sense considering these are just the first 5 comics of an ongoing series. But other interesting things so far are Tom's obsession (given to him by his father) for literary locations, a mysterious staircase that has more stairs going down than coming up, people possibly made of words, and some revisionist-history backstory involving Rudyard Kipling.

I may or may not have gone right out the day after reading this volume to get the other two that currently exist. I might have to track down a comic shop if I get through those too quickly...

Recommendation: So far, I'd recommend for people with a good sense of humor about fantasy conventions and a slightly strong stomach.

Rating: 9/10
(RIP Challenge, A to Z Challenge)

Fragile Things Read-Along, Part the Fourth

What an odd week of stories. We've got two ostensibly true stories, one story broken up into several even smaller stories, and another one of those stories that seems to require a little bit of homework to understand. Also, the return of the sodium yellow light, which really needs to be retired. On the plus side, I'm pretty sure I liked all of the stories this week, though I have yet to match my love for the first week's. A girl can dream...

"Good Boys Deserve Favors"
I can totally get behind this story, about Gaiman as a double-bass-playing tiny person who didn't like to practice. I never liked to practice my instrument as a kid, either, although I never had the opportunity to sneak a book into my "practice sessions" and I feel a little gypped. (I probably shouldn't say that.) The climax of this story is interesting — the young Gaiman finds himself chosen to play his double bass in front of a potential school donor, and he just makes something up and manages to please most of the listeners, though it's not clear just how good this made-up piece is. The fact that his headmaster described it as "modern, yet classical," leads me to believe that it was probably very very weird, and that possibly the story is really about how Potential School Donors are not terribly discerning in their music.

"The Facts in the Case of the Departure of Miss Finch"
Okay, this is another ostensibly true story, though in this one I think that "ostensibly" is the key word here. Ostensibly. Because what we have is the story of Ostensible Neil Gaiman getting dragged to the circus with some Ostensible Friends and an Ostensibly Crazy Person called Miss Finch, and then ending up (beginning up? Gaiman starts the story with the ending) without Miss Finch but with some delicious sushi. The circus is no regular circus, and no Night Circus either, but some odd conglomeration of things like knife-throwers and trick motorcyclists and fake hand-losers who take their guillotined fake hands and chase people around with them to the Benny Hill theme, apparently. But the real story part of the story is that geobiologist Miss Finch, who has all night been bitching about the circus and also the dangers of sushi, gets picked to have her wishes come true and suddenly saber-toothed tigers exist and the circus disappears. And even in the story, it's not clear exactly why this happens... did Miss Finch really get her wishes? Was she a well-done audience plant? Was the whole circus some sort of elaborate joke on the Ostensibles? At first listen, I was a bit annoyed with the story for not giving me any useful exposition, but after reading it again I'm content to come up with elaborate exposition of my own and call it canon.

"Strange Little Girls"
This story did not come across at all in audio, so I just skipped it and read through it later. The reason it fails in audio is that all of the pieces in it are just paragraphs, and you don't get the print formatting that tells you, hey, these are all separate little stories and not actually about the same person. So it's a bunch of little stories about different people, and actually they're less "stories" than "snapshots" or whatever the print equivalent is. So, difficult to describe. I'll just stick with saying that my favorites are "Love" (in which a woman totally gets a man in trouble with his wife) and "Heart of Gold" (whose structure just amuses me).

"Harlequin Valentine"
I liked this story a lot, even though I know nothing about harlequins outside of Harley Quinn and it is obvious that I am missing a lot of the subtler points. But with my second small-but-literal spit take of the book, at the point when I realized that was no paper heart pinned to Missy's door, I couldn't say no to the rest of the story. I really liked the Harlequin character, who is completely ridiculous and well-rendered by Gaiman on audio, and who gives his heart to a human called Missy for funsies, apparently, and then follows her around to see what she'll do with it. Well, once Harlequin makes the mistake of telling her whose heart it is, Missy becomes my favorite character as she takes the heart and eats it with ketchup and hash browns so that she can become Harlequin herself, and leaves the erstwhile Harlequin to the human life. Ketchup and hash browns, people. I love it. And now I must go look up this commedia dell'arte stuff, because it is apparently delightful.

Black Plumes, by Margery Allingham

Well, I mean, let's be real. After that whirlwind romance with The Night Circus (which I just very reluctantly took back to the library), no other suitor was going to compare at all. So it might be that. But I really did not like Black Plumes.

No, no, it's not that I didn't like it, it's that I didn't like it, and in fact really it's that I was and am completely apathetic toward it. I read the book, I learned whodunnit, and I was like, "Oh. Okay. That's cool, I guess."

Maybe I've been spoiled by the other "Golden Age Girls"? Sayers, Christie, and Marsh (or really just all the authors of the period that I've read) have given me some crazy death or other that seems impossible or is really weird or has, like, twelve people who could have done it. The murder in this novel just sort of happens and then someone comes to investigate and then everyone suspects everyone else and then at the end it was some other guy who was never suspected, which, I guess I should have called that?

And there was this sub-plot-line with a pretend engagement that I actually didn't like because it was just kind of annoying, and I didn't care about either of the parties or any of the parties in the whole book and I couldn't even tell you what the inspector's name is or anything about him besides that he doesn't say "just" or "joke" but rather "chust" and "choke" because apparently that's what they say wherever he's from and man that accent as done by this narrator was very distracting. So maybe it's an audiobook problem?

I don't know. I have really nothing else to say about this book, and that makes me kind of sad. Should I give Allingham another chance? Is this actually her worst book and I chust made a terrible decision? Please say it's so!

Recommendation: I just... I don't know.

Rating: 4/10
(RIP Challenge, Vintage Mystery Challenge)

The Night Circus, by Erin Morgenstern

I don't want to talk about this book. I want to snuggle with it. Snuggle snuggle snugg—ow, those are some pointy edges! Okay, book, you can just stay over there a minute.

Okay, so, this book. I heard some folks bein' real excited about it earlier this year, and I was like, magicians? Circuses? Secret plots OF DOOM? I am so in. And so I put a hold on it at the library, some ridiculous amount of time in advance. And then in the intervening weeks this book seemed to get ALL the publicity, showing up on lots of blogs and in newspapers and on NPR, and everyone was like OMG THIS BOOK IS TEH AWESOMEST and I was like, ohlord. Because I've read those books before, and I have not liked them.

But as you can tell, this book I liked a ton, possibly because all those things that drew me into the story, and that made me worry that they would not be as good as everyone was shouting about, were really not that important. Yes, there are magicians. There is a mysterious contest so hush-hush that even the competitors have no idea what the contest is or how to win it. There is intrigue and subterfuge. But what I cared about was the circus.

The circus is this nearly completely black-and-white affair, with dozens of little tents with your usual circus fare and a few tents with really magical things — a magician disguised as an illusionist, a labyrinth, a wishing tree, a landscape made entirely of ice but still realistically aroma-ed. And what makes the circus truly special is that the author makes sure you know exactly what everything looks like and smells like and feels like and all those other sensory things. About a bonfire:

"As you walk closer, you can see that it sits in a wide black iron cauldron, balanced on a number of clawed feet. Where the rim of a cauldron would be, it breaks into long strips of curling iron, as though it has been melted and pulled apart like taffy. The curling iron continues up until it curls back into itself, weaving in and out amongst the other curls, giving it the cage-like effect. The flames are visible in the gaps between and rising slightly above. They are obscured only at the bottom, so it is impossible to tell what is burning, if it is wood or coal or something else entirely."

Morgenstern intersperses short sensory passages like that throughout the novel, but she writes all of her scenes in a similarly opulent way. At first I was a bit put off by this seemingly over-verbose writing, and in a few places it sort of gets away from Morgenstern, but in general she makes it work fantastically and it is absolutely my favorite aspect of the book. I really want to get my hands on the audiobook so that this writing and Jim Dale's voice can make beautiful babies in my brain.

Ahem.

If you're more of a story person, I'm not sure you'll be as enamored with the book; the plot is fairly simple, starts off quite slow, and ends abruptly AND with a not-declared-as-such-but-it-totally-is-and-can't-deny-it epilogue, but though I found myself saying more than once "If this goes one step farther I'm calling shenanigans," the book managed never to take that step, at least by my measurements.

I wrote on Twitter the other night that "I've read through the last page of The Night Circus, but I'm certainly not finished with it..." and that holds true today. I spent more than a week reading this book not because I didn't have time to devour it in one sitting but because I didn't want to. I wanted to savor that writing and put off leaving the circus as long as possible. And I'm not kidding about the audiobook. My library doesn't have it yet but when they do, you'll be seeing another post about The Night Circus right here.

Recommendation: If you like shiny pretty things or magic or clown-less circuses, you'll probably be happy here.

Rating: 9/10
(RIP Challenge, A to Z Challenge)

Fragile Things Read-Along, Part the Third

Well, I am pleased to report that we do not have a repeat last week's intense befuddlement and annoyance. These stories are certainly not any more cut and dried, because that would be no fun, but at least I feel more internal sense-making and also some intrigue. I like to be intrigued.

Here's where we stand:

"Going Wodwo"
I liked this the least of this week's stories, probably because it's one of those poem things and I'm still working on being a poetry person. It may happen, someday, but it hasn't happened yet. But anyway, this twenty-line poem describes a person, well, "going wodwo," or becoming, as the intro says, "a wild man of the woods." I don't quite follow the path of the story of the poem, nor does it have the delightful cadence of "The Fairy Reel", but I will give the poem props for imagery. The first stanza reeled me in — "Shedding my shirt, my book, my coat, my life / Leaving them, empty husks and fallen leaves / Going in search of food and for a spring / Of sweet water" — and even though I don't really get it, I really like the phrase "My skin will be / my face now." Well, if by "like" I mean "am sort of really creeped out by." Which I do.

"Bitter Grounds"
There is a lot going on in this story. The main plot, I suppose, is that there's a fellow who up and runs away from his life, stops running temporarily to help out a random guy who subsequently completely disappears, then sort of decides to be this guy for a while. As you do. But there's so much interesting stuff to think about as this plot moves along — the disappeared guy leaves behind an abandoned, totalled car that our narrator minutes previously had seen as intact if broken down. Disappeared Guy was an academic writing about zombies. Our narrator, while pretending to be DG, makes a new friend who also disappears, and some other new friends who may or may not exist. Like last week's "Closing Time", this story has an ending that I don't quite understand, but this time I felt like the confusing ending at least fit with the story, instead of being completely jarring. Or possibly I am more forgiving when there are potential zombies involved.

"Other People"
As soon as I heard Gaiman say, in his fantastic voice, "'Other People,'" I said to myself, "Hell is?" And I was SO RIGHT. I love it when that happens. There are no "other people" in this story, but there is Hell, and it is very hellish. There's a guy, and he wanders into Hell, and he meets a demon who proceeds to beat the crap out of him with 211 different instruments of OW. And then, for good measure, the demon forces the guy to admit to himself every bad thing he's ever done or said or thought or probably thought about thinking, over and over and over again. And from what I can tell, that is a LOT of bad things. Interestingly, I missed the important point of the story while ears-reading because I apparently had the attention span of a goldfish that day, but as soon as I started eyes-reading it yesterday I decided that this story was fantastic. This week's favorite!

"Keepsakes and Treasures"
Oh, goodness, I am turning into one of those Parents Television Council people, aren't I? I was all for the story when I thought it was going to be violence and sloppy eating, but then it took a turn toward the sex intercourse and I was like, "Oh, that's gross." I mean, I still read the story, but I really wanted more gruesome killing. Please don't tell me what that means about me. Ahem. Anyway. Here's an example of a story where I don't know any of the background (Gaiman notes in the intro that this story is based on characters from a comic that I've never heard of), but the story was just fine anyway. To spoil everything, there's an unnamed dude who works for this guy called Mr. Alice, and Unnamed Dude spends a lot of time and effort and Alice's money to procure for Alice the most beautiful boy in the world for the sex intercourse and then after not very long the beautiful boy gets the flu and dies. And so this is really just a very rated-R way of telling a very universal truth, and even though I was like, "ew, cooties," the way that Gaiman wrote the heck out of this story really sold it to me. There's the setup of our unnamed narrator being a bit of a serial killer (sidenote: I did a small but very literal spit take at the dissonance between these consecutive sentences: "She was a looker, my mum. I didn't know which one of the four was my dad, so I killed all of them." FANTASTIC), and so also really completely disaffected by all the bad and/or weird stuff Alice has him hired to do, and there's one scene that Gaiman wrote where I read it and I was like, "That's weird, a little bit," and then a couple pages later Gaiman writes this other little scene where I'm like, "Ew," and then I remember that first scene and I'm like, "Okay, now I need to go take a shower, euucchh." In a good way? I don't know.

I'm not quite hooked on Fragile Things again, but I am feeling much much better about its chances for being awesome. How about you guys?

Thinner, by Richard Bachman

I'm always a little confused by authors who use pseudonyms but are also like, "I am totally this person," so people will read their books. Like I've cataloged a few books that are authored by NORA ROBERTS (writing as J.D. Robb) or... someone whose name I forget where her author bio is like "This Person is the pseudonym of That Other Person." Why are we bothering with the pseudonym, then?

All this is to say that I didn't actually realize this was a Richard Bachman book until well after I started listening, because everything I looked at was all STEPHEN EFFING KING all the time. It is also to say that when people know they are reading a Stephen King book it is a little weird to hear the narrator talking about how it's like he's in a Stephen King book, but according to my friend Cory this is not an unusual thing to happen in a King novel. I don't know if that's good or bad.

Aaaaanyway the novel. I had actually thought this was a short story, because the plot — a heavy guy gets cursed to become thinner, which is cool until all of a sudden he can barely eat enough to survive — did not seem like a story that could be sustained over 10 hours(!). And indeed, there were a few parts where I was like, "Okay I get it let's move it along now?"

But on the whole the story was delightfully horror-ful. It starts with a guy, Billy, who's like, "That creepy gypsy guy was creepy. Why did he say 'THINNER' at me?" And then he's all losing weight, and you find out that the creepy gypsy guy said that because Billy ran over the gypsy's daughter who ran out into the street and so he was found not guilty of manslaughter or whatever except that then it turns out that maybe he wasn't quite so not guilty after all? And maybe the gypsy isn't only targeting him? But Billy is a lawyer, so he's gonna fight back, even if he has to drive all the way up to Maine (you knew Maine was in here somewhere, didn't you?) to find these gypsies and bitch at them. Because that's really what it boils down to.

And really, the driving up I-95 bit could have just been completely excised from the story, because I really do understand that gypsies are creepy, and also why is it that everyone is like "Man, I haven't seen a gypsy in like 25 years" and then at the EXACT SAME TIME like "Oh, gypsies. You know how they roll." Do you? Are you sure?

But the whole cursing aspect is interesting, and Billy's visits to the other afflicted-types are quite creepy, and the ending is the only possible ending I would have accepted for Billy so it's fine that it's pretty well telegraphed. Also, I knew I liked Joe Mantegna, the audiobook narrator, from his work on the teevee, but seriously that man can read a book. He did some fantastic voice work to the point where I was sometimes like, "Isn't Joe Mantegna reading this book? Who is this guy? That is Joe Mantegna? Are you sure?" I think he should probably read every Stephen King book, because he can make with the spooky and terrifying. Maybe he should do a version of The Turn of the Screw! How much would it cost to commission that?

Recommendation: On the whole, I enjoyed my ten hours with Stephen and Joe. Especially Joe. And while I think the novel should be much much shorter, I do still think it's worth a read if you're in the mood for some gruesome.

Rating: 8.5/10 (bonus points for Joe!)
(RIP Challenge, What's in a Name Challenge)