Book Review: Bag of Bones (fiction)

Warning: Plot Spoiler

"Bag of Bones," like much of Stephen King's work, pulls you in quick with rich characters, and plots that tantalizingly unfold, keeping pages turning in a blur. True to the author's literary roots, Bag of Bones is a ghost story set in rural Maine -- the TR to be exact -- a place where you don't belong if not from those parts.

The protagonist is Mike Noonan, a man who writes for a living, and has lost the love of his life, his wife Jo, to a freak car accident. As Mike fights the writer's block that has settled in since her demise, he recycles old manuscripts he keeps in a deposit box; touting them as new material to his ever-hungry agent and publisher. However, the box is now empty, and Noonan must face the realization that his creative well is empty, having dried and died with his wife. Strange dreams, and the hope that a change of scenery will spark ideas, Mike heads to the TR, and his old summer back-woods home: Sara Laughs. Sara Laughs is perched over Dark Score Lake and the Street -- a rambling path that circumvents the shore; a place where townies stroll, where 'good pups and vile ones' alike can take the air.

Arriving in town to the stares of nosy locals and acquaintances, Mike Noonan nearly runs over Kyra Devore -- a precocious little girl who is the daughter of Mattie Devore, grand-daughter of Max Devore. Max Devore is a computer mogul who is determined to gain custody of Kyra from his daughter-in-law Mattie, the widow of his son. Mike comes to Kyra and Mattie's cause, urged on by whispers and rearranged fridge magnets in Sara Laughs; using his wealth and attraction to the young mother to fight a legal battle on their behalf. With this mission, Mike Noonan breaks through his writers block ,and begins a new story in the sweltering heat of his second floor office; on an old IBM typewriter that belonged to his dear wife.

Soon the natural and supernatural intertwine and we move in time, exposing violence that plants the seeds of ghostly revenge on the descendants of its perpetrators. The novel climaxes with a violent storm -- a storm of the century one might say -- where a drive-by claims the young mother, and leaves Kyra in Mike's charge; where he must prevent the last death in a long line of murdered children, and break the ghostly hold over the dynasties and thick woods of the TR.

Bibliography: King, Stephen (1999). Bag of Bones. New York, NY: Scribner.

Halloween (I know it's only September, but who can wait?)

October: Her crisp autumnal air clearing and refreshing the soul, her harvest nourishing the flesh.

Michael Myers emerges from the shadows; the glint of moonlight on the blade momentarily blinds.

Fallen leaves of another season dance on the wind in melange vortexes of orange, red and yellow.

The mummy breathes a millennium-old breath, scattering dust from its yellowed wraps into the still air of the dark crypt.

The pumpkins sit amongst the brown, tortured grass in a patch beyond the knee-high gray stone farmer’s wall. They wait for a child’s hand to break their twisted umbilical to the Earth.

A glint in his dark eyes makes her freeze, allowing him to sink his fangs into the protruding rhythmically throbbing veins on her pink neck. The tearing of flesh sends a shiver through her body and she slowly closes her eyes. As the vampire begins to drain her lifeforce, she can only moan with pleasure.

Flickering yellow candlelight emanates from within the hollowed corpse of a Jack O'Lantern that sits sentry on the porch of a white-shingled house. The glow drifts out roughly cut triangular eyes, nose and teeth. Barely perceptible and unnoticed, the pumpkin moves ever-so-slightly of its own accord.

He leaves the warmth of the pub behind, turning for a fleeting gin-blurred glimpse to the swaying wooden Green Griffin sign that swings from the building's old wall. Penetrating the thick fog of the moor, he moves toward the dimly lit kitchen window of his farmhouse in the distance. A snarling sound emerges from the enveloping darkness, lingers and then disappears on the wisps of moisture. The sound quickly escalates to a growl. It is close and loud. He passes out from fear and falls to the squishy ground, awakening only to witness his innards being torn from his abdomen by the feeding werewolf.

The eve of Samhain; the dead warm themselves by your fire.

The twisted and tortured black tree trunk is stark against the carpet of fire-colored leaves. Its ancient grimaced face and twisted roots demarcate the periphery of the dark and foreboding woods.

She screams and stumbles, trips back up, and begins to run again. Somehow, above the whine of the revving chain saw and from behind his hockey mask, she can hear the maniac's slow and deep breathing. She falls again and whimpers. Surprisingly, the teeth of the chainsaw tickle as they start to sink into the meat of her thigh.

The scarecrow’s tattered brown clothes twitch in the gentle breeze of the freshly cut hay field. Its arms are outstretched and head hung low as if suspended by a hook sunk between shoulder blades. A dull red glows from the dark pits of its cloth eyes.

When the lights finally came on and the tortured babble of tongues ceased, Eleanor realizes that it is not Theodora’s hand she was holding; as she is far across the shadow-filled room. Eleanor’s hand aches from the cold, tight grip she assumed belonged to her friend. She shivers and wonders aloud, "Who was holding my hand?"

The smell of cider and cinnamon floats to my nostrils and the warmth of the fire brings blood to my cheeks. I leave the twilight and the chill of the eve beyond the now closed door. High in the bare tree branches, the full moon is full, low and yellow. It is trapped in the spiders web of thin bare branches that sway in the fall breeze.

Frankenstein stumbles forward, glaring from beneath his thick brow. The frail farm girl screams and runs for the dark derelict house. A tear travels down the black stitches that adorn the abomination's hash of a cheek.

An anxious rap at the door and muffled "Trick or Treat!" announces the arrival of the greedy hands of a goblin, ninja, Batman, and vampire. Darth Vader is also there, and his arm shyly probes from behind this larger legion of children. The frenzy leaves a third of the sweet candy on the floor. The costumed visitors disappear into the frosty night as quickly as the came. Their departure leaves tattered wrappers from a peanut-butter-cup, Crunch and Butterfinger bar.

Frosty nights with a hint of snow. The long bony fingers of the dark tree, scratching against the window, try to get in. If they manage to open the pane and enter my bedroom, they will bring with them...one shudders to imagine. Under the covers is safe...

Happy Halloween!

Book Review: Duma Key - A Novel (fiction)

Warning: Plot Spoiler

Stephen King’s, “Duma Key - A Novel,” is a tale that takes place far from King’s usual haunted domain: the State of Maine. Instead, a tropical Florida Key is the locale for this disturbingly addictive narrative.

Edgar Freemantle is a construction millionaire who lost his arm – and bumped his brain – thanks to a broken crane. In exchange for his memory, a loving wife, and a normal life, Edgar receives the gift (or curse) of mental powers. It seems his ‘new life’ on Duma Key (his Doctor recommended a change of scenery from Minnesota) and a renewed interest in the art of painting pictures has sparked a power (fed by the strange tropical island?) to predict with paintings…and shape the future itself.

As his talent for the canvas rapidly grows, Edgar meets his neighbor, Jerome Wireman, a lawyer who has also had an injury and is aware of certain strange things about life on Duma Key. Wireman, a lovable character who tends to speak in Spanish (from his years married to a Mexican woman), cares for Elizabeth Eastlake, an Alzheimer patient and descendant of an early Florida landed family. She has inherited the overgrown and undeveloped Duma Key. Renting a beach front artist retreat called Salmon Point (or ‘Big Pink’ to Edgar), Edgar begins his recovery and new life while listening to the seashells whispering beneath the house as each wave rolls in.

Soon a ship with ragged sails and seaweed-covered hull begins appearing at sunset and dominating his paintings. This ‘plague ship’ has an agenda that threatens to consume him and those he loves. The schooner’s captain has slept long but now is awake. And she is hungry – ravenous -- not for blood, but for souls.

The story of injury and age permeates this tale, and is perhaps influenced by Mr. King’s own brush with death. Also, the protagonist goes form amateur to American Wonder, much as Mr. King’s own writings have finally been getting the recognition they deserve.

Overall, Duma Key is a long, slowly building story with rich characters, an interesting locale, and an antagonist that you strive to understand. When the author shares the big picture (or, in this case, painting) in the final chapters, all you can do is shiver. This one is hard to put down and is perfect for the cooler, shorter days of the encroaching fall.

Bibliography: King, Stephen (2008). Duma Key: A Novel. New York, NY: Scribner

Best eBook Reader

I finally have had a chance to experience the latest in eBook readers. For those who don't know, you can download thousands of different book titles and enjoy them from a pencil-thin, paperback-sized electronic reader whose screen displays text as if it was printed on book paper. This is a wonder for those of us with no room for a private library or who are sick of pawning off old books on relatives. It is especially useful for those of us studying; much easier than lugging around six text books. So, from the variety of readers available, which do you choose? Having an affinity for Sony products, I naturally looked at the Sony Reader. Knowing that Amazon's Kindle is stealing all the headlines, I took it it head-to-head with Sony's.

Very quickly I realized that Amazon's Kindle eBook reader was superior. A larger E-Ink screen (by 1"), wireless connectivity, more internal memory (256mb vs. 128mb), a quick-charge, long-life battery (7 days vs. 7.5k pages), and, most importantly, a huge amount of eBooks available (145k vs. 45k titles), make the Kindle my pick.

Book Review: The Last Patriot (fiction)

Warning: Plot Spoiler

Brad Thor’s “The Last Patriot” is a taught thriller that mixes history, modern politics, religion, and international espionage.

Scott Harvath, a former SEAL and Secret Service Agent turned Homeland Security covert, becomes embroiled with a plot regarding Islam and the Prophet Mohammed’s final revelation. Set in the War on Terror, the American’s want the prophet’s final revelation exposed. The president launches an attempt to get hold of a rare Cervantes thought to contain encoded information. On the heels of Harvath, the militants do all within their power to stop the lost revelation from ever seeing the light of day. With the help of a convert American assassin known as Dodd, the militant Muslims chase Harvath and force him to utilize his myriad skills and weaponry (Anyone that knows firearms will recognize Harvath’s tools as anything but fiction).

The final chapters of this latest novel from the New York Times Best-selling author offer a satisfying thread involving Thomas Jefferson, his American properties (Monticello and Polar Forest), and the Muslim pirates of the Barbary Coast. Historic and architectural investigation leads to a hidden mechanism crafted by Al-Jazari -- a Golden Age of Islam inventor. The mechanism has encoded within its gears Mohammed’s final revelation; a revelation of peace. The denouement leaves you relieved that traitors die, and hopeful that militant Islam will collapse from within.

A recommended summer read!

Bibliography: Thor, Brad (2008). The Last Patriot. New York: Simon & Schuster, Inc.

R.I.P. Gary Gygax

For those of us that grew up with Dungeons & Dragons, the news that its creator, E. Gary Gygax, had passed away was a shot to the heart.

I remember many a winter day, hanging out in my basement in the company of good friends; a table full of dice, paper, and lead miniatures.

The creativity this game instilled I carry still, and the love of fantasy it imparted has never waned. And we owe it all to the genius of one...Gary Gygax.

For those about to roll, we salute you!

Change of Command

Free-lance writing can be a pain in the ass. I had one customer verbally offer $500 per page, then published my work and insisted I had agreed to do it pro-bono. Another magazine accepted my article (an interview of a World War II soldier) and sat on it for two years. When I finally inquired as to its status (i.e pay me!), I was informed that the magazine had changed editors and the new one was passing on my work. Another magazine asked for re-write after re-write and, once I got everything just right (about 60 work-hours later), they closed their doors. I asked the editor when they found out about them shutting down and she told me, "right before you submitted your work." Thanks for nothing and a big waste of time.

Dealings with editors can be a double-edged sword. They are the gatekeepers and you do not want to bug them. However, you also need to get your work published and be paid. So, balance these two things. Make sure to check Writers Digest for how long you can expect to wait after submitting queries or manuscripts, then double it to be realistic. I had one article accepted and it took three years to be published and paid. Patience is a writers best friend.

Please share your writing horror stories in your comments...

Keep writing!

Pete's Patented Primo Blackberry Sauce

Every writer needs a BBQ recipe! Here is mine:

Ingredients:

- About 5 lbs. baby-back pork ribs
- ¼ cup ketchup
- ¼ cup honey
- ¼ cup brown sugar (firmly packed)
- 1 ¾ cup fresh blackberries, rinsed.
- Fresh ginger.
- 1 teaspoon pepper.
- ½ teaspoon salt.
- Fresh mint sprigs.
- 1 ½ teaspoons hot sauce.
- Blackberry sauce (recipe follows):

In a food processor, combine 1 ¼ cups blackberries, ¼ cup each of ketchup, honey, brown sugar, and minced ginger; 1 teaspoon pepper; and ½ teaspoon salt. Puree. Add 1 ½ teaspoons of hot sauce.

Pour into 1 quart glass container. Cover loosely with microwave-safe wrap. Microwave on high power for about eight minutes, or until mixture reduces to about 1 1/3 cups, stirring intermittently.


Instructions:

1. Rinse/pat dry ribs. Trim excess fat.
2. Prepare ribs until well browned (indirect grill heat best)
3. Baste 1 side of ribs with half the sauce. Turn ribs sauce side down and cook until sauce browns and forms a thick glaze (about 10 mins.) Baste top with remaining sauce and turn ribs over, cooking until sauce browns and forms a thick glaze (about 10 mins.)
4. Transfer ribs to platter and garnish with remaining blackberries and mint.

Enjoy with ice-cold beer and coleslaw.

Sorry, Indy...

So many years we await the return of the fedora and whip; and it finally comes in the form of, "Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull." Of course, I had to see it the first day of release. Being a big fan of 'Raiders of the Lost Ark,' tolerant of 'Temple of Doom,' and satisfied with the the 'Last Crusade,' I thank Lucas and Spielberg for bringing back the franchise. But, I have questions and concerns, and, since Steven won't take my calls, I will ask them of other fans:
1. Where is Sallah? The old side-kick was conspicuously missing and no reference to his whereabouts offered.
2. If Indy drank from the Holy Grail -- the Cup of Life -- at the end of 'Last Crusade,' why has he aged so? And how could Henry Jones, Sr. -- his father, James Bond -- have died so soon after partaking from the chalice himself?
3. The Crystal Skull -- the so-called MacGuffin of the film -- is not sought out through mysteries, legends, and excavation, but is found in the first scene and then pursued.
4. How does Indy survive an atomic blast by being violently thrown in a lead-lined refrigerator and then bask in the glow of the mushroom cloud without losing his hair and teeth?
Of course, the film brought back old friends and was entertaining though barely believable. However, this fan expected more, especially for the time it took. I knew I should worry when David Koepp was brought on board to pen it, What happened to Lawrence Kasdan (screenwriter of 'Raiders of the Lost Ark)? And, damn it, can't anyone build a set anymore?! As good as these guys think digital is, it's just not the same.