(The following review has more than one spoiler, so if you haven’t finished or even begun reading The Wolves of Midwinter but are planning on it, please don’t read this till you do. Sorry I have to spoil some things, but I can’t do the novel justice in this review without mentioning one or two very important plot points. I’ll try and keep the number of mentions down though.)
This’ll be last review for a while, so I wanted it to be special, and I can’t think of anything more special to review than Anne Rice’s latest novel. Some of you may remember my review last summer of Ms. Rice’s The Wolf Gift. I’m sorry to say that I won’t be using food metaphors this time around, not just because it’s been a couple hours since my last meal, but also because I found it a little ridiculous, looking back, that I was the reviewer who used food metaphors.
Now on with the review.
Anne Rice has a talent for crafting truly extraordinary stories. In another author’s hands, they might seem mundane or boring, but with her hands she’s able to craft a engrossing novel that keeps you reading the story long after you should go to bed. The Wolves of Midwinter is no exception. In this volume of The Wolf Gift Chronicles, protagonist Reuben Golding has some unexpected developments in his life, including the visit of the ghost of a friend of his. This sets the stage for further developments in Reuben’s life as a Man Wolf, as his fellow Morphenkinder Margon and Felix introduce him, fellow pack member Stuart and Reuben’s lover Laura to some more aspects of their strange, immortal world. At the same time, Reuben deals with the changing dynamics of his family as changes in his life and in the lives of his loved ones occur and as his own immortality becomes more apparent to him, sometimes rather painfully.
What do you brood about tonight, dear Morphenkind?
What is most magnificent about The Wolves of Midwinter is that the novel is always engaging even without a central antagonist or conflict to drive the story forward. Sure, there is a dangerous pack of Morphenkinder with some very dark plans for Reuben and his pack, but they are not essential to the plot that without them there would be no story. Indeed, reading the novel you get the sense that you’re reading about several chains of events closely linked to one another like crisscrossing lines of dominoes, and that the dominoes are just falling to their inevitable conclusions in the book you are reading in your hands. I marvel and kind of envy how the novel was written that way (I wish I could write a story like that. I wonder how Ms. Rice learned how to do it?).
The only part of the novel that I didn’t care for was when Reuben gets a little surprise gift a few months before Christmas, he seems to accept the implications rather quickly and give into the demands his family puts on him without much of an argument. I would’ve rather seen a more in-depth exploration of how he reacted to this surprise gift (not to mention how Laura takes it), but the rest of the novel moved along very well, so that was the only complaint I really had. And when you compare it to the rest of the book, it seems a little bit trivial.
My favorite portion of The Wolves of Midwinter was the last hundred or so pages, starting with some terrifying and unexpected events at a Morphenkind Yuletide celebration, followed by some tribulations in the life of Reuben’s brother Jim, and ending in a joyous celebration at the end of the Christmas season that almost makes you want to cry but instead makes you marvel at how masterfully crafted the ending of the story is.
For The Wolves of Midwinter, I’m giving it a 4.4 out of 5. The storytelling and language, the plot, the characters and how they deal with events as they (sometimes literally) hit them, made this a truly enjoyable read. I hope to read more of Reuben’s story in a future volume of The Wolf Gift Chronicles. Either that or another novel in the Songs of the Seraphim series, I love those books.
Oh and speaking of which, congratulations to Ms. Rice for her Song of the Seraphim novel Angel Time getting made into a TV show like Stephen King’s Under the Dome was this past summer. No word yet on when that’ll be happening, but I can already see it in my head and I bet it’s going to be great. I’m kind of seeing Christopher Eccleston as Toby O’Dare and Mehki Phifer or Omar Epps in the role of Malchiah. Don’t know if that’ll actually happen, but I definitely wouldn’t mind if it did..
I’ve decided to post excerpts of my published work on separate pages. From now on, readers can click on any of the pages for the books I have out and read excerpts from the final drafts of each novel/short story collection. So if you’re interested in getting a sneak peek at The Quiet Game, Reborn City or Snake, you can scroll above, click on any of the pages for those works, and find a link to an excerpt.
I hope you get a chance to take a look at them. Each excerpt is carefully selected to give you an idea of what you might be reading should you decide you might want to purchase a hard copy of my published work (or e-copy, as it is these days).
I’m signing off now, but I want to let you know at some point during the week, besides more countdown posts for Reborn City and the usual Weekly Exercise, I also plan to write a reflection piece or two on themes in writing and perhaps a special Halloween post. Oh, and my last review till the Doctor Who 50th anniversary special.
Until then, have a good night everybody! See you later in the week and happy reading!
I got my homework done earlier than I’d expected today, so I’m writing up a blog post to mark up how close Reborn City is to coming out. I’m so excited! I still can’t believe it’s been over four years since I first started writing the story.
To classify RC, it’s dystopian science fiction, but it’s a different science fiction than anything we see in the market these days. Unlike The Hunger Games or Divergent, the world of the story is (at least in my opinion) close enough to this world that we don’t have to totally suspend our disbelief in order to enjoy the story. Instead of just going “Crazy events must have happened to create a state that murders its children from the districts” or “I’m sure there’s a great economic/political/cultural reason behind why Chicago is divided into factions”, I try to make the world slightly more believable. For example, racism, gang violence, and Islamaphobia are still major problems in this world, and the technology, although sometimes pretty incredible, is mostly recognizable to any citizen living in the developed world.
There are things that make the world of RC different though. For instance, buildings can change shape in the future, cars rely on vegetable extracts for food, and hoverbikes have just come into being. Not to mention that some gangsters in this novel have abilities beyond the ordinary. But most importantly, at this point the world of RC is mostly made up of city-states and small nations, and because of the Third World War, most nations and city-states are demilitarized. Now there’s something you don’t see everyday!
Well, it’ll be up to the readers whether or not this world I’ve created is more believable than the worlds of other authors. And they may let me know in any reviews that RC gets. At any rate, I’m just excited for them to read it.
If you’re interested in reading Reborn City, it’ll be available Friday, November 1st, and will be available on Amazon and Smashwords. The print paperback version will be available for $6.99, while the e-book version will be available for $2.99. And I’ll be using the Kindle Matchbook program, so that if you buy a copy of the e-book, you may be eligible for a discounted or even free copy of the print paperback version (at least I think that’s how it works). Anyway, I hope you/’re as excited as I am and I can’t wait to hear what you think when you get the chance to read it.
Yes, another review. Don’t worry, I plan to do the new Anne Rice book and then just leave it at that till the Doctor Who 50th anniversary special. On with the review!
From the beginning, promoters for the new Dracula series have been saying this won’t be your usual look at the Dracula story, and they certainly didn’t lie. In this incarnation, the Prince of Vampires is played by the darkly sexy Jonathan Rhys Meyers (I cannot believe I just wrote that, but it’s true). And guess what? Dracula’s playing roles too, this time as Alexander Grayson, an American industrialist who plans to bring free power to England using fantastic technology. Why the disguise? Because apparently he’s hunting the Order of the Dragon, a secret society that Dracula has a history with (quite literally actually: the Order of the Dragon was a real order during Vlad Tepes’ time that fought to keep Christendom in Europe safe from Turkish and Moorish invasion. Here though it’s every myth about the power of the Illuminati/Freemasons/Jews rolled into one tight British package). When not hunting members of the Order though, Dracula seems rather taken with a certain young medical student named Mina Murray, who looks a lot like Dracula’s deceased wife from 500 years ago.
While the whole my-love-has-been-reincarnated trope has been used before with the Dracula legend, it’s been done sparingly enough that there’s room for breaking new ground here, and it looks like they intend to break a lot of new ground with this Dracula story. Here Dracula’s portrayed as an antihero seeking to use a combination of traditional vampiric war and deft political maneuvers to take out his enemies, who so far are portrayed as elitists wishing to retain their power with oil and their money and influence (gosh, why does that sound familiar?). And Mina Murray and Jonathan Harker have also been updated in this version, given the roles of a sweet medical student and an aspiring reporter respectively, and Renfield’s been portrayed so far as an intelligent black gentlemen who acts as Dracula’s link to the world rather than a crazy bug eater in Bethlehem Hospital (progress in the media!).
I have returned with a sexy beard. And thank the producers I don’t glow!
The acting is very solid as well. Meyers switches accents very well, as he also does with his personality, going from charming Victorian to ruthless, tormented killer in seconds. The character of Lady Jane, played by Victoria Smurfit, is also an interesting character, because she seems to be holding more secrets than other characters. It’ll be interesting to see where her character goes in the series…if she survives! And I can’t wait to see the interplay of the Dracula-Mina-Harker love triangle that will inevitably occur (we’ve known it would happen before we even saw the previews). If it’s done as well as the first episode has been done, even things we can see coming can have quite the impact.
And for those of you who are wondering if it’s too scary to watch, it’s not that bad. And coming from a guy who doesn’t get too terrified watching Evil Dead or Carrie, that’s saying something. There’s minimal blood and the scenes where blood does show up are tolerable. Indeed, you find yourself more interested in the action, the character interaction, and wondering how this battle will play out.
I’m looking forward to seeing where this miniseries goes. The first episode sets the bar high, but if they can keep meeting the challenge…who knows? Emmys and a second season might be in the mix.
I’m giving the first episode a 4.2 out of 5. I look forward to next week’s episode. I hope it’ll be terrifying.
I didn’t get to do this with The Quiet Game (I forget why), so I’m doing it with Reborn City. Guess what:
Yes, seven days! Reborn City will be coming out November 1st in both print paperback and e-book formats. It’s been a long process, but it’s finally almost time! And I could not be more excited. Well I could be but I’m pretty sure it would involve illegal drugs, so I’ll stay at my normal levels of excitement.
You know, it’s been over four years since I first sat down and started writing Reborn City. I had an idea for a novel–possibly one with a sequel or two–on the way home from the library while listening to a CD with a lot of rap and rock music. I stopped by a Dairy Queen for a treat and started thinking about how to develop this idea, which had street gangs at the center of it and a sci-fi twist. Then at my sister’s birthday, after the cake and presents had been put away, I started writing some notes down in a journal. Then I started researching, and typing a manuscript, and then after many breaks and a lot of painstaking work over the course of two years, I finished the manuscript. Another year and a third of editing, eight months spent emailing chapters to my dear friend Matt Williams and making more adjustment based on his suggestions and the final copy was done. Finally I created a cover on CreateSpace (which you can see above) and I sent it all off to the copyright office.
A few months pass by, a book trailer comes out, and now we’re finally at the end of this long journey. I’m hoping for wonderful things to happen with this book. I’ve poured a lot of blood, sweat, and tears into RC, and I hope people really like reading it. It’s not as scary as some of my other work, so that may appeal to less fear-loving readers. And it’s sci-fi dystopian fiction, so considering today’s market that’s good to have.
But there’s more to it than that. The novel tackles some powerful themes, like racism and Islamaphobia, drugs and gang violence, and a number of other issues. And I’m hoping its those themes that will resonate with readers and help them fall in love with characters, rather than some dashing heroine and a couple of good-looking guys rebelling against a government that’s pure evil (how many franchises did I just describe there? I think I got Twilight in there too).
So without further ado, I’m going to give you guys a treat in honor of RC coming out. The first treat is the RC book trailer, which is right underneath the next paragraph. Immediately following the video is an excerpt from Chapter One of RC, for all your reading pleasure. I hope you like the video and the excerpt and that you’ll be interested in reading the actual book afterwards.
Also, if you haven’t already read them, please see my interviews with Zahara Bakur, Rip, and Jason Price, three very important characters from Reborn City. They’re very amazing people…though two of them did threaten to kill me for various reasons.
Reborn City, former Nevada
28 Anno Bombus (2056 CE)
June 28
Zahara and her family had decided to eat out at a restaurant in North Reborn that served kosher meat, the closest they could get to halāl. “I know it’s for Jews mostly, but it’s a very nice place and the Jews were very nice to us in New York.” Zahara’s father, Emir Bakur had said when he’d suggested it. “They know they don’t have to fear Muslims anymore. And the Chaplinsky family in 4F was nice enough, right?”
However Emir had taken a wrong turn on the still-unfamiliar streets and highways and they had somehow ended up in West Reborn. The sight of the place gave Zahara chills, and it just wasn’t the reports of gang violence: the area had a grittiness that Zahara didn’t like. The cold brown houses, the rusty lamp poles, the cracked, light-grey concrete. West Reborn looked unkempt, uncared for, like the city had kept up the other areas of the city but had forgotten about this one. The only buildings that looked in any good condition were casinos, bars, and strip clubs, displaying three-dimensional holograms of cash prizes and sexy women drinking beer while looking at passerby with bedroom eyes. The sight of them disgusted Zahara.
In the front of the car Emir and Aaliyah were arguing, trying to figure out how to get back to where they were going. Zahara closed her eyes and tried to let the music from her filepiece filter into her right ear. Surrendering to the small device, she wondered if she’d ever get out of this city and get back to New York where she belonged. Somehow, Zahara had a feeling she would never come to like Reborn City, no matter how much she lived here.
After a few more minutes of her parents arguing about which direction, Zahara opened her eyes again, prepared to tell them they should just check their phones for the directions. Her eyes widened as she saw an arm swing up from the sidewalk and throw a rock at the windshield. The glass cracked as the rock rebounded off the windshield and into the road. Aaliyah and Zahara screamed as Emir braked the car and jerked at the steering wheel. The car skidded to a screeching halt, the nose pointing towards the middle of the road.
Zahara saw her father unbuckle his seatbelt and before she could stop him, stepping out to inspect the damage. “What in the name of Allah—?” he said, but stopped as he heard the click of a jackknife being opened. He turned around and saw two men, one of whom was holding a long, deadly-looking blade. Leaning forward in her seat, Zahara could make out the details of the two men: both of the men had a ruddy tan complexion, were wearing green clothes, and had looks on their faces that said they did not like making new friends. On the neck of one Zahara could make out what looked like a tattoo of a pitchfork with a sombrero hung over the right prong.
One of them, who was large and muscular, spoke to Zahara’s father. “Hand over yo’ fuckin’ money an’ yo fuckin’ car.” he said with a Spanish accent. “Ya got that?”
“Sure!” said Zahara’s father, holding his hands up defensively, looking so unlike the corporate lawyer he was. “Just take it easy, okay? Just take it easy—!”
“Hurry the fuck up!” said the other man. “Who ya think yo messin’ with, estupido?” This man was thin and gangly and had a strange leer on his face, like he would rather punch Emir than talk to him.
“Okay, okay!” said Emir, backing back up to the door and turning off the engine. Zahara’s mother Aaliyah saw this and as her husband stood back up out of the car, unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the car door.
“Mother!” said Zahara in English. Aaliyah looked behind her to where her daughter was sitting on the edge of her seat, fists balled in her lap, chewing her lower lip. “Don’t go out there!” Zahara hissed; Zahara rarely used English with her parents and she was only using it now because she didn’t know if these two men in green were fans of Muslims or not. Either way, it was not a good time to find out.
Zahara’s mother looked at her daughter as if she’d gone mad. “I don’t have a choice, Zahara.” she said in Arabic, pushing a loose lock of hair back under her hijab. “Our car is being stolen.” She opened her door and slid out of the seat. Zahara watched with disbelief as her mother closed the car door. Did her mother think things would go peacefully?
Suddenly the skinny gangster stared at Zahara’s mother and pointed at her hijab. “Hey Manny!” said the skinny gangster. “Check out the headscarf. Musulmàns!”
The fat gangster, Manny, stared at Zahara’s mother, then turned back to Emir, his expression livid. “So, you thought you’d get the jump on us, huh?” he said, thrusting the knife at Zahara’s father. “Fuckin’ terrorist! Let us jack ya car an’ explode us too?”
Zahara winced. Fuckin’ terrorist. She had been right, these two men hated Muslims.
“No, that’s not it at all!” said Emir, looking terrified as the skinny gangster pulled out a gun. “Please, you have to believe me—!”
“Shaddup!” yelled Manny, stabbing Emir in the belly. Emir went rigid as the knife plunged into his belly, then collapsed as Manny pulled the blade out. Blood poured out of Zahara’s father, pooling around him in a big red circle.
Aaliyah screamed in horror, staring at her husband as tears flooded down her cheeks. “Emir!” she cried. “Emir—!”
The skinny gangster pulled out his gun and shot Aaliyah in the forehead; her eyes rolled into the back of her head as Zahara’s mother fell lifeless to the ground. Zahara gasped, trying to keep her tears and screams inside herself. If the gangsters saw her they’d kill her too. And maybe…just because she was a teenager and a girl…they’d do other stuff to her, too. Zahara shuddered to think of what they’d do to her if they did that too.
Manny was kicking Emir’s lifeless body casually, making sure he was dead. “Think they’d play us, did they?” he said to his companion. “Fuckin’ terrorists.”
“Yeah, well they’re shittin’ in hell now.” said the skinny gangster. “Shows what happens when ya mess with Diablos.”
“Yeah.” said Manny, looking up from Emir’s body. “Come on, let’s go—wait a minute.” Manny’s piggy little eyes fixed on Zahara in the backseat of her parent’s car. Zahara squeaked as Manny took two steps towards her. “Yo, Che. Come check this out.” Manny called to his friend, followed by something in Spanish. Zahara nearly froze up as she realized she’d been discovered.
Quickly Zahara unbuckled her seatbelt, threw open the car door and ran, throwing her filepiece as a distraction. Manny and Che jumped back as the filepiece hit the ground, probably thinking it was a grenade or something. By the time they realized their mistake, Zahara already had a head start on them. They set off after her, angrily yelling in Spanish at her. Zahara turned around, saw them catching up, and ran faster, determined to get away.
As Zahara ran, bumping into people and flying past holograms, she began to cry; her parents were dead, she was miles away from any familiar place and with no familiar people to help her. The heartache she was feeling was so intense that she could just keel over and die, but she wouldn’t die here, and she would not let herself be caught by the gangsters chasing after her. She’d get out of West Reborn, find the house (she still hadn’t thought of it as “home” yet), and then she’d call New York and get help. Or maybe kill herself. Either way, she had to get out.
The gangsters were only a few feet behind her. But a few blocks ahead there was a police station. Maybe, if she was able to get there, she’d be safe. She could tell the police what was going on, they’d arrest her parents’ murderers, and then she could go back to New York—
Suddenly Zahara tripped on a shifted slab of concrete and fell. Thrusting her hands out in front of her, Zahara cried out as she scraped her hands and knees. She tried to stand up again but then someone grabbed her shirt from behind and yanked her up. Zahara stared into the faces of Manny and Che, the Hispanic gangsters who had murdered her parents. Che grabbed Zahara’s arms and twisted them into a painful armlock.
“Hello, Little Miss Terrorist.” said Manny. “Thought ya could get away so easily. Thought the po-po would help ya out. Wrong!”
Both of them laughed cruelly, and Manny brought out his knife, holding it close to Zahara’s jugular. The blade gleamed with the blood of Zahara’s father still fresh on it. Che and Manny laughed harder at the expression on Zahara’s face. “The po-po are just pussies.” said Che. “Fuckin’ pussies. They couldn’t catch us an’ throw us in the clink, an’ they would never help a fuckin’ Musalmàn. Besides, even if they would, them assholes can’t see us. It’s dark out, ya know.”
Manny pressed his face close to Zahara’s, grinning wickedly. The foul smell of his breath wafted over Zahara’s face, making her want to puke. “And the nearest streetlamp is right ovuh there.” he added, cocking his head in the direction of the lonely streetlamp.
With a great effort Zahara twisted her head away from the knife. “Somebody help me!” she screamed.
“No one’s gonna fuckin’ come to your rescue, Little Miss Terrorist.” said Manny, pressing the blade to Zahara’s neck; a little bit of Zahara’s blood trickled onto the knife, mixing with Emir’s. Zahara whimpered as Manny pressed his face even closer than before, so close she could see the pupils in his beady eyes. Behind her Zahara could feel Che’s hot breath on the nape of her neck.
Suddenly Manny’s free hand swooped down and grabbed the button on Zahara’s pants, undoing it in an instant. His hand reached into her pants and began feeling around.
“No, please.” said Zahara, tears spilling from the corner of her eyes. “Please don’t do this—!”
“Shaddup!” said Manny, looking up from what he was doing; Zahara felt the blade of the knife dig a little deeper into her neck. “Ya shaddup an’ try ta enjoy it. Maybe aftowards we’ll let ya kill yoself, got it? But no bombs; ya might hurt someone.”
Che giggled as Manny worked Zahara’s pants off, exposing her white underwear. As he did Zahara felt the fight go out of her. She was going to die and painfully too and at the hands of her parents’ murderers. She’d never see her friends again, she’d never see her parents again, and like the two men had said, no one was going to help her—
“What ya mothas doin’?” said a voice. Zahara looked away from Manny as a figure dressed in a black hoodie and jeans stepped into the lamplight. Manny paused and then stood up, pulling the knife away from Zahara’s neck.
As he did Zahara felt her energy disappear. Black edged into her field of vision as Zahara strained to discern the face of the newcomer. But the darkness took her and Zahara couldn’t see his face. The last thing Zahara thought before she fainted was that she would’ve liked to see the face of her potential rescuer.
That, and how embarrassed she was that her pants were lying uselessly around her ankles.
It may break some hearts, but I’m taking a break from writing. And believe me, I don’t want to. I’d rather be sitting on the couch writing short stories, novels, articles, and blog posts, celebrating afterwards with whatever book or TV on DVD I have at hand at the moment.
Just a couple problems. One is that I’m a full-time student with five classes all assigning a ton of homework at the same time. I hate it, but I have to attend class and get my homework done on time. And that’s time consuming. Plus I work about ten to twelve hours a week, and I have responsibilities as resident manager of my building, and I have a ton of reading that’s piled up so I want to get through it before it’s all due back at the library and–somebody stop me!
In any case, I have too much to do to write my fiction regularly. So for the time being, I’ll be restricting my non-school writing activities to some light editing, the occasional blog post, and Weekly Exercises. Yes, I know it’s terrible. I know you want to cry. But dry your tears, it’s only temporary. I’ll probably be free to write again soon. And Reborn City is coming out soon, so there’s no reason to fret. There, all better right?
Honestly, I have no idea who I’m comforting. I’m just trying to see if I can make someone laugh.
Well, until the next post (whenever that may be), have a good evening folks.
It’s time once again for my Weekly Exercises. These flash fiction pieces are my chance to practice my craft. They also act as sounding boards for readers to comment on how I’m doing, and they’re my shameless plug to get people interested in my published work.
This one’s a special one, since it’s number 10. Ten weeks in a row, plugging these things out. It’s been quite fun writing them and I’m constantly looking for new ideas for an exercise (and if you have one let me know. I may just write an exercise based on a suggestion, and you’ll get a mention). For this week’s exercise, I decided to do something a little special. I wrote a piece about an obsessed fan, but I changed a few things around for this piece. It’s always nice to try something original.
If you have any thoughts, please let me know. I love getting feedback from readers, which is partly what the Weekly Exercises are for. Also, if you want to take a look at any other exercises, you can check out the Weekly Exercises page.
Enjoy!
~~~
Katie loved the books of Emma Davies, stories of love and swashbuckling adventure on the high seas. She had probably read the Vivian Carpenter books a dozen times, cried each of the five times she’d read The Admiral’s Daughter, and when Davies’ latest book, Shanghai Bride, had come out, Katie had stayed up for two days straight reading it, pouring over the text, imagining the characters in her mind, gushing over each and every word in the book.
And sometimes, when she was alone at her apartment or at work or those rare opportunities when she was the only rider on the bus, she would kiss Emma Davies’ photo on the back of her paperbacks, kiss it like she’d never kissed anyone before. She loved the woman, blue eyes and blonde hair with pink highlights. Emma Davies loved Katie too, she knew it. Every book had been written for her, coded as a fun adventure story as well as a romance-filled love letter to Katie. Oh, when would Katie and Emma Davies be united at last? She couldn’t stand the wait!
So Katie packed up her bags and drove out to New Hampshire, where Emma Davies was supposed to live. It took some time, but Katie tracked Emma down to a lovely Victorian mansion in Concord with a brick wall encircling it. Oh, Katie wanted their wedding here! She climbed over the wall, tiptoed through the lawn to the back and was trying to unlock the back door when she felt a sharp pain on the top of her head and passed out.
When she woke up, her head hurt, she was in a dark room with only a single light bulb and no windows. Emma Davies stood before her, wearing a white silk kimono and frowning angrily. Overjoyed to be finally united with her, Katie tried to get up and hug her, but found she had been tied with chains and had a gag in her mouth. She tried to shout through the gag to Emma, but the beautiful woman only scoffed.
“Did you think that I would be happy to find you on my lawn?” she said, shaking her head. “I mean, I get how popular I am with my fans. I’ve hugged crying women more times than I can count at book signings and in the supermarket and while getting my hair done at Aveda. But honestly, if you’re going to sneak onto private property, you should know there are some consequences. So what do you have to say for yourself?”
Emma removed the gag. Katie sucked in a lungful of air. “Emma, I love you!” she cried, tears falling down her face. “Why are you doing this to me?”
“Oh, I love you too.” said Emma, kissing Katie’s forehead. “I love all my fans very dearly. But the ones who go the extra mile and think their love trumps my personal space must be punished when they step out of line.”
“What do you mean?” asked Katie, but as she spoke Emma picked up a chainsaw from the corner. Seeing it, she realized what was happening. She screamed.
“Oh, don’t scream.” said Emma, pulling the chainsaw’s cord. “It’ll be quick. And besides, you’ll be remembered. Once this kimono’s soaked up your blood, I’ll frame it in my office. I tell people the bloody kimonos I collect once belonged to a little-known pirate who was a terrible sadist. It’s a hoot how they buy it up. And yours make six. One for every book I’ve written! How exciting.”
Ever since I heard that this film was being made, I’ve been excited for it. Over the past few days, my behavior has been pretty close to that of a Belieber right before a Justin Beiber concert, I’ve been so excited. And this evening I went to the movies after dinner and sat in the best seat in the house. Afterwards, I struggled to find a phrase or a sentence, some way to describe the Carrie remake. I hit on it on the way home:
This is not like any version of Carrie you’ve ever seen before.
And I mean that. The storytelling, the acting, the music, and the special effects go together perfectly to create an awesome Halloween movie. Even when I knew something was going to happen, from plot points to scares, I was totally freaked out.
I’ll start with the acting, because that was just phenomenal. It’s amazing to watch Carrie White, played by Chloe Grace Moretz, go from a shy, terrified girl to someone who’s starting to come into her own power and rebel. Then at the climax of the movie, she doesn’t just become an angry telekinetic girl. She becomes Nemesis, Goddess of Revenge, and an angry witch upon her dais emerges to reap what has been sown. Afterwards, broken by all the pain and misery, she become a little girl again, wanting only love. And when she can’t get that, she looks for peace.
Julianne Moore was also great. You sensed she cared for Carrie, but the way she played Margaret White as a delusional woman with vacant eyes and a propensity for self-flagellation even in public was positively spooky. Honestly, she could win an award for playing Margaret and putting the “mental” in fundamentalist. In addition, all the other actors were great in their roles. I truly got the sense that Sue Snell, played by Gabriella Wilde, made me feel her remorse as the one girl who regretted hurting Carrie, while Portia Doubleday embodied the entitled bitch that was Chris Hargensen. And Judy Greer, you get a nod for really seeming like you cared for Carrie, comforting her while also making sure that no one would hurt her further. I can see why Carrie left your character alive. You made us believe she deserved not to die.
The next aspect was the storytelling. In this version of Carrie they actually included parts not seen in other adaptations of Carrie, including the love between Sue and Tommy Ross and what that love results in, the destruction of the town, and even the flying rocks make an appearance in the story (though not in the way we might expect). The filmmakers were also able to work the Information Age seamlessly into the plot, using a video of Carrie’s first period to the greatest effect. The only thing added in that I didn’t care for was the bath scene at the end. Honestly, there’s no bath scene in the book, and we already get Carrie covered in blood in the shower. Why do we need it again in the bathtub?
You don’t want to mess with this Carrie!
Now for the music, it was terrifying and vivid. It matched every moment and I felt it adding to my terror during certain parts of the film. And the special effects were better than everything we’ve ever seen in a Carrie adaptation. The destruction at prom had everyone in the theater on the edge of their seats and the showdown between Chris Hargensen, Billy Nolan, and Carrie is like watching Titans battling each other! I couldn’t believe any of it was done with computers or wires, because it all seemed so real and terrifying to me. The only thing I didn’t like was the blood that fell on Carrie’s head. I thought it looked more like corn syrup or Jell-O that hadn’t yet solidified than blood, but maybe that’s just me.
Am I using the word terrifying too much?
This lady deserves the Award for Best Supporting Actress.
Doesn’t matter. Honestly, I want to buy the DVD when it comes out, because this was one freaking epic horror film and I loved every minute of it. For the 2013 adaptation of Carrie, I give it a 5 out of 5. Congratulations to the cast, the crew, including director Kimberly Pierce, and a special congratulations Stephen King, Chloe Grace Moretz, and Julianne Moore. King made a wonderful story that will last long after he has left the Earth (hopefully that won’t happen anytime soon) and I think Moretz and Moore could easily win Oscars for this one. It’s just that good, so go and see it if you get the chance. You will not regret it.
Today I do the last character interview before Reborn City comes out in two weeks. And today I’m interviewing Jason Price, CEO of the Parthenon Company and the main antagonist of the novel. Price is one of those characters that is full of himself and full of hate and power. He’s a dangerous character, and I would not want to get on his bad side.
If you would like to read my other character interviews with Zahara Bakur and Rip, click on the links.
Now here’s Jason Price:
Notes and Stats:
Sex: male Age: 65 Race/Ethnicity: African-American Birthday: December 12th Eye color: Brown Hair color: White (originally black) Religion: atheist Affiliation: Parthenon Company Special Powers/Abilities: Went to the University of Michigan as an undergraduate before earning a degree in biochemistry. Later joined the United States Army as a lieutenant before being honorably discharged and joining the Parthenon Company. Later became a member of Parthenon’s board and then its CEO. Notes from the Author: I based Jason Price on Samuel L. Jackson visually, but his character is based on a number of different villains. He’s a war-monger, a corporate executive with no conscience, a racist, and he’s just plain nasty. For a man of his age he’s still incredibly fit, his mental acuity is undiminished, his vision is unshakeable and he’s very dangerous to mess with. Go against him at your own risk.
RU: Mr. Pirce, it’s a pleasure to meet you.
Price: Where the hell am I?
RU: That’s not important. Mr. Price, I know you are the head of Parthenon Company. Could you tell me a little bit about what your company does?
Price: Parthenon is an entertainment corporation that also leads several cities whose main business is entertainment, such as Reborn City, Seattle, and Marvolo, the new adventure hotspot for families and adults. Our corporation is based in Reborn City and we’re also currently expanding our enterprises into virtual reality video games, as well as travel, new forms of music, and–
RU: Enough with the salesman’s pitch. Didn’t Parthenon used to be a weapons developer and supplier for the military?
Price: True, but after the Third World War we became an entertainment corporation. We started with Reborn City, and through trial and error we’ve become one of the biggest suppliers of fun on the North American continent and in the world.
RU: So you guys aren’t working on anything military? Nothing that might involve the Hydras in West Reborn?
Price: How’d you know about that?
RU: I’m clever that way. So you don’t deny the Hydras and Parthenon are linked?
Price: Look kid, I don’t know who you are or how you know about our involvement with the Hydras, but if you poke a dragon, prepare to get roasted.
RU: Sounds tasty. Now tell me, why would an entertainment compnany that’s supposedly left the weapons industry still be working on weapons projects, especially projects that might still be considered illegal by other city and nation-states?
Price: Oh, don’t get into the legal crap with me, boy! It’s only a matter of time before some Adolf Hitler or Osama bin Laden comes along with plans to destroy the free world. And guess who’s going to be supplying the weapons when that person does show up?
RU: Okay, better safe than sorry. I get it. By the way, can I get a tour of the Facility underneath Parthenon World Headquarters?
Price: You know too much.
RU: Yikes! That’s a gun! He’s pointing a gun at my head! Okay, time to cut the interview short! Join me next week when I give you readers a preview of the first chapter of Reborn City itself…that is if I survive till next week! Help me!
Last night a review for The Quiet Game: Five Tales To Chill Your Bones appeared on Amazon. This was a very nice 4-star review, keeping the average on Amazon a 4 out of 5. And it was written by my dear old father, affectionately called Abba. Here’s what my dad had to say:
This is not my genre, but since I know the author [:-)], I read the stories. Each one was very unique and created its own atmosphere and mood. My favorite story was the Quiet Game but I found the ending a little confusing since I didn’t really know the literary reference at the end; what I loved was the world created in the story and the message it conveyed. I look forward to the author’s improving his craft, and I will certainly read more.
Well Abba, since you didn’t know the reference, let me tell you that Puck is a fairy or spirit from English folklore who’s considered a very nasty trickster. Don’t cross him if you ever meet him, because he’s just as likely to give you a winning lottery ticket as he is to give you an atomic wedgie. And I’d rather not see that on Facebook.
Also, thanks for uploading that review. It means a lot to me, and there’s good news. Since Reborn City is coming out soon, you can look forward to me hounding you to read that in two weeks’ time! Yay more fiction from your son to read out of obligation as a father! I’m kidding, I bet you can’t wait to read it.
I’m always happy to hear from readers, so whether you liked The Quiet Game or hated it, I don’t mind hearing from you about it. And if you’re interested in reading The Quiet Game; Five Tales To Chill Your Bones, you can read it on Amazon and Smashwords. Have a lovely day.
Rami Ungar The Writer 