Reading List-II

OK, the last one really helped, so here's another. I've got a whole mess of books waiting to be read, so this is going to be an aid sorting them out. For immediate attention, I have four, in the order I'm planning to read them:

Patient Zero by Jonathan Maberry--Zombie terrorists. Nuff said.

Horns by Joe Hill--A guy wakes up from a night of drinking to find he's grown horns. (Really. That's all I need to hear--SOLD. Oh and it's written by Stephen King's son.)

Swan Song by Robert McCammon--Post-apocalyptic novel reminiscent of The Stand. I've heard a few things about this one.

They Thirst by Robert McCammon--Vampire horror based in LA.

After these, I have the Farseers Trilogy by Robin Hobb waiting to be finished (about 20% into Book 2). I've also begun River Of Gods and I'll definitely have to finish that eventually--Ian McDonald is my favorite science fiction author, period. Give him a try and you'll see why. I really need to get The Shining by Stephen King out of the way, too. Seen the movie a few times (incredible) and also the miniseries, and it's high time I find out how the book compares. And then there's the host of other Dark Tower-related novels I have to get to--Insomnia, etc. etc. But I suspect I'll be reading The Talisman and its sequel, Black House (written by Stephen King and Peter Straub) before I get around to those.

So. As you can see. Lots on my plate. But it's always helpful getting my thoughts down onto the screen.

Hope you have your nose buried in a book, too! Happy reading.

Reading List

For my own sanity. It's going to help in two ways--guard against the temptation to begin reading something else while in the middle of the excellent A Game Of Thrones, and secondly, help me not to forget. Lol.

Just finished The Langoliers, a King novella that left me hungry for more. Namely, The Mist (seen the movie, always wanted to read the story). And, just to confuse things, I'll be watching the miniseries of The Langoliers pretty soon--entire thing's up on YouTube.

BUT.

This is what happened the last three or four times I tried to get into A Game Of Thrones, so I'm going to guard against it this time. I. Will. NOT. Quit.

So here goes--my reading list.

1. Finish A Game Of Thrones. This is a sharp, interesting, cleverly-written tale by a man who deserves his title at the forefront of modern fantasy. No small surprise it's made me renew my commitment to finishing my own fantasy novel (unnamed as of yet, sorry to disappoint). I vowed to finish the book this time, and it will be so. Er. A Game Of Thrones, that is, not my novel. Lol. But the latter would be nice, too.

2. The Mist. I'll treat this novella as a sort of breather before I launch into another book. Saw, and LOVED the film. It is perhaps the best adaptation of a Stephen King work (with all due respect to The Green Mile). I know the ending of the story differs, and I'm eager to see just how.

From a purely academic standpoint, I always enjoy trying to see just how written works change when they are adapted for the screen. This time it'll be the other way round, but it won't be any less interesting.

3. Andromeda Strain. In recognizing my addiction for post-apocalyptic tales, I can't wait to begin this one. Ideally, I'd want to begin it in three days, but that would mean a lot of reading and as of now, is highly doubtful. It's not a long read, thankfully--just 327 pages, so that should mean I'll be back to--

4. A Clash Of Kings, volume 2 of George R. R. Martin's A Song Of Fire And Ice series (sequel to A Game Of Thrones), in no time.

Phew. That felt good. @Thesleepingwolf from Twitter's right. It helps to have a reading list. :-)

Rereads. Shudder...Right? Maybe Not:

I’m not a reread sorta guy. I have several books stockpiled that I have yet to begin--multitudes of new worlds to delve into, characters to befriend, prose to savor, dialog to enjoy. Life’s too short for rereads, in short.

Speaking of stuff to do before you’re dead, see if you can figure out the pattern to the books listed below, I’m sure it won’t be too much of a hassle.

Anyway, to every rule, there are exceptions. Here are mine.

1. The Stand by Stephen King—This book is unforgettable, and it’s a foregone conclusion that I WILL reread it, someday.

What impressed me: The grandiose scope of the whole thing. I’ll always give authors extra points for undertaking a work of epic proportions, because I know, as a beginner, how difficult it is to write about things on a large scale. As far as large scales go, they don’t get much bigger than the end of the world (a case could actually be made for galactic sagas being easier to write than a post-apocalyptic novel like The Stand). Characterization, but oddly enough, it isn’t one of the main characters that comes to mind but a bits-and-pieces side character that doesn’t appear for more than fifty or sixty pages—The Kid. Anything I said about him would only spoil it—it’s an experience you have to have for yourself. The strongest books have strong villains, and it’s hard to get a better villain than the charismatic Randall Flagg. From the moment he steps on to the page (or off it, as is the case with his levitation trick), he captivated me and stole every scene he was in. Parts where other characters were merely talking about him had a menacing feeling to them. As a teaser—the world according to Stephen King ends with a ‘superflu’ that wipes out 99.9% of the Earth’s population, and the survivors in America find themselves haunted by dreams of a shadowy man, the Walkin’ Dude, as he is called, who sets up his base in Vegas (where else—City of Sin, right?) while others dream of an old black lady who speaks to God and gathers an army of her own in Boulder, Colorado, and it is up to these survivors to decide where to make their Stand…

If everyone felt about reading as I do (I do not care how long a book is, just that it is good), I would recommend this one, but I can understand why many would be put off by its thousand-page length. It’s not to be missed, however—there’s a reason this book is a staple in the Greatest Novels of All Time lists…

2. The Frankenstein series by Dean Koontz—I do not shut up about these books, and for good reason—if I was to develop the idea I’m most proud of into a novel-length manuscript, the result would look very much like this.

What impressed me: Dean Koontz has a writing style all his own, and I could go on for pages about this man, but I’ll try to keep it short. His earlier novels are just that—novels, just like anybody else’s, but his latter work is so drastically different from his earlier stuff that I challenge you to find someone who, when shown excerpts of The Face Of Fear (1977) and Life Expectancy (2004) along with work by some other writers, would be able to identify the above two pieces as written by the same author. His work has humor, more so than other writers I’ve read, and it is always intelligent, and never overdone, like in a parody fashion. His dialogue is to be savored. I will admit it’s unrealistic—very few people talk like that, but I gladly overlook that for the enjoyment it gives me. And of course, great characters, which I’ll mention in the synopsis. Victor Frankenstein is alive, living under the guise of the multi-billionaire Victor Helios, over two-hundred years old and in present-day New Orleans where he is secretly creating a New Race to overthrow humanity…Meanwhile, the monster he created years ago is alive as well, and stalks the streets of the city seeking a way to overthrow the creator he is unable to face directly…

Fantastic, fast-paced, humorous, thought-provoking stuff, as most Dean Koontz’s work is. If you are able to get through the first book in the series (four books out, two to go) and not want to continue reading, you and I differ very much.

3. The Strain by Guillermo del Toro and Chuck Hogan—The best vampire fiction I’ve ever read.

What impressed me: This was one of the most intelligently-written books I’ve ever read. It reads like a good techno thriller, yet retains all the good chills you expect from a horror novel. I’ll be honest—the characters aren’t memorable at all. Except for the master vampire, and the less said about him, the better. The dialogue isn’t anything special either. What is spectacular are the vampires themselves, how the authors have completely reinvented them, and the situation of the book itself. What if a master vampire got loose in a crowded city, say New York? How fast would it spread, how long would it take before everyone was turned? I find it fascinating to think about, and the book addresses it brilliantly. The opening is nothing short of spectacular—I have this morbid fascination with accidents to do with aircraft, especially commercial airliners (despite the fact that I fly a lot), and the tale opens in such a manner. This book was the first of a trilogy, and you can be sure I’m eagerly awaiting the next two installments.

(Side note: Another excellent book with regards to airplane crashes is Dean Koontz’s Sole Survivor, one of the better thrillers I’ve read. Highly recommended.)

Figured out the pattern yet? Five out of six books on the list are pretty short—around 300 pages, with the Stand at 1141 pages in paperback being the exception, so arguably that’s a pattern. One could make the case for the fact that I want to read these books because they are short and shouldn’t take that long to read. The thing that ties these books together for me, though, is the fact that they all are post-apocalyptic novels at various stages—The Stand is after the fact while the first four books of the Frankenstein series and The Strain deal with the stuff that happens before the world as we know it ends.

Oddly enough, I never knew that about myself, that I had a thing for post-apocalyptic fiction. Not until writing this blog post, at least. Hm. Guess I might have to give Matheson’s I Am Legend a go, then.

BOOKS and Olives

Got my license six days ago, so I’ve been taking every excuse to drive (naturally) and inventing excuses where there are none.

Anyway, today I remembered this tiny store I’ve seen downtown in passing. It’s just called “Books”. Now if you know me, you know that’s all I need to get me interested.

BINGO. Driving excuse for the day.

Also olives.

It all started when I found this paper towel near the stove with shiny black splotches on it. It looked like ten or twelve squished bugs till I picked it up. Looked closer. Olives. What’s worse, black olives. (Every olive aficionado knows black comes above green in the grand olive hierarchy. And we continue to search for the fabled WHITE olive, believed in many cultures to be the actual food of the gods. Search on, Olive-brethren.) I pull out my phone at once and text Tyler, who is my only roommate this week as Jake’s in Florida and Matt moved out over a month ago. My heart saddened, I toss the rejected olives into the trash.

I text him: “You picked out the olives? Weak sauce, dude.”

“Feel free to have them, lol.”

“Lol. Yeah, no. I think I’ll pass.”

“Your loss.”

“Truly. Weeping on the inside.”

I got to my computer. Tweeted, “Who picks out the olives? I mean, who does that? Seriously. *looks disgusted*”. I had to let my pain be known.

One of my good friends Bella replies sometime later, “*Raises hand.*” Kammy chimes in with a tweet to the same effect later. Which--aside from making me wonder where I found these people--gave me driving excuse number two. Olives.

Anyway, I left to go to the bookstore right after the France v Mexico game. Which I was glad to see France lose, by the way. Don’t get me wrong, got nothing against the French—I don’t hate them like Jake does, but they have played miserable football this tournament, and they deserve to be in the hole they are in right now, a hole of their own making. Both Mexican goals were superb.

Bunch of hand-written posters outside the shop as I get to it. It’s a used bookstore, apparently. I love used books. A cart with 25-cent paperbacks outside the store. That’s already a good sign, I think.

The store has a screen door and for some reason I think that’s awesome. Homey-like. A faint tinkling announces my presence inside. I remove my sunglasses. First thoughts—this place is rad. To the wall on the right are several cut-out quotes about books and how reading is the best thing in existence (which it is).

There’s a sturdy wooden bench against the wall, and carved into the backrest is “LIAR’S BENCH”. Again, I find that very cool. At one end of the bench sit a sheaf of papers, and a sign pasted above them reads, “Free Jokes” with an arrow pointing towards the stack. I shuffle through them. Assorted comic strips, clippings and printed-out one liners. Interesting, I think.

There’s another 25-cent rack indoors, and I browse through it, then start looking at the shelves. Sudden movement below me and I’m shocked to notice a cat stirring lazily against one of the shelves. I feel guilty, thinking I might have accidentally stepped on it while looking at the books on the rack, so I resist my initial urge to pet the cute thing.

(I did pet it later, though, twice. Verdict? Cat’s awesome.)

I move on to a hand-drawn map of the store. “Horror. Science Fiction. Fantasy. Romance. History. Sports. Thrillers. Oversized Books. Philosophy. Religion.” You name it, it was there. And for a place that sold second-hand books, it was remarkably-well maintained.

There’s another customer perusing the shelves, but he leaves pretty quick. That’s when I notice the first sign.

“NO CELL PHONES ALLOWED.” But I already saw that on the screen door coming into the place and remembered thinking I totally agreed with that.

“Whistlers WILL BE TAKEN OUT INTO THE STREET AND SHOT.” I have to read that twice, my eyes wide. As a proud whistler, I’m somewhat offended, but I’m terribly amused to see such a sign.

“NOISY CHILDREN WILL BE TAKEN FROM THEIR PARENTS AND GIVEN TO STRANGERS.” By now I’m grinning widely.

This is my kind of place.

I pass a chair on which is written “Please use ladder.” The top shelves are pretty high, and I guess the owner or whatever doesn’t want people standing on the chairs to reach up there. Fair enough--I see a ladder down the aisle. I look at the first section, Horror. (Naturally.) Once again a tiny sign catches my eye. It’s right at the top shelf, where one would need a ladder to get to.

It says, “Don’t fall. You’ll bleed to death before you get to the hospital.”

Someone here has a very interesting sense of humor. I love it.

I’m going back tomorrow.

Oh yeah, and I got olives. Pimiento Stuffed Spanish Manzanilla Olives. I’m having them right now. Deelish.