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The following piece was written over the weekend for a short story contest on Janet Reid’s blog, with the constraint that it had to be 100 words or less and use the words red, bent, fold, chaos, and chasm. While I did not win (maybe next time!), I’m quite pleased that I was mentioned as one of the stories which made her laugh.

Here’s the piece …

* * *

Toss me body off the mountain into the chasm. Say something foul about me before me pirate guts paint the rocks red! These be the wishes of your loving father, Arrrchibald!

“Always a force of chaos,” said the sheriff. “Whaddaya gonna do?”

“Fold the will back up, bury him like a normal person?”

“We already agreed.”

“Fine!”

They walked to the pickup’s bed. The sheriff put an eyepatch on the body. Paul bent over the corpse, pressed a saw below the knee, and asked, “You think Dad’ll be the first CPA buried with a peg leg?”

“Just start sawing, brother.”

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Short-Stories
Short-Stories by Various
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

This small collection of a handful of classic stories proves refreshing, if a touch moralistic. I love Hawthorne’s writing, but his stories I find just a touch too direct. (Don’t lecture me, old man!) My favorite in here is one I hadn’t read before, “The Griffin and the Minor Canon,” which is basically the story of a gargoyle coming to stare at its likeness above a church. Its presence terrifies the villagers, and the further reactions made for interesting reading. Something about that story really works on me.

What I love about this collection is how representative it is of horror stories as literature.

Some bad formatting in this free kindle version frustrated me at times.

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The Day of the Triffids
The Day of the Triffids by John Wyndham
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

Stop me, oh-ho-whoa stop me, stop me if you think that you’ve heard this one before: A man wakes up in a London hospital to find no one around, stumbles out into Piccadilly to find the world has gone all apocalyptic while he’s been sleeping.

Yep. Turns out this book was made into a movie called 28 Days Later, among others.

There’s a lot to recommend this book by John Wyndham, which details the attempts to rebuild civilization after a meteorological event renders most of the world blind, leaving them at the mercy of dangerous, scientifically-engineered plants known as triffids, which are tall clumsy things with vicious stingers that now run rampant over a population too sense-deprived to effectively corral them anymore. For one, I liked the author’s vocabulary, and the guy can actually write a nice sentence. For another, I thought a lot of this book was really well-imagined. The details and reactions to the events were nicely convincing, and I adored the second chapter, which discussed the origins of the triffids.

Unfortunately, the book as a whole was perhaps just a little too languid in its pace. It felt cozy and safe most of the time, and I wished that it could have been more exciting. Until very close to the end of the book, the triffids play a painfully minor role, and while it’s interesting that most of the conflict arises from the need to find a solution to meeting the needs of a population that’s gone blind … I just, what can I say, I wanted more triffids. I loved their design, I love the way Wyndham describes them moving with their long stalk swaying nearly comically front-to-back, but it annoyed me how little drama they ultimately provided.

I really want this killer plant book to be scarier. Alas.

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The 39 Steps
The 39 Steps by John Buchan
My rating: 1 of 5 stars

Richard Hannay’s been feeling bored with his life in London. Reading the paper one morning, Hannay sees something about a politician he admires, and next thing he knows, he’s conjured an anti-semite out of thin air to spin yarns in his parlor and tell him there is a plot to kill the admirable politician and launch Britain and Germany into war. Luckily for Hannay, this anti-semite is murdered mysteriously, leaving Hannay looking pretty suspicious, so what can he do but become the author’s wish-fulfillment and go on the run and engage in a little international espionage.

By which I mean he runs around in the fields. A lot. He hides in this field. He hides in that field. Some shadowy figures close in, and off he goes, running again.

I much prefer the move version, Sweet Sweetback’s Baadasssss Song. At least that has good music for all the running around parts.

This book is a series of improbable scenes of a man adopting various disguises to avoid detection while he does next to nothing of any import — until the final chapter, where he unravels it all in one of the most ridiculous scenes I have ever read. Seriously. He realizes that the man sitting right in front of him with NO DISGUISE ON is a man he met and had a conversation with a few chapters earlier. And it’s treated like an ah-ha! moment.

Credit where it’s due, I suppose for being one of the first of its kind. Rumor has it this book started the spy genre. If so, I wish they’d had a better blueprint. This is one of the worst books I’ve ever read. It has little resemblance to the Hitchcock film of the same title.

And they call it a classic …

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The Amazing Screw-On Head and Other Curious Objects
The Amazing Screw-On Head and Other Curious Objects by Mike Mignola

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I’d read the single-issue comic before and always wanted more. This collection of short stories by Mignola (and special-guest story conceived by his daughter) rounds out the experience in satisfying ways.

The eponymous story features the character of Screw-On Head, who is a small mechanical hero under the employ of Abraham Lincoln, sent on a mission to save the world from some ne’er-do-wells. Great writing and artwork, as per Mignola’s usual, abound, although the story itself might be a little bit of a standard-issue MacGuffin-driven yarn.

But the following stories, which feature and expand upon characters and elements of Screw-On Head, are shockingly good. I especially liked “The Witch and Her Soul,” which has the single most beautiful depiction of a “mortal coil” in a story that made me laugh out loud.

All of these are winners, though, and I thought the last piece, which was sort of a coda for the rest of it, depicting objects from the other tales in an atmospheric museum, was so inspiring and effective it made me want to read everything again right away.

This is a book I will cherish for quite some time.

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I know I’ve been guilty of a lot of Top Ten lists in the past myself, so I thought I’d offer some basic pointers for those looking to get into the list-making game. Without further preamble, here then are the most important things to remember this year, determined through science:

10. If you put more than ten things on your Top Ten list, the next time you play chess with me I get to play with two extra pawns. Oh, you don’t think that’s fair? Some anarchist you turned out to be!

9. If you leave something off or put something on that you shouldn’t have, I will come to your house and stay either way too long or simply punch you in the face and disappear into thin air.

8. Most people probably already know your list is subjective opinion. You might not need to remind us all that your rankings are not factual or objective. 

7. The most blatant lies are usually put in the number 7 and number 2 spots.

6. Generally #6 is freaking mind-blowing. This is where people will be surprised to find you so wise and erudite.

5. While you have never stood out in a crowd of 1,374,398 people, putting this list together and posting it online may/may not be the time you finally rise above the rest and get people to pay attention to you, although probably only if you’re ranking the top ten things your pet monkey or your pet robot did this year. (If you don’t have a pet monkey or pet robot, you should making getting one a New Year’s resolution.)

4. Putting a documentary about inner city life or a rap album on your list only gives your list credibility if you are ranking the best rap albums or documentaries about inner city life. Extra credibility, though, can be earned if the rap album appears on the documentary list and the documentary on the rap album list.

3. In all likelihood, you will enjoy the process and find it deeply rewarding, and it will help you understand what has happened to you this year, which was painful and horrible. Let’s hope it doesn’t happen again, though–the list-making.

2. It probably would have been a better use of your time to learn a new word in Spanish than to make your list. Did you know embarazada means pregnant, not embarrassed? Now you do, so I’ve undone that mistake for you. (Always remember to practice safe sex when making a list, even if making it en la ciudad de mexico.)

1. Someone will die, no matter what you do, while you write your list. Probably unrelated, but I thought you should know.

Dear Lisbeth,

I’ve had such a good time meeting you this summer! I’m really going to miss you, and Camp Wamkeag, and all our friends, and all those sunset canoe rides around the island. Hanging out on the picnic tables outside our cabins at night, swatting flies off our bodies, sweltering in the heat in the afternoon, and stealing kisses behind the art shed after making tie-dyed t-shirts–this has all been so transformative, such a total blast.

This place fills me with such warmth. It’s really hard to think about going home to my stupid small town, where people think I’m weird and don’t pay much attention to me. It has meant so much, to have this romance this summer, and to at last finally kiss a girl. I didn’t think I’d have to wait until I was thirteen to cross that milestone, but now that I have, I can’t imagine I’ll ever forget you.

I like you a lot, Lisbeth. I will miss you terribly.

Just please don’t write.

Basically, I want us to be like Rose and Jack in that movie Titanic–together for a few days, and then you stay on your door floating in the water, and I turn into a popsicle. All great summer camp romances are like that movie–short, sweet, and without time enough to discover any flaws. If they’d both made it to the States, things probably wouldn’t have worked out.

What are we going to do? Write back and forth about the asparagus we had for dinner and how much we hate our stepfathers? How stupid geometry class is? Sorry, but long-winded exposition does not make the best reading material.

And you know as well as I do that there’s a vague but definite sense of arbitrariness to our affections, sweet as they are. We may be young, but we’re not stupid. We chose each other because we were both available and because the risk was so low, given that camp lasts only a week, and the big final dance in the main lodge that caps it off doesn’t even require fancy dress!

Oh, those slow dances! Getting a bit misty here. We really connected. And we didn’t have to say anything.

But seriously, let’s not ever move that far past the surface. We’re young. We’re cute. We both like each other for liking each other. Relationships rarely come and go with such a lack of guilt and heartbreak. Later, there won’t be summer camp to go to, and we’ll have to give reasons for not wanting to see each other, or we’ll have to work faster and with more obvious callousness during some one-night layover somewhere.

This is a special time of our lives.

So please do forget to write, and let this time we had together remain pure, shallow, short, and perfect.

Love always (unless you ask for more of it),
Pete