Help Desk?

Fiddling with WordPress again, and trying to figure out how to domain map one of my other domains onto a WordPress blog without having to pay them money. Is this possible, interwebs?

I swear I'm going to learn HTML this year. I've just been busy, you know, writing.

Also, if I were to start regularly embedding video, would those of you who pull the RSS prefer it to be before or after the jump?

Elephant Words - 6 Week Roundup

Andrew Cheverton is a fellow writer on EW, and he has this thing where he does a commentary track on his pieces after each 6 week period is over. I'll be emulating him now:


Long-Sigh Anxiety: I feel like I weaved drunkenly across the line of humor and melancholy with this piece, and it's weaker for it. I'm enamored with the idea of a city where every piece of graffiti is a memorial, but I lose the thread bitching about procedural television (my least favorite genre, because nothing new has been introduced to it since the early 1990s). If I could trim this one down to about half it's length, I think I'd find something quite nice.


Things My Father Told Me When I Was Young: I had three different half-stories for this image, all written out longhand in a notebook while sitting under a tree by the apartment I was living in near Pittsburgh at the time. As the sun was setting, I looked up and saw the moon was almost full. Ever since I was a child, I've had two fears: Wolves, as a result of a kid's book, Donald Cries Wolf (Disney used to draw wolves lean and hungry, with slavering jaws and yellow eyes), and foxes, because of my father. He's told me the story of The Bloody Eyed Fox many times over the years, and I wanted to do a spin on it, presenting it from the perspective of the son of one of the bad guys rather than the usual viewpoint of the boy who owned the fox. My father claims to have seen the Bloody-Eyed Fox, lurking around Ten-Mile Creek in Mississippi, and I don't doubt him. I've spent the night there many times, and spent days digging up arrowheads. Rest assured, it's prime haunting territory.


A Rivalry With Andrew Cheverton That's Not Based On Looks: The week prior, Andrew had written a six-word short story in Hemingway fashion. I wanted to do the same. Alan commented that it seemed as if I had started with four pages of story and trimmed until I settled on one upsetting sentence. He was pretty much right. I hadn't written a four-page story, but I had a ton of notes: a history of what had happened, a list of survivors, the equipment and rations they were down to; basically, the kinds of things that keep me up at night worrying about the inevitable zombie apocalypse. Then, I realized it would just seem like horror-babble-genre fluff, and took it high-concept.

Another Low Lit Memory: This is just something that's been in my head for ages, ever since I found out the world turned and was a little bit tilted. Granted, I didn't have much of a solid understanding of science then, but when has that ever stopped a kid, or an author, from having some fun? My regrets with this piece are of the stylistic variety. I actually wanted to have no names, and write it more in the style of an Italo Calvino folktale, but I was a Monday poster, and had no time to go back through and rework it. As it is, it's still cute, but it's not quite timeless. I'm going to redo it someday, and try to pass it off as a folktale of the 22nd Century.

By Way Of An Apology: It was my week to post the picture, so I feel I can tell you my mom took this picture, while visiting friends in France. The man who did this sculpture apparently has dozens more all over his farm. I can't imagine he's able to sell them, much less figure out how he's able to build them. The statue struck me as kind of sad, unless of course you look at it up close. Its teeth are very sharp and nasty and obviously designed for meat, but barring that detail, I'd be terrified to see something punished like that. The idea was in my head almost as soon as I decided on the picture, and when everyone started writing melancholic stories that week, I became worried. Fortunately, nobody touched on my theme, and I got to write my story. This is another one that would benefit from a folk-tale style, though I like my first-person narrator.


Was This Last Month?: I'm big on costume parties. I'm also big on innovation at costume parties. I'm not big on people who half-ass them, and I'm not big on people who over-do them and then have to explain their costumes. I like the voice of this piece, though I recognize it's just a dialogue scene, and has no actual plot to it. That's okay. It's getting a feel for character. You're allowed to do that in short fiction. I hope.

Video Games Are Anathema To Work

I had written a long article about how I used to love games but never find myself playing them anymore, and started listing the few exceptions to that fact. The list kept growing and growing, and I quickly realized my thesis was a lie. So that article isn't getting published. But the end of it, where I talked about my renewed (never left) passion for games and listed the games I want to play, is as follows:

Things that I'm dying to play (that I have the capability to, seeing as I don't own a PS3):

1. Left 4 Dead - Xbox 360 - A zombie survival horror action game based on the Half Life 2 engine? 4 player co-op? You can play as the undead in a versus mode? Is there anything about this game that doesn't scream, "Matt Hartwell, I am your new lord and master"?

2. Fable 2 - Xbox 360 - I was one of six people who really enjoyed the original Fable, which was an amazing game that fell victim to its own hype. No, it didn't have a persistent world. No, it wasn't the be-all end-all of games, but it was a fun little action-RPG with lots of cool new ideas. Apparently, this isn't more of the same, as tons of new cool ideas have been stacked on top of the delicious cake that was already there. It too, has online co-op.

Co-operative play, I think, is why I enjoy games so much. Versus is nice too, but the feeling of accomplishing a feat with someone's help is awesome. I even enjoy, in this age of 3d graphics and interactive storytelling, the archaic concept of playing single-player games co-operatively by passing the controller back and forth as you progress.

3. Fallout 3 - Xbox 360 - It's basically Oblivion, but 3 times bigger, it's sci-fi themed (I'm far more partial to sci-fi than I am to fantasy, George R. R. Martin being the exception to the rule), and it's gorgeous. Plus, it's got a healthy sense of humor, as anyone familiar with the first two Fallouts knows. This is something you could get lost in and never come back from. Easily 50 to 100 hours of gameplay, because this is the kind of game I wander around in, doing every little thing imaginable.

4. Okami - Wii - I missed it on PS2, and have the chance to play it now. It's a completely art-driven game, and I feel like we don't have nearly enough of that.

5. Prince of Persia - Xbox 360 - Speaking of art driven games, this is an impressionistic dreamscape, masquerading as a maddening platformer.

6. Far Cry 2 - Xbox 360 - Because sometimes I just want to hunt people in the African Savannah, Most Dangerous Game style. I love FPSs. This one is apparently amazing.

7. Call of Duty: World At War - Xbox 360 - As is this one, or so I hear. It's supposedly the ultimate online experience, and lots of people I know play it. Which is nice, because everyone I don't know on Xbox Live is a dick. Who says the F-word and N-word a lot. For no reason. And is in 7th grade or using a filter that makes their voice sound like their in 7th grade.

8. Dead Space - Xbox 360 - I love survival horror. This will tide me over until Resident Evil 5.

9. No More Heroes - Wii - Brent owns this one, so it'll be the first on this list I play. From the maker of the trippy Killer 7, which I did beat, and did enjoy, but can't say I understood, this actioner has more style than Jesus.

10. BoomBlox - Wii - A party game to round out the list, this looks like a ridiculous amount of fun, especially after a few drinks.

Lesser works round-up: I also hear Condemned is insane and a blast to play with the lights off. I want to check out Alone in the Dark, and the King Kong game is probably only 5 bucks at this point.

There's a chance this lust will all lead to a GameFly membership, as the total purchase price of these games just about equals a month's rent, and that's not going to happen.

Monday Roundup - Los Feliz Edition

FICTION
New Elephant Words Story up here. Based on this picture. Last name stolen from this girl.

FURNITURE
One of the IKEA chairs is breaking inexplicably. It will go back to Burbank for an exchange this week.

FINANCES
I'm doing transcription work for Intervention until I find a real job.

FILM
Brent and I will be getting our TV this week. DVD watching will follow. First up: The Aura

FOTOS
I won these lithographs from the illustrious (get it?) Mitch Breitweiser. They are awesome prints colored by his wife.

Hearth and Home

Apartment secured - 2BR/2BA, one block over from the strip of shops and restaurants on Vermont and Franklin.

We now have a kitchen table, two chairs, two end tables, three lamps, two air mattresses. As of this afternoon, there may be a couch.

Slowly, we build ourselves a home from the wreckage.

I like Los Angeles.

I'm working on getting a job - several promising leads abound, even during this dry spell in Hollywood.

Although, there's two more days left on my, "Pulp novels and Private Eye Movies Have Promised Me Involvement In A Complicated Murder Mystery Within A Week of Moving Here" Countdown. Nothing yet, but there's still time.

Scrambling Around Los Feliz

Looking for a place to live in Los Feliz. May have found it.

New story, based on this picture. Fighting with this story. Based on Hemingway's classic:
"For Sale: Baby shoes. Never Worn."

Another Day, Another Dollar

As always, another week brings another story. Please read, rate and comment. Or leave a comment here on my blog if you don't want to register for WordPress. This story is actually based on a story my dad tells when there's a full moon. It's completely, 100% true, or so he's assured me, and the Bloody-eyed Fox will kill you, if you're of the wrong lineage.

I've watched two more movies since we last spoke: Le Doulos and Casque D'Or.

Le Doulos, or Doulos: The Fingerman, is a Melville film, which always makes me happy. I won't even spend time reviewing it, because I would just gush about it and annoy Brent.

Casque D'Or was a period piece set in what I think was the 1890s in Paris. It had Simone Signoret, and the two movies shared a male lead, Serge Reggiani. It was a love story, and quite an interesting one at that. It seems the primary method of communication between the sexes at this time was the slap. All in all, very enjoyable, but probably not something I'd screen at movie night.

A Fool Is Someone Who Pays Twice For The Same Thing

Another short story can be found here. Based on this image.

I recently watched The Complete Mr. Arkadin, which had to have been one of the more frustrating experiences of my life. The main character was portrayed by one of the most non-nuanced performances ever. Truly, a horrific acting job, which makes it hard to give a damn about the rest of the movie. But therein lies the rub! The rest of the movie, barring some minor points, is a gem!

There are characters seen onscreen for scant minutes that you could devote entire films to! There's sumptuous, well-thought-out cinematography (there's also some atrocious cinematography lumped in there), and a jigsaw puzzle of a plot that is, in the end, truly fantastic. Let's not forget the dialogue! There's some truly badass dialogue in this movie: "I knew what I wanted. That's the difference between us. In this world there are those who give and those who ask. Those who do not care to give... those who do not dare to ask. You dared. But you were never quite sure what your were asking for. "

Granted, there's some hallmarks of older cinema that I still will never understand: a number of "playful" (for lack of a better term) scenes, involving fun chases and strange games of tug of war. But perhaps the world was simply more playful back then, since people didn't have premarital sex with which to sublimate their drives. Definitely worth checking out, and I've decided, once I'm slightly richer, I'm going to remake the shit out of it, fixing the minor problems and casting John Hamm from Madmen. It'll totally stay in the early fifties, because that's one of the best places to set a movie, as not all problems could be solved with a cellphone call then.

Desperate Kids Do Dangerous Things

Here's this week's Elephant Words contribution.

Just tipped over the halfway point on Rome Season 2, for the second time. This is where I left off last time, when I moved from Florida leaving the series unfinished. Also watching Madmen so I can give it back to Elliott before I move to Los Angeles. I'm four episodes in, and it's breath-taking.

Ripped the complete Twilight Zone to my iPod, and The Wire season 3. So I've got entertainment galore, and no need to buy or rent any movies for quite some time.

Putting Netflix on hold next week. I dropped down to the 1-at-a-time plan, and $8.99 seems slightly overpriced, since they start to slow down your delivery if you send things back the day after you get them. No sense paying for it while I make the move and find a new address.

The movie I just sent back today was The Assassination of Jesse James By The Coward Robert Ford, and it was one of the most gorgeous movies I've ever seen. I really feel like this movie slipped under a lot of peoples' radars, coupled with the fact you can't force America to pay attention to Westerns anymore, though it used to be the most popular genre in the country.

DeKlutter: Vol. 2 Trimming The Fat

I am in the process of decluttering my life, starting with an inventory of my possessions. Over the past four years, I have accumulated a mass of things that lies chained around my neck, albatross-style, keeping me from an easier lifestyle. The main goal in life is a collection of experiences, and what we truly crave when we purchase media is not the product itself, but the act of consuming it. Except in the case of Criterion Collection DVDs, the packaging on those is amazing.
In preparation for a move to Los Angeles, I am attempting to rid myself of at least half of my possessions, to both facilitate ease of movement and free up a certain spiritual junkroom that has arisen as a result of too many possessions. I’m not against owning things. I’m not some sort of strict ascetic who believes objects keep one from achieving some measure of spirituality and actual happiness, but I do notice a correlation between the sheer amount of things one hoards and a decline in ability and willingness to opt for experiences over increasing the size of one’s collection. I could have done a lot more cool things and roadtrips in college, but I spent most of my money on comic books, video games, and DVDs. I could have eaten some truly amazing dinners, gone seen some really cool shows and taken a rafting trip down a lazy river, but instead chose to increase the size of my collections, regardless of the actual desire for what I was purchasing.
My first problem in that regard was Criterion DVDs. I decided I wanted the Criterion Collection, without regards to my enjoyment of the films I was purchasing. I went on a spending spree, ebay, Amazon, and the used DVD guy in the student union saw frequent purchases from me of movies I had never seen. Of some movies I still haven’t seen!
Following that was comic books. Though I got better at this near the end of college, I initially didn’t read the books others had while limiting my purchases to that which people I knew weren’t buying. I would buy six issues of something I didn’t enjoy the first issue of, out of a sense of “completing the run”. I have three full boxes of comics I will never read again, another box I probably won’t read again because of time constraints, and only one box I continually delve into to reread. If you figure each box holds 100 comics, that’s $1,200 in wasted cash flow, right there. Each box holds more than 100 comics, sadly.
The timesink in reading 300 comics I didn’t love was considerable, with each issue taking anywhere from ten to thirty minutes to consume. At the lower end of that rate, that’s fifty hours of potential productive time wasted. That’s a whole screenplay, revised once over. That’s 100 pages of comics script. And that’s the low estimate!
I purchased a large number of trades and hardcovers just to finish the collection, such as all the Ultimate Hardcovers of Spiderman, Xmen, The Ultimates, UFF – at $30 a pop! Granted, I got rid of most of these when I traded them in to complete some Vertigo series I truly loved, but most of those Ultimate books I stopped enjoying halfway through, but kept buying because they looked so good on the shelf.
No more! Ten Criterions went up on Amazon today, as well as some hardcovers, and a few trades. I have a stack of books that will lose me money on shipping that I’ll probably sell in bulk to the used bookstore. The less to take with me, the better. There’s a certain crippling problem involved with having too many unread books on the bookshelf. If I only own a handful of books, I’m more likely to read them. With a hundred or two, I’m unlikely to be able to decide which one I want to read next. In New York, I had ten books with me, and read one a week, buying a new one only when I had run out of material. The system worked beautifully.
So really, that’s the focus of today, clearing out the physical clutter. Getting rid of junk. Looking at something and deciding if I’m keeping it because I’m sentimental or because I truly intend to get more use out of it.
Chances are, I won’t.

DeKlutter: Vol. 1 Breaking The Habit

At this point, it's safe to say I am addicted to the internet.

The whole end-goal of anyone hoping to be an artist in any medium is to have a positive ratio of creation to consumption. Really, that's a lesson you can apply to most aspects of life, but right now, the focus is on writing.

I browse all my RSS feeds, and wiki-jump through them into more and more articles until I've wasted five hours accomplishing nothing, instead gorging on irrelevant information. I have had this habit since I was in eighth grade, and often would not go outside, in favor of surfing the internet. My brain retains trivia. It makes me useful in esoteric discussions and bar competitions, but non-functional in the real world.

I managed to birth an outline of an issue and six pages of script the other day, because I forcibly removed myself from the internet by going to Border's, where you need T-Mobile to access their wi-fi. I should not need to do this. As such, it's been recommended to me to go on a media fast. For the next five days, I will not be checking my RSS feeds or Facebook. I will not be reading the news. I will not be listening to any non-music radio or podcasts. I will read an hour of fiction for pleasure each night before bed. I will touch no magazines. You will not see me on iChat. Any Twitter updates will be text messages from my phone, and they will be at a greatly reduced number, calculated to only provide useful information so as not to contribute noise to anyone else's influx of information. I will watch no television, but will try to watch at least three fiction movies during the week that I have not yet seen, but are sitting in a pile on my shelf. I will thrive on a low-information diet, and reduce the amount of noise to a more distinct signal. I will still be checking e-mail, but only twice a day; once in the morning and once in the evening. I will still be checking my private groupblog, during the time I use to check my mail in the evening.

We will see if the world collapses while I'm gone. Any blogfeeds that, upon my return, have not yielded something particularly valuable for me will be deleted from my GoogleReader.

There will likely be another post or two here, during the week, about my progress as I begin to hack my life in different areas, and of course, this week's Elephant Words, which is going to be based on this picture.

Wish me luck. I'm hoping to emerge from this week with the remainder of The Smoky City Vol. 1 outlined and all of issue one scripted. If you like gangsters and ghosts, you're going to love this comic.

Facts of Life

I've got another Elephant Words story up today! As always, I would be grateful if you would:
1. Rate it on Elephant Words
2. Leave a comment on Elephant Words
3. Forward it to as many people as you can. We're really trying to drive up readership at the site, and it's free fiction from quality writers, so we'd love the encouragement.

I was invited to stick around for another 6 weeks, and jumped at the opportunity. Having deadlines is what keeps me honest. So, you know, Karolena, I need a new deadline.

I've knocked out a few books lately that I'll be reviewing as soon as I get the time.

I Bring Pictures!

This week is my week on Elephant Words to pick the picture.

I chose this picture I took with my phone.

My story will be up Saturday.

I Choo-choo-choose You!

In my infinite generosity, I present this week's Elephant Words post.

Ch-ch-ch-changes

I'm considering switching to WordPress, and also buying some hosting to craft a real website. Any thoughts or recommendations from the cloud?

Also:


Cheese Fail

Frustrations

Apologies to everyone bothered with a LinkedIn invitation. It automatically sent out invitations to everyone in my Gmail inbox when I set up my account. I don't know why, I don't know how to fix it.

Keeping Things Real

Here's my latest Elephant Words story.

As always, please rate and comment honestly. I like this quite a bit more than last week's post.

Last week's post, which you can view in my archives on Elephant Words, or by clicking here, felt, to me, like it suffered from being a student film.

The problem with student films is they are often short, and when one wants to make a comedy, one often ends up telling a joke with a punchline, rather than having an actual story where the comedy comes naturally from the characters and their actions (as well as delightful window dressing). So it felt like a set-up and a punchline to me. I enjoyed the first story I did there, because it was a pulp sci-fi piece masquerading as a love story/relationship deconstruction. This one is probably the one I'm most proud of so far, though there's at least three weeks left (and hopefully more!).

Tomorrow is a meeting with my artist for our first comic project, and I'm really excited about this one. It's going to showcase a lot of old Pittsburgh, which I think is pretty cool.

Mmmm... Copyright violation

This'll probably get yanked by tomorrow for its choice of music, but hey, it's upsetting anyhow:

More Stories

New Elephant Words article up.

Amazon.com needs to hurry my shipments up. I can't read Testament Vol.4 until 2-3 arrive.

Free Art? Don't Mind If I Do!

Because I am full of love, and know you may not all have the chance to see my pieces the day they're posted (at www.elephantwords.co.uk), here's a permalink for my first Elephant Words piece. It doesn't go live until 11:59 GMT on 9/11. If there are any problems, let me know. Also, please tell me what you think, both here, and on the Elephant Words site, and don't forget to rate the story. I hope you enjoy it!

My mother is in town this week, and already my food intake has increased dramatically in both quantity and quality.

Life is good.

Recent Developments

Just to let you all know:

I'm now a contributing writer at Elephant Words for at least the next six weeks. I'll be posting permalinks to each piece that goes up, since the design of the site is that only the most recent posting is visible, but I encourage you to check it out daily and read the other pieces.

My first piece goes live Thursday.

Grim Meathook Future Imminent

Dear Nation,

Screw you.

Love,

The Bush Administration

Pleasant Surprises

This series debuted tonight.

And is shockingly good.

I probably won't catch another episode until it's on DVD, but way to go TNT, you're definitely making a comeback from the likes of having BLADE and BLACK SCORPION as original series.

Strange Rejections

The H.P. Lovecraft Film Festival said no.

To The Black Circle.

Which baffles me.

I intend to be very depressed and angry for several days, followed by a period of intense creativity and productivity.

Why Not?

Just finished this whole series today.

Tears in eyes.

Go get it.

Things I Think Are Awesome But Don't Want, Vol. 1

Why is it that womens' fashion is infinitely more varied than mens'?

Why do they get cool futuristic looking things, and it's considered hot, whereas if men don anything other than suit and tie, or tux and tails, it's considered strange?

Why do I not have a girlfriend who wears this?

Things I Want Vol. 1

In my natural state as an avid consumer, I am prone to wild, private desires of unnecessary merchandise. Such as this t-shirt. The lettering is actually black on black, not gray. My current hobby seems to be pimping Kieron Gillen products, so this keeps in line with that.

Sadly, this is only available at Nerd Prom San Diego.

Media For Your Perusal

Doubtless, you've all seen this by now. A cool idea? Perhaps, and this will almost certainly bolster the argument made by Brent Pritchett that comics can't convey action well, since they seem forced to turn themselves into a cartoon or movie to keep the attention of anyone in the mainstream.
I think my biggest gripe with it is the fact that they are selling all the other episodes for money, and since this ties into a best-selling graphic novel, and a massive blockbuster movie release, it's likely they'll make quite a killing from it. If they're going to easily recoup their losses then, why is one guy doing all the voices? It's not entirely noticeable until you get to anything said by Silk Spectre (nee Laurie Juspe- Jupiter), and then it sounds like when you're pointing out the foibles of your girlfriend's logic using your interpretation of her voice, which is invariably ridiculous.
The animation is clean enough, seeing as all they had to do was photoshop source material and stick it in Flash or something similar, but it feels slightly dead to me, perhaps because the limbs are stiff. There's some cool lighting effects and forced focus that they could have gotten away with not doing, so it's nice to see the effort, but as it stands, I don't think I'd be finishing this if the remaining 11 episodes were free.
Any thoughts on the trailer? This has been discussed ad nauseam, I'm sure, on all sorts of forums and message boards by now, and my two cents are going to be tantamount to pissing in the wind, so instead, I'm going to just leave you with an opportunity.

True Life Stories

Presents

Kieron Gillen, writer of the Brit-pop eulogy Phonogram, and Charity Larrison, whose work is new to me, produced this amazing graphic novel, Busted Wonder. It's available online, for free, in its entirety, thanks to the Colleen Doran grant. Read it.

Sitting in Pittsburgh International Airport, getting ready to fly to Pensacola via Atlanta for the week. The plan is to pick up my car, which has inexplicably appeared there instead of Pittsburgh, where I left it, and drive back to the 'Burgh next weekend.

I'll be picking up books while I'm down there. The complete Preacher, Y: The Last Man, 100 Bullets, Lucifer, Fables, Sandman, The Invisibles, that sort of thing. In addition, I may grab a box or two of prose books I've read and am hoarding and open up an eBay store to try to recoup the cost of being a hardcore bibliophile. 
Purchasing prose books seems to be a losing proposition these days. 300 pages of text for $15 isn't exactly a winning equation, as that's only almost 3 hours worth of reading. I demand a higher ratio of cost to entertainment for the media I consume, and a book is a much larger time investment than renting a movie.
The other problem the book industry faces with me is the library. A good library has everything I want to read. Northland and Pittsburgh Public pick up just about every new novel that comes out. I honestly think Northland has a better selection than most of the libraries I looked at in Brooklyn. That leaves me renting movies and borrowing books. The only media I really expend money on anymore are comics and video games.
Comics are kind of a strange beast when it comes to purchases. The market depends on monthly sales, and titles with low monthly sales often don't get collected into trades. As such, I'm inclined to buy singles, but I prefer trades. They contain complete stories and look great on my bookshelf. I am more likely to re-read titles I own in trade than I am titles I own as single issues. I've re-read Sandman and Preacher multiple times. I read each issue of The Walking Dead when it comes out and file it away in a box. Granted, an argument could be made in that example that Sandman and Preacher reward multiple readings while The Walking Dead is pulp-horror, but I'm not making an argument based on content. 
Usually, the only singles I re-read are self-contained in and of themselves. Issues of Fell are frequent revisits for me, because every issue is its own story. Same with this last arc of Criminal. The most curious aspect of comic-collecting, for me, anyhow, is the idea of purchasing collections of runs you already own. For instance, I own all the singles of Criminal, but purchase the trades the day they come out. Often my argument for this has been that I want other people to read these books, and I'm far more likely to get back a trade in good condition than a stack of single issues. Either way, I seem to have no qualms paying double for something, though I'm sometimes receiving less. Criminal and Casanova publish essays and supplemental artwork in their backpages which don't make the transition to the trades. Is this a reward system that encourages me to purchase the singles? If so, it's working.

A Goodbye Letter

In 2007, I had challenged myself to sample 100 different beers before I graduated college, not counting standard brews such as Budweiser, Coors, etc. I reached the goal shortly after graduation, writing mini-reviews of each beer, and posting them as Facebook notes. Since then, I've tried a veritable cornucopia of new beers during my (now-defunct) stay in New York. The proximity of the Brooklyn Brewery enabled (definitely the word to use) me to sample all of their wares, and an immense array of beer-bars with craft beers on tap allowed me to experience a fresh poured range that would make any hop-head jealous.

As such, now that I have relocated, beers are becoming, as cookies did for a certain monster overly fond of them, a sometimes food. Gone are the days of drinking five or six different beers at ReBar a night, or racing to drink a gallon at Fette Sau before realizing I'm competing alone. Now, we'll be looking at, at most, one bottle of a craft beer a week. I'll be posting regular reviews, as though some of you don't care, it will give the blog a certain regularity previously only achieved with fiber.

As for my reading, I'm three weeks behind, and even further on reviews. I haven't given up, and am fortunate enough to be taking a flight Monday morning, on which I'm sure I can kill two Hard Case Crime books. Did I tell you? I found my first one I'm unimpressed with. More on that coming soon.

Tonight's beer:

Palo Santo Marron by the Dogfish Head Brewing Company

Long one of my favorite brewing companies, the people at Dogfish Head are Adventurers first, brewers second. Or also first, as second makes it seem like they are less successful on that front. Never content to rest on their laurels, these guys continually pump out new product, some of it so limited that if you miss it, you're not going to see it again (or, if you're lucky, you may see it the following year). They're the guys who make the 60-minute IPA, the 90-minute IPA, and that disgustingly sweet, amazingly hoppy, ridiculously alcoholic beast of a beer, the 120-minute IPA. They have seasonals such as Raison D'etre, Aprihop, and their delicious New Orleans-inspired Chicory Stout. In addition, they like to innovate, and occasionally discover new (and old) ways to brew beverages, and instead of writing about them on their blog and saying, "How interesting, the ancient Chinese malted these herbs," or, "The Babylonians apparently used Honey in this recipe," they actually go ahead and do it. Sometimes the results are spectacular (Jiahu), sometimes, less so (Midas Touch), but they're always trying, and they're always getting me to try with them.

This latest release from them is a dark brown ale aged in the largest wooden barrels made since before Prohibition (10,000 gallons). The wood, however, is what's special. It's a South American wood traditionally used in winemaking, and it imparts a complex vanilla bean and burnt sugar flavor to the beer. It must sit in there awhile being fed sugar, because it also weighs in at 12%ABV. At $5.00 per bottle, it's not easy on the wallet, but it's not meant to be. It's a sipping beer, in the way there are sipping bourbons, and you're not going to want more than one, unless you're a defeatist. If you see it, pick up a bottle. You won't regret it.

Next Week: Dogfish Head Immort Ale (the store had all new Dogfish seasonals, how could I pass up? If they disappear, they're often gone forever!)

Thank God Science is Kept On A Leash

I don't want to upset anybody needlessly, but I've seen the future, and we're not in it.

I'm not one of those paranoid techno-phobes who can't stand the fact that science makes our food tastier, our water dirtier (and then cleaner!) and our children taller and more big-breasted at an earlier age, but there is one arm of science I live in fear of, and that's robotics. The robot featured here is named QRIO, which is robot-ese for, "I taste your nightmares", and it's a prototype that God saw fit to strike down, Babel style, before it could tear the similarly adorable Japanese people to pieces.

I think the most frightening aspect of QRIO, besides it's obvious thirst for the blood of the innocent, is the way it appears to be a poet-philosopher. It has cataloged the likes and dislikes of puppies, cats and hawks, but isn't satisfied with this knowledge. It analyzes systems and emergent behavior, demanding an answer to the age-old question, "The forest looked up and what did it say?" You really think a robot that has already learned (or clearly, is still learning) to understand a forest is going to be satisfied writing haikus for the rest of its unnatural life? I contend it is not, and that we have only one hope. Bomb the room containing the QRIO and those brave children. Their deaths will be quicker by our hand than by the unfeeling metallic pincers that have a grip on their future.

"The forest looked up and what did it say?" is the launch-code for SkyNet, I guarantee it.

I just watched it again, and I think it scares me more every time. It said, "I want lots of friends."

It doesn't take a degree in Robot Psychology to know the words, "to adorn my walls as trophies," were the unspoken postscript to that sentence.

I'll buy he might be cute and cuddly now, (I have, after all, seen him dance) but after a few years of being treated like someone's toy? He's going to have a chip on his shoulder that's spelled ICBM

Ripped From The Headlines #1

This is why my friend Corey and I don't have a regularly scheduled webcomic:

I Was Away, but...

Now I'm back.  I had a jaunt to Chicago, and then a smattering of out-of-town company that has kept me insanely busy.

Look forward to a Wednesday posting, I dare you.

In the meantime, something I am excited for: 

Review #8 - Kiss Her Goodbye

Kiss Her Goodbye (or Why I Love Monsters and Revenge)

Why so many Hard Case Crime books? Certainly there's a reason beyond, "I've fallen behind on my reading count and can knock one of these out on two days' worth of subway-commute to work," isn't there? Sure, they're light and quick reads, and pure and utter pulp, and that's a massive part of the appeal, but there's something more. Something in pulp speaks to me. Something in pulp is fucking street-gospel, and it shoots straight in my black third eye and reveals the truth of the world to me in ways Italo Calvino and Salman Rushdie can only dream of doing. Pulp is not only worth doing, it may be the only thing worth doing.

Kiss Her Goodbye has what can be categorized as a liberal borrowing of Get Carter. You know the drill: Tough mob enforcer's daughter winds up dead, apparent suicide. Hero, if he can really be given such a qualitative moniker, decides something isn't right with all this and starts turning over stones to find out what's under them. Inevitably he turns over some very dangerous stones, and something underneath strikes instead of scuttles. It's not the most original plot in the world, but so what? The fact of the matter is, I love this story. I've heard it tons of times, in comics, movies and books, and I won't be satisfied until I've seen the Twitter-fiction version of it, because it's the culmination of my favorite themes: Monster has chance to be happy. Chance is snatched from him. He wreaks holy Hell on all involved.

Ever since I was little, I've had a very strong affiliation with the bestial. Doctor Hank McCoy was my favorite X-Man, King Kong my favorite Giant Monster, Frankenstein and The Wolfman my favorite classic monsters. While some would say it's because I'm possessed of a singularly hirsute nature, and feel commonality with them in this capacity, I instead point to the fact that they are outcasts. Unable to help what they are, despised by their fellow men, only wanting one chance at happiness. Alan Moore's version of Edward Hyde falls into this category, in perhaps my favorite summation of the archetype. King Kong wants the girl, is told he can't have her and gets killed for it. They're not all big animals deserving of pity, Carter was a nasty piece of work, vicious and cruel, but he has a heart, and he's given it to his niece, and when she turns up dead, he's going to know why. Similarly, the main character in Kiss Her Goodbye is disgusting- he sleeps with hookers, does drugs, beats the shit out of people that owe his employer money, ignores his wife, and though he loves his daughter, doesn't know a damn thing about her. But she's what's in his heart, and once she's gone, he's going to know why. I think it's this paradox that keeps me so intrigued, because by all accounts, these men should be dead inside, or have their passions invested in some inanimate object such as drugs or money, but they finally get this one connection only to have it snatched away. I think that's the main motivation behind Walker's actions in the movie Point Blank, not the ninety-three thousand dollars, but instead the fact that his best friend and wife betrayed him. He demands his money as a mantra throughout the film, but when it's finally in his reach, he doesn't take it, finally satisfied that instead, he's been paid in justice.

Redemption, that's what it's all boiling down to. These men feel that if they can fix this one mistake, it's going to cancel out the bad they've done. They may not state this as their reason for it, but it's what's driving them. Revenge stories are always the most fascinating to me. My favorite book of all time is The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas, and it is the archetypal revenge tale. A man has his life ruined, is sent to prison, but while there, finds a way to get revenge on those who tore apart everything he loved. He returns, sets his plan in action, and finally has to face the conflict within himself when he sees the effect his revenge is having on the woman he loves. Will he give up his revenge and find happiness with her, or will he let it destroy him? That's the kind of question that can hook you into further reading. I hope to never have to answer it myself, but if I do, I'm almost positive I'm going to have to destroy everything as a matter of principle.

Kiss Her Goodbye by Allan Guthrie: B+

It's got cliches galore, and of course you know who's behind everything and what they did, and the main character is slightly daft to not pick up on it as soon as you do, but hey, it's got bravado and swagger and fulfills all of my requirements for great literature: That somebody gets what's coming to them.

Minor Layout Changes

I'm fooling around with the formatting, trying to find a layout more pleasing to the eye, but my html knowledge is, shall we say, limited.

I've republished the last review, #7, with a centered picture above the post, and tab breaks inserted at the beginning of each paragraph.  It may show up in your RSS feed.  It may not.  Nothing major was changed about it.

Please resume your regularly scheduled day.

I Live Here

Review #7 - Voyage Along The Horizon

This week, we're trying something a little different.

Javier Marias' novel Voyage Along The Horizon, recently translated and published in America by Believer, a subsidiary of the nobel McSweeney's publishing enterprise, is a fascinating homage to the adventure novels (Seawolf comes to mind, as does really, any Jack London) of the late nineteenth century.  Written in the earlier years of Marias' life, published when he was twenty-two (and even then, his second novel!), it seems a much mature work than one should be capable of at that age, urging me to seek out the remainder of his body of work.

Fascinatingly, the book concerns the reading of a novel, also titled Voyage Along The Horizon, that a gentleman intends to publish, having discovered it among his deceased friend's effects, and wishing to bring him posthumous renown.  It is read out loud to two parties, one interested, the other, our framing narrator, less so.  Within this story, already contained in our framing story, are other stories, within stories within stories and so on, to the effect of a collection of Russian stacking dolls.  The stories are all immediately engaging, and leave you in suspense for what's happening one layer above you while you read through the currently engrossing tale preventing you from returning to the mystery already laid out in front of you.

Of particular interest is the fact that two nights ago I attended a screening of The Saragossa Manuscript, a Polish film from the 1960s documented to be a personal favorite of Coppola, Scorsese, Jerry Garcia, and Neil Gaiman.  Based on a novel published in 1815, unfinished after the sudden (and decidedly strange) suicide of its author, this film, set in Spain, concerns two opposing soldiers who stumble upon a manuscript in an inn in the middle of an intense battle, and sit down together, as if old friends, and begin to pore over the tale told within.  Realizing it concerns the grandfather of one of the two soldiers, their interest heightens, and they delve into the passages, no longer heeding the cannon-fire raging around them.

A simple framing narrative gives way to more Russian stacking dolls, as the story focuses on a Spanish captain of the Waloon Guard, who is searching for a short pass through the mountains.  When he stays the night at an abandoned inn, he finds there are two ghostly women waiting for him, and after a strange encounter, wakes up at the foot of the gallows beneath two hanged men.  His adventures in the country-side continue, and each time, he blacks out encountering a new visage of the two women, and wakes up beneath the gallows.  Soon, he encounters others who have stories to tell, and characters in their stories have further fables to reveal, and anecdotes to share.  Eventually, captured by the Inquisition, the captain of the guard finds himself fortunate enough to be saved by a Qabbalist, who gives him sanctuary.  When a gypsy captain arrives, he begins to regale them with tales of his life, as they eat dinner, and again, the tales stack like turtle shells all the way down.  They range from ghost stories to love stories to morality plays and back, and eventually the characters start to intertwine, as the Waloon captain's father makes an appearance in the gypsy captain's tale.

Panscheco, a man driven mad by the two ghostly sisters, tells his tale, as full of tragedy and heartbreak, and ruthlessness as the tale Victor Arledge relates to the crew of the Tallahassee in Voyage about their Captain Kerrigan, explaining the behavior that has confined him to his cabin under guard.  Similarly, the tales focus on the privileged, a high-ranking officer, and artists and poets, who contrast with those they interact with, be it gypsys, holy men, or sailors.

The narrator of Voyage Along the Horizon (the novel within the novel, that is), is decidedly unreliable, as he was not on the strange sea voyage that is the subject of the book, and certain details begin to not add up, and are commented on within the framing device.  The Manuscript found in Saragossa is similarly untrustworthy, as, even if it does present everything that happened at face value, there is strong insinuation that the majority of the events are staged for the benefit of the Waloon captain, and the narrator who wrote the manuscript would have been aware of this, as he may have been the one who set the extraordinary chain of events in motion.

A surrealist and strange ending, wherein our captain literally rides away into the sunset after encountering himself, leaves us with the same idea that it's the stories that are important, not the endings, that we get from Voyage Along The Horizon.

The characters of Voyage and The Saragossa Manuscript, and the tales they tell, are of more importance than the actual framing device.  These tales are how the main characters while away their evenings, and it's how we should too.  In a similar fashion, The Canterbury Tales has no ending, as it also, was unfinished.

"The end of a novel isn't usually very important.  In fact, people never seem to remember the endings of novels and movies.  Conclusions and final explanations are often the most irrelevant- and disappointing- parts of a novel.  What counts the most- and what we remember the most- is the atmosphere, the style, the path, the journey, and the world in which we have immersed ourselves for a few hours or a few days while reading a novel or watching a movie.  What matters, then, is the journey along the horizon- in other words, the journey that never ends." - Javier Marias

Voyage Along the Horizon: A

The Saragossa Manuscript: A

Book Review #6 - Scalped Volume 1: Indian Country - Jason Aaron

Still don't have my pen tablet pen, so bear with one last standard picture here:

Also: If I'm going to start including comics collection reviews in here, I'm going to overshoot my 52, so consider yourself lucky.  I did read a novel this week, but I was more excited about this, so the novel review will get published later.

Indian Country, the first collection of Scalped, Jason Aaron's first ongoing series, published by the fine people (with who I am personally angry for other reasons) at Vertigo, is vicious, ugly, stomach-turning, and pants-wettingly awesome.

Jason Aaron, who will, even if Scalped somehow self-destructs, be remembered for his excellent mini-series The Other Side, about two young men on opposite sides in the Vietnam War, delivers nothing but peak performances on every page.

The basic premise behind the series is that Dashiell Bad Horse, formerly of the Reservation, has returned home after ten years, and sets about starting trouble.  Chief Red Crow, former criminal and Indian rights activist, and now respectable leader of the Oglala Sioux nation, is opening a brand new casino, and sees potential in young Dash to help him run the place with an iron fist.  But Dash, like so many wonderful characters in this book, has plans of his own.

What starts out as mildly confusing quickly coagulates into a taut suspense-filled piece of crime fiction.  We're introduced to the various factions, the Indian rights activists, the FBI, the crime syndicate, the tribal council, the little meth labs trying to operate on Res soil and so on, and the best part is, they all feel real.  The whole book shows a dramatic ecosystem wherein each faction feels necessary and has actions that cause repercussions for everyone.

Crime is the distillation of The American Dream, and to take what can arguably be labeled as a group of people who had The American Dream stolen out from under them, and then watch them scrabble to get it back by any means necessary is the root of some damn fine compelling drama.

R.M. Guera's art has been called ugly, which I don't think deserves to even be commented on, but other people have commented that they can't tell characters apart.  Granted, this can be a huge problem in some comics, and since it's a primarily visual medium, it can cause all sorts of headaches.  I, however, don't see that happening here.  Once you've been introduced to the characters, and see them interacting, I think it's extremely easy to tell them apart.  The color palette is extremely muted, giving way to primarily earth-tones to properly represent the drab prairie environment.  The less than flattering figures and art style are a stylistic choice in and of themselves, as this is a vicious and ugly place.  

Less important in a collection than in singles is the covers to each issue, but they're reprinted faithfully in the book, and deserve to be noted.  Jock, a favorite artist of mine (see the majority of The Losers by Jock and Andy Diggle), is the cover artist for the series, and each one screams, "BUY ME!"  They're the kind of pieces you could hang on your wall once you stripped the title off.  I'm hoping Vertigo publishes an art book of their covers like they did with Glen Fabry's Preacher covers.

All in all, definitely worth checking out for any fans of crime fiction, non-superhero comics, or those interested in life on the Reservation.

Grade: A

Just trying out a blogpost from a Dashboard widget for increased productivity.

Also, as Brent and I have discussed, the overwhelming stalwartness of Penny Arcade is derived from their ability to deliver content, regardless of quality, on a consistent basis.  As such, this blog will be updated every Wednesday by 5:00PM EST.

Book Review #5 - Making Comics by Scott McCloud

Making Comics by Scott McCloud is the flipside to his seminal work, Understanding Comics.  Whereas Understanding Comics approached visual narrative (or sequential art, or graphic novels, or comics; the proper term for the medium is as varied as the content itself) from the perspective of an audience member new to the form, explaining the ideas behind how comics function when you read them on the page, and illustrating how best to enjoy them (while sometimes oversimplifying and sometimes overthinking), Making Comics assumes the reader is familiar with these ideas, and instead tackles the why behind these techniques.  It is a given that the better an artist understands how certain methods function, the better he'll be able to use such methods, and Making Comics lays bare all the techniques of the industry (although not all the artistic techniques one can employ, as that would be a book in and of itself, hopefully written by someone with more qualifications in the field than Scott McCloud; for while he's eminently qualified to write about comics, I'd rather have a traditional artist discuss visual theory).

Broken up into chapters capped off by reviews and exercises, Making Comics operates as a workbook of sorts, allowing you to get a feel for the basics of the medium before starting a game of stacking shells.  While I haven't done the exercises (I'm still reading and teaching myself from a drawing book), they do seem well thought out, and include analysis of what you should be getting out of each exercise, in effect allowing you to grade yourself on your own progress.

The main gripe I had with the book fades in retrospection.  I disliked that it seemed to focus primarily on art and layout tricks to the page, and ignored story, but I realize that may be for the better.  To learn about story, you should read a book on story, and then combine that knowledge with this book to figure out how best to lay it out for the comics medium.  While frustrating for those of us with little illustration ability, who prefer to write and have others illustrate, this is in actuality immensely helpful, as a full comics script needs to be laid out in the writer's head first, before the artist touches pencil (or coal, brush or mouse) to paper.

Scott's highly visual examples have certainly evolved over the years since Understanding Comics was published, and the whole book has a cohesive feel to it.  The only downside is Scott tends to digress and retread a lot of material he covers in Understanding Comics, and while I appreciate the material needs to be known to make sense of the techniques, I thought it would have been safe to assume anyone purchasing Making Comics has read, or will go track down Understanding Comics.

Overall Grade: B+

Book Review #4 - America: The Book

America: The Book

This satirical take on the American Democratic Process is that wonderful kind of comedy that depresses while it entertains.  Every page has a laugh-out-loud joke, but the guffaw is often followed by a sad moment of silence when you realize that most of its points are extremely valid.  Reminded by Sage Francis that, "It's not love it or leave it, it's change it or lose it," America: The Book is a worthwhile tome for everyone who wants to see the obvious and not-so-obvious faults of our great nation laid bare and ridiculed like an 8th grade bully.

The textbook layout is an inspired design, as the questions at the end of each chapter can be some of the best parts of the book, and they've emulated the style of a social studies book perfectly, even including little "Were You Aware?" sidebars and diagrams of how the Bill of Rights helps you!

While holding an admittedly liberal slant (it's from the writers of The Daily Show, what do you want?), the comedy attacks both sides of the aisle, frequently calling out everybody on their bullshit, from the buffoon that is George Bush to the screeching harpy that is Hillary Clinton.

My only complaint is its relatively short length.  It reads like a textbook, and that means lots of paragraph breaks, chapter headings and pictures that split up the flow.  The last chapter is woefully short, and the book could have used padding in most places.  The dual/duel Media chapters are absolutely wonderful, however, and there's even a riff on the "What's your pornstar name?" formula known to children across the country.

All in all, a solid purchase.  Factor in the fact that you can get it at Barnes and Noble for $7 right now, and you'd be a sucker not to pick a copy up.

Grade: A

Book Review #3 - Storm of Swords

Let's start by establishing that I hate fantasy.  I think the genre has had nothing new to say since Tolkien sent a handful of hobbits on their way to Mordor, and even that I feel wasn't said as well as it could have been.  If you look at the Fantasy section (in such a sad mutual state as Sci-Fi that they often share shelf-space, now) you see row after row of really boring and cliche painted covers, showing a party that consists of a balanced Dungeons and Dragons group.  Sometimes there may be a Dark Elf with a badass name, sometimes a sword passed down through a lineage of great and noble heroes.  It's dull, it's repetitive, and it sells like hotcakes to a certain unwashed crowd of basement-dwellers.

A Storm of Swords is none of those things.  The third book in George R.R. Martin's critically acclaimed Song of Ice and Fire series, it chronicles the goings on in the kingdom of Westeros, a fantasy kingdom so well-realized it may as well have been real.

Without spoiling the first two books, I can merely say that the book takes place during a time of great unrest in Westeros, as five potential kings vie for control of the land.  In the meantime, the Wall in the North, built hundreds of years ago to keep out barbarian invaders, may soon fall.

What's awesome about this series is the fact that every chapter is from a different characters point of view, and while you may utterly despise some characters, such as Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer, when you read chapters from their point of view, you see why they do what they do, and while they're still horrible monstrous people, they're not that way needlessly.

The world is full of pageantry and noble families, and it can be a little confusing at first to learn the great houses, but every single character is well-developed and every plot-point amazingly well-thought out.

One of my favorite things about this world is that it never quite answers the question, "Is there magic?"  People in the world believe there is magic, but the Maesters (the educated doctor-types) have rational explanations for all the old stories, and scoff at superstitions such as belief in The Others (an awesome use of the theme of Us Vs. Them that came years before Lost was ever thought up) and the idea of dragons as historically extinct creatures.

The all out best thing about this series, however, is George R. R. Martin's absolute ruthlessness.  In the same way that Rome doesn't play favorites, A Song of Ice and Fire will make you love somebody and then kill them off without a second thought.  George's writing style isn't overly flowery, though the dialogue can affect that trait when it's being delivered by the high-born individuals who want to appear pompous.

The first book in the series is A Game of Thrones and it is followed by the even longer Clash of Kings.  Storm is the longest in the series, clocking in at over 1,000 pages, but as with thick classics like Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrel, the further in you get, the faster it seems to go, and you dread the dwindling page count because it means the ride is almost over.

All in all, I can't recommend this series enough.  It's getting the small screen treatment by HBO, with each book lasting a full season, and should be the best thing about 2009.

Overall Grade: A (I haven't given anything too low a score yet, which is partially because I tend to pick things I know I'm going to enjoy, but don't worry, I'm in the middle of a stinker right now)

Book Review #2

Fade To Blonde - Max Phillips

This may feature every single Hard Case Crime book by the time this experiment is over, as the second week of the year finds me reading Fade To Blonde.  The cover painting, by Gregory Manchess, features a femme fatale clutching a gun out of sight while covering herself with a sheet in response to a man appearing in the doorway.  The tagline, "She was a Little Taste of Heaven... And A One-Way Ticket To Hell!" is as campy as they can get, but the story inside is shockingly contemporary, notwithstanding its early 1950s setting.

Ray Corson gets hired by a blonde to protect her from a man who has been threatening her.  Of course, when the man's as crazy as Lance Halliday, the best defense might be a murderous offense.  But Lance is connected, so Ray might have to get a little respect himself before he dirties his hands.  An aspiring screenwriter, Ray looks for details, and the ones he notices don't thrill him.

The book is written using Ray as the first-person narrator, and excels at stylish wordsmithing.  It reads as if Ernest Hemingway was somehow more anti-social than he was.  The whole thing reads like it invented writing, and you don't want it to end.  When it does though, it ends with a satisfying twist that you kick yourself for not getting, after all, Ray did, and he saw the same things he told you about.  One of the best things about these Hard Case Crime books, besides their sheer awesomeness, is the fact that they cost $6.00, making it a no-brainer to grab one at the bookstore.  Their compact size makes them ideal for stuffing in your pocket when you go out to read a chapter or two when you've got a moment to spare.

Overall Grade: A-

Book Review One

Say It With Bullets - Richard Powell

Published by the Hard Case Crime imprint, you're virtually guaranteed a rollicking pulp tale, and Say It With Bullets does anything but disappoint.  The story focuses on Bill Wayne, formerly of the Army's Air Force in WWII.  Four years ago, his former army buddies shot him and left him for dead in China.  Now Bill's on a scenic tour through the West to have a little chat with each of them, but somebody's knocking them off as he gets near them, and Bill's almost certain it isn't himself.  To complicate matters, the guide to the scenic tour he's using as an alibi for his trip seems to have taken an unhealthy interest in his little vacation.  When the bullets start flying and the bodies start piling up, more questions get raised than answers found.

Written with a sharp wit, the third-person narration never devolves into winking at the camera.  It only reveals to us what Bill knows, which is fantastically frustrating, as we get a complete sense of the nightmare Bill's willingly swaggered into.  Bill, as a main character, is extremely relatable, even for a man bent on hunting down and killing his old friends.  The supporting characters, such as the tour guide and the Deputy tracking him down, are richly illustrated and believable, and the dialogue is never seen as a series of questions and answers.  Single lines of dialogue give us awesome clues as to what might really be going on, while even the four army buddies are presented as well-rounded people, never just simple targets to eliminate one by one.

The breakneck speed of the prose and the relatively short length (just under 250 pages) means you can finish this one on a relaxed weekend, or a few days commute on the subway.  Plus, there's the added bonus of the cover painting by Michael Koelsch, replete with Bill and Holly The Tour Guide pointing a gun off-screen.  The design package of this entire imprint calls to mind the awesome pulp mass market paperbacks of yesteryear, and the kitschy tagline above the title, "When It's Time To Say Goodbye..." might make buyers wary, but rest assured, this is a solid story, well told.

Overall Grade: A-

Other Uses

The other part of this blog is to track my progress in my 52 Books in 52 Weeks project.

I'll be reading an average of a book a week, and posting reviews of every damn one.  So check back often (... or weekly, as it were) for breathtaking, breakneck book reviews ranging from hard-hitting crime novels to anthologies of literary criticisms to books on string theory to Edith Wharton.  It's all here, and I'm reading it so you don't have to.