The Jump-Zone (Short Story) Part 1

“So…yup. That’s my story,” I said. “All I want is to spend the rest of my life with the woman I am endlessly in love with but–freaking–Baron Von Jump-Zone won’t even let me leave the place!”

“Have you maybe asked him to leave you alone?” Said the nine-year-old girl in front of me.

“Oh, I’ve tried! I’ve asked him multiple times in the past to stop flirting with May, to stop trying to get between us so he could have her for himself. He never really liked me, not even when I first started working here. His way of training new employees basically consists of “You’re doing it wrong!” and “I’m in charge here!” The only thing that made working in this place bearable was May. And when we began dating…” I made a conspiratorial gesture. “That’s when he really ramped up his assholery…” I trailed off, realizing I said “assholery” in front of a nine-year-old girl. I glanced at her apologetically.

“It’s okay. I hear worse at home.” She said.

That made me a little concerned, but, okay. I shrugged and said: “Fair enough. Well…yeah. After I started dating May he really took his jerkiness,” I caught a humorous smile on her face at that. “…to a whole new level. He’s pretty bad but, literally, he does not treat me the same way he treats the other workers. He’s a jealous, cynical, lonely, pompous, and, above all, jerky little dip head!”

The girl started to giggling hysterically. I was happy to make her laugh, it’s been a personal pleasure of mine since I was born, but I also didn’t really mean to? I don’t know, everything I’ve said about Patrick Crazy Survowski is true and more, but I never could help myself around children. To me, making people laugh is like hearing angels sing.

At that moment I had to cover my ears when a scream like that of a banshee sounded somewhere below the playground. Yes, I’m in a playground. An indoor one specifically, like the ones that are sometimes in a fast-food restaurant such as McDonald’s or Carl’s Jr. Only much bigger and much more crowded. And in a trampoline park.

Sounded like some kid was pitching a fit at the base of the playground, even the little girl covered her ears to escape the monstrous scream. Meanwhile, children of various ages swarmed through our netted box of colors. Thin, multicolored, punching-bag-esque blocks hung from the ceiling of the “room” that the children were gladly punching furiously or trying to climb to touch the top of the place. A cacophony of noise was all around, there was screaming, crying, laughing, shouting, and the air was pungent with the smell of sweaty skin and, what I believed to be, fart.

We uncovered our ears once the volume was at an acceptable rate, which, in this place, meant speaking at near shouting range.

“Damn it’s loud in here. Oh shit, I–no, shit…no! I…shit…”

This time she laughed. Really laughed. It was a warm, playful sound with the high pitch expected in someone her age. A tiny, ironic smile wormed it’s way around my face. Even when I wasn’t trying I could still make people laugh. But I wasn’t going to complain. Like I said; angles singing.

Her laugh faded into periodic giggles when she asked; “Why do you want to marry her?”

The question took me a little off guard, and I suddenly felt the weight of the ring in my pocket again. Of course, I want to do it because I’m in love with her. I want to keep her strength and spirit in my life. I want to keep her warm smile and loving hugs. She makes me feel like I can do anything, and I want that in every moment that I’m living. I also want to do it because I need to save what we have. Lately things have been…getting complicated. I don’t want to lose this, I can’t. The ring in my pocket is my saving grace.

That’s a lot for a kid to understand though, so, after a pause, I shrugged and said; “Because I love her.”

She seemed to dwell on that. Her eyes drifted downward and her head tilted to the side in a thoughtful way. She looked back up at me and asked; “What’s that like?”

Jeez…How does anyone explain it in words? Especially to a nine-year-old.

I took in a deep breath and blew it out through my lips, then said, smiling hesitantly; “You’ll learn when you’re older.”

She rolled her eyes and said; “My parents say that all the time!”

“Well…some things you–just–can’t understand until your older.”

“Why?”

“The heck if I know.”

A kid landed hard next to me at that moment and rolled into a square hole at the corner of the place, laughing the whole way. Another kid, his friend I assumed, chased after him by jumping into the hole. I picked an interesting place to have a conversation like this. Still, I didn’t have much other choice. At least, not one as comfortable as here (for all its flaws).

“Hey! Don’t do that! You hear me! No Rolling Down The Holes!” The voice came from the square hole and it carried through the rest of the place. I felt the little girl stiffen in fear next to me. It was a harsh voice in that tone, and it even made me feel intimidated. Then a shrill of fear coursed through my body; it did sound pretty close to Patrick’s voice, and if it was him then I was screwed.

A head poked through the hole. A head with wily red hair instead of pitch black. Round, goofy eyes instead of sharp. And his jaw couldn’t even cut through water, whereas Patrick’s would flat-out split an ocean in two.

No. As bad as it would’ve been if Patrick found me here, this was in some ways worse. This was Roddy Benstein; trampoline enthusiast and the ultimate suck-up.

“He’s Here!” He exclaimed when he saw me. Though he doesn’t have the chin, his voice could blow up a mansion if taken at the right frequency. It cut through the energetic noise of the park, even startling me, and I felt the girl flinch at my side. “I Found Him! He’s here…!” Roddy’s voice faded into the discordance as he disappeared back to where he came from, and I knew I needed to get the hell out of there.

“Time to go! Good talk kid!” I leapt up, clutching the ring-box in my pocket. It had a smooth, silky feel to it; which I found oddly comforting. Before I could get far, I felt an abrupt drag on the arm of my jacket.

“Hold on!” The girl said. “Go that way!”

She indicated the hole Roddy had peeked his head out from. I felt a mixture of confusion and frustration toward her and, in part, at myself for listening. I should be going! I don’t have time to listen to a kid!

“Look I appreciate it but I don’t have time for this! I have to–“

“IT’S A SHORT CUT!”

Things suddenly went quiet around us, her voice reverberating throughout the grounds. You’d think my ears would be used to being pierced by any kind of noise by this point. They’re not.

She cleared her throat. “Sorry, I get easily annoyed when someone doesn’t listen. It’s a short cut.”

“What?” I asked as the noise picked back up, the silence barely lasting a second, and dropped my palms from my ears.

“It’s a short cut! It’ll take you to the ground quicker!”

“Roddy…the red-haired guy…he came up that way! Wouldn’t the others too?”

“I’ll make a distraction!” She said with a sly smile. “Go, Go!”

She dashed away toward one of the side exits, taking her to another segment of the playground.

“What–Hey! You’re Not…” She’s gone.

Okay. Quick stock of my situation. I’m in an indoor trampoline park to ask my coworker girlfriend to marry me, but got chased into the kids playground by my psychotic and jealous manager. But now I’ve been found and I’m standing stiff as Patrick and his cronies come to get me and the little girl I’ve been conversing with for the past…however long it’s been, has just taken off to “distract” them.

What a day…

I quickly decided to roll with it and ran to the square hole. May has the closing shift, about four-a-clock to eleven-a-clock. My shift ended about an hour ago, at the least anyway. If that’s the case, depending on what traffic is like (usually pretty terrible) it should take her forty or fifty minutes to get here. Once I’m out of the playground, I’ll find another place to hide until she arrives at the park. Then I’ll pop the question and give Patrick a solid middle-finger as we walk off into the sunset together. First things first; hide. And, as risky as it is, I think I know a place to go for that. I approached the hole and jumped…

And got down to waist length before landing on the next segment of the tunnel.

Right, this is a kids playground.

I squatted down to my knees and pulled my upper body down through the hole to meet the rest of me. The next hole was directly in front of me and I squirmed toward it, letting myself slide down the tunnel like a slug sliming its way over some jagged rocks. Something that I didn’t consider is that, at an angle anyways, the slug probably wouldn’t slide over the rocks, it’d tumble down them. Once I slid into the next segment I instantly fell into the next one, and then the next one, and then the next one! On my way down I crashed into some kids making their way up the tunnel and we all fell to the base of the playground together. I untangled myself from them and then apologized several times as they started to climb up again, shooting me dirty looks and even flipping me off. I felt a little ashamed but also a little annoyed; I mean, what good parent allows their child to flip the bird to someone? I picked myself up, shrugging off the incident. I was in an entryway of the playground, two wiry walls extended before me with a netted ceiling and a cushiony, blue floor mat. I looked up and saw little else than faint outlines of children crisscrossing in a chaotic mess through cloth-lined surfaces.

“Okay,” I said, adjusting my jacket and shirt more comfortably. “Let’s get to the maze.”

The Jump-Zone was a massive, multi-sectioned indoor park with shades of various colors illuminated by ceiling lights. I could see the Battle-Pit just to the left of me and straight-on towards the other end of the park was the actual trampoline park; a series of raised platforms arranged in a Super Mario Bros mini-game way. I started for the left, towards the trampoline maze.

“Nathan…STOP!” An out-of-breath voice called out and startled me. A large woman wearing the traditional blue vest and orange t-shirt that most employees at the park wear stopped right in front of me, keeping me from moving any further. She hunched forward and grabbed her knees, panting furiously. I actually knew who this was, it was Jen! She gave me and May a Valentines box of condoms for our one year anniversary (we started dating on Valentines, and needless to say I don’t think any of us laughed so hard in our lives when she gave us that box).

“Jen? Are you okay?” I asked with genuine worry. She wasn’t one for a work out, she was easily the most easygoing and sensitive person I’d ever known. And I thought she was going to cough out her lungs she was panting so hard.

“No! Freaking Patrick…had me check this side of the…place…to see if you escaped…” A hard coughing fit kept her from saying any more.

“Where were you when he told you to do that?” I asked.

“AT THE ROCK CLIMBING WALL…”

“Are you kidding me!?”

“No. I tried to suggest someone else, but apparently everyone’s either searching the playground or taking care of a kid that broke her leg.”

A kid that broke her leg? Wait…

“And,” She continued. “Apparently, I could use the ‘exercise’.” 

My jaw dropped. “What a prick!”

She nodded agreeably and said; “I saw you coming out of this entrance and booked it!”

“Come on, Jen, don’t do this. I just want to be with May.”

“I know, but what do you want me to do? I don’t do this, I get fired, and then I’ll have a mountain debt and bills to pay off.”

“Jennifer!” Roddy projected as he ran up to us. “Bring him to Patrick already!”

“You know what Benny,” I said, tired of this guy and tired of his boss. “You might as well have sex with the guy with how much you’re already sucking up to him!”

“Screw you, asshole! And Stop Calling Me BENNY!”

“Stop! Both of You!” Jen stepped slightly between us, not quite settling into the middle-man but nearing it. “You know what, Roddy? Why should I?”

“What do you mean why should you? Survowski–“

“Is a pretentious prick and the only thing that’s kept me here is Nate and May and Sylvie,” The last one was the cafeteria dishwasher. She’s pretty cool. “Since day one he has done nothing but shame me for my size and I’ve had to watch as he disrespected everyone around me with the same amount of sneer. And you absolutely suck up to him as it all happens! You’re a lousy bootlicker and a weasel! I’m going to help with that kid and then I’m going to go home and binge Bridgerton with a box of my favorite cupcakes!”

And with that, she made to leave. But not before turning to me and asking quietly; “Do you and May need more…y’know…”

“I mean…y-yes…?”

She winked and took off. There was energy and confidence in the way she strutted towards the medical center that somewhat eased my concerns over her supposed mountains of debt and bills. I’m pretty sure she had children too. Still, knowing Jen, she’d probably be fine. Though May will be sad to hear she left.

I watched her go, stunned and awed by her display. Then I slowly became aware of Roddy giving me the evil eye from my periphery. He raised his eyebrows and perked his lips at me in a mocking, ‘dare you to…’ way.

“Benstein! What’re you doing!?”

There it is. The voice of the devil himself. I turned to see a looming figure with stark black hair looking down at us from one of the upper levels of the playground. He was actually on his knees because the space was too small for his size. And I think he had to hunch down a little as his head seemed disproportionately close to his shoulders. I stifled a laugh but I don’t think I could contain the grin.

“Bring him to me!” Patrick commanded. “No! Actually, keep him there! I’m coming!”

No better cue to leave. While Roddy was distracted by the orders of his master, I booked it anywhere that wasn’t his or Patrick’s general vicinity.

“Nathaniel Cleaver, You get back here!” Roddy screamed from behind me.

I weaved through crowds of people, all of whom were eying me strangely as we ran past. It was probably a little odd to watch the employees of the place chase each other around like this. In fact, this probably won’t look good for the business. But I’m not stopping, and Patrick definitely isn’t going to stop either. So I continued to run, looking for any way to surpass Roddy. I ascended a ramp that led to a large obstacle course full of colored balls; obstacles (of course); and a ludicrous horde of children. I could perhaps lose him in the courses ball pit, but it doesn’t go very deep, and I don’t want to risk getting stomped on by an army of hellions.

When I looked to my left, I briefly paused where I was, which was, I think, about halfway across the ascended floor of the park. What I was thinking probably wouldn’t work, but either way it wouldn’t be good for Roddy since the pit of foamy squares surrounding the Battle-Pit were definitely deep enough. I ran to the railing and leaped over them Spider-Man style, then I gunned it for the Battle-Pit. I think Roddy jumped over the railing as well, not before yelling an obscenity at me of course, and then I heard his projective tone behind me bellow “OW! DAMMIT!” The urge to look back was hard to resist but I resisted, and either way I grinned a very satisfied grin.

The Battle-Pit is a fifteen-diameter pit filled with blocks of foam that come in shades of purple, blue, and black. That might be the first thing someone sees, the second would be the walkways meeting the edge of the pit that also act as supports for a thin, red beam. There’s enough foot-room on the beam that one could potentially stand on it without having to wave their arms for balance. A person trying to stand on it while avoiding being hit by their opponents advances, however, that’s a different story.

I ran up the walkway and slipped on the most well-fitting pieces of armor that I could, all while moving across the beam to the other side. Definitely not an easy thing to do, but I have surprisingly good balance. And it’s worth it; the war staffs look like they could knock a gorilla out cold. I grabbed one on the other side of the pit, a large, double-sided staff with red, matty surfaces on both ends. Still fitting into my armor (trying to put on safety gear while keeping balance on thin land was like trying to tend a relentless migraine), and turned to see Roddy all armored up and ready with his own weapon.

“You sure you want to play this game Cleaver?” Roddy asked condescendingly from the other side. “Everyone knows you stink at this. You couldn’t even beat Sylvie!”

“That’s not fair! Sylvie spends all day juggling dishes, the girl has the agility of a puma! She’s also…shockingly strong.”

Truth be told though I can’t beat anyone in the Battle-Pit for the life of me. But, as much as I’m going to try my damndest to best Roddy at this, either way I’ll still win.

I slipped on my helmet, which felt uncomfortably tight around my head, but I dealt with it and walked across the thin plank, stopping halfway. Roddy did likewise, shaking his head with a cocky smile. The jackass is almost as arrogant as Patrick.

We were about four metres from each other when he met me at the center of the plank. I could see in the background that some parents, as well as children and teens, were dumbfounded by the display. Some others seemed to be eagerly anticipating the show. We both took stances and I made the first strike towards his chest, lunging it forward like a javelin. He parried it to the side in one fluid motion with the bottom end of his weapon (technically there are no “ends” on these things, but I’ve gotta put it in a way that makes sense, right). When he fell back into stance, he instantly followed with a swing to my head. It was like my noggin got blasted by a gust of wind, and it caused me to lose a bit of balance. Roddy tried taking this opportunity and swung the other end of his weapon towards my back, likely hoping to topple me off into the sea of foam below. But I swung my leg in the opposite direction to get some leverage and kept my weapon in the air for balances sake. I pulled of the maneuver, Roddy’s weapon barely even grazing me, but when I had all two feet back on the plank I had to do some major stationary gymnastics to keep myself from falling over. I know that it’s just foam blocks beneath me, but I might as well have been staring down a chasm of horror. I nearly fell forward and I got a good look at the distance between me and the foam pit; it was high. Then, for one second, my gut dropped to my feet when I found myself having to find orientation so I don’t fall backwards. I hate falling into something backwards, I never know what to expect. I have eyes at the front of my head not back (though some back-of-head eyeballs would be pretty handy). I did manage to reorient myself, and I faced Roddy again with a determination that was fueled by both my pride and my fear that I would still be here when May came for work.

“Take him down, Benstein!” I heard Patrick’s crisp and deep voice from my right.

I glanced to see him leaning on the railing that surrounds the Battle-pit with two other cronies. I think one of them was Dennis, a lanky high-school kid that rotates between duties at the climbing wall, the playground, and the trampoline maze. And, to the other side of Patrick, was a petite girl with brown, flowy hair. Her features helped me to instantly recognize her as Sylvie, and I wondered what she was doing there. Then my heart dropped to the center of the Earth with the realization; that prickly bastard roped our sweet summer child into this mess!

Something crashed into the side of my face. the helmet assisted in blocking the impact, but I still found myself a little dazed and confused. Roddy had taken an opportunity to whack me while I was distracted.

“Give Up Cleaver!” Patrick yelled.

“Pay attention dumbass.” Roddy sneered at me.

“Just Fall Down And STAY Down!”

I’ve had it; “SCREW BOTH OF YOU!”

Yelling helped to clear my head, and as much as it pains me to give them credit, Roddy and Patrick also helped me to regain my focus. And once I did, I performed an epic triple spin where I lashed out at Roddy with my weapon every time I circled back to him. It’s a maneuver that’s meant to stun more than it is to completely outwit my opponent (and I totally didn’t make it up on the spot). It worked exceptionally well; Roddy tripped over and nearly fell off the beam. But by the grace that came from right out of nowhere, he latched on to the beam and hung for several seconds before pulling himself up and striking a balance on it again. His feet didn’t even graze a single block.

“Damn,” Roddy said. “That was actually good!”

“DON’T ENCOURAGE HIM YOU IDIOT!” Patrick chimed in.

Roddy went red and timid. These two really deserve each other.

On the plus side, Roddy’s weapon fell into the pit, so now I’ve got him at a disadvantage. A ball of light rose in my chest like the morning sun; my chances of winning this stupid thing for the first time ever have been higher than they ever have been before. This suck-up is mine!

I swung at his head for a little revenge topping my success, but he ducked down, maintaining balance, inched forward, shot himself up and kicked me flying onto my back, bouncing off the beam, and falling into the foam pit.

My world blacked out, with bobs of light peering through the cloud of black and purple and blue. The adrenaline rush from the days events still kept my blood flowing faster than a sports-car, but I also felt exhausted and a little winded from, once again, an utter defeat in the Battle-Pit (WHEN I WAS SO DAMN CLOSE!!). Overall, as much as I wanted to keep going, part of me welcomed the comfort of being swallowed up in this chasm of foam, their synthetic smell providing a strange sort of nostalgia.

“Go! Get Him Out!” The voice was slightly muffled but I still recognized it as Patrick’s. As much as my body pleaded for a break, I needed to move. Hopefully this brief period of relaxation will do me some kind of favor.

I stole a glance above the line of foam and saw that Roddy was wading through it to find me. Patrick was standing on the edge of the pit, watching intently. I noted that Sylvie and Dennis stood a few feet behind him, one or both looking nervous and showing it by pacing or lacing and unlacing their fingers. I dropped my head down and began to Burrow under the foam. A neat little trick I learned as a kid was the uncanny ability to be anywhere I wanted in a ball pit. Granted, I was in a foam-block pit, which did require alternate movements that slowed me down a little, but it didn’t make too much of a difference.

I don’t think this part will be as fun from my perspective, since I mostly did a lot of mole-digging during this time, so I’m going to give my best approximation of what Roddy was thinking while swimming around the pit in search of what would be his eventual doom:

He felt pride from beating the one called Cleaver. The fool thought he could beat the best there is at Battle-Pit, but no one can beat Roddy KissAss at the game. Except for May Holland. And Dennis Jones. Maybe even Sylvie lucas. And of course Patrick Survowski would beat him, he’s the greatest there ever was! One day, he’ll be assistant manager. Maybe then Patrick will see his unfettered potential and be so blinded by it that he’ll immediately make him the head manager. Then he’ll continue to kiss his way up the ladder even further until he’s CEO of the world’s weirdest trampoline park. Surely no one will deny him if he tells his…”superiors” exactly what they want to hear. He cringed at the word. No one was more superior than Roddy The Absolute Greatest Bestest Superior Man In The Whole Wide World. He would get Cleaver and then his hero Crazy Survowski will give him the attention he deserves. However, Roddy LegHumper was too lost in his thoughts to see a disturbance among the foam blocks. Something beneath them was slithering toward him. A great danger that was about to eat him whole. When he finally focused after being told to by Master Survowski, he saw the motion of the blocks; he saw that something was coming toward him. Roddy became very scared, he wanted to go back to his master standing on the edge of the pit. He would protect him, he knew it. But Roddy BootLicker stood his ground and commanded the creature, who he suspected was the Cleaver, to halt. It didn’t. It kept moving apropos. He told it to stop, backing away as he did. But it kept coming. Master Survowski told him to go get it. To wrestle it to death. So Roddy stayed where he was and waited for the Cleaver to come to him. It came closer, and closer, and Closer, And Closer, AND CLOSER! Roddy screamed in terror…but nothing happened. Where did it go? Master Survowski commanded Roddy to pull himself together and find the creature so he could have it for dinner and mount it’s head on his wall. Roddy obeyed and tried to find where the creature went. He then felt something on his leg, a pair of hands. He screamed as he was dragged under the sea of foam, never to be seen again.

A minute later I emerged from the pit, elation filling my chest. Roddy won’t be slowed down for long, but I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t deliciously satisfying. I felt the grin on my face stretch up to my ears and puffs of giggling escape my throat. Roddy KissAss is no more.

“YOU!” A roar from the other side of the pit. Patrick locked his eyes on me and commanded the others to follow him as he began running around the Battle-Pit to me. Kiss-ass down, psycho manager next.

My Best Books of 2021

The year has been a slow one for me as a reader. I’ve tried to read a bunch of books that ended up being so slow I had to put them down (most of them I intend to give another chance) and on top of that I suffered a reading slump that I tried to pretend wasn’t there. It was a little rough but I did read some books that I really liked, and, as is traditional for most nerdy blogs/channels, I’m going to list the books I liked and recommend the most. Of course, whether or not you choose to check these out is completely up to you. I’m doing this purely for the fun of it.

The Mistborn Trilogy

The first one on this list is easily the best thing I’ve experienced since I started reading in the first place. The Mistborn trilogy is a fantasy series set in a fictional world called Scadriel, though the name of the world is never explicitly stated, it is known by the fact that it’s a planet within Brandon Sanderson’s shared fantasy universe called The Cosmere.

The series follows a street urchin named Vin as she’s taken under the wing of charismatic crew-leader Kelsier and is thrust into a world of political intrigue and criminal machinations as she works with this new group to overthrow the Lord Ruler; a madly powerful tyrant that has had the world under his control for centuries.

While Vin is the main protagonist of the series, the main cast in its entirety gets a chance to be in the spotlight throughout each book. Some of it pays off, some of it doesn’t (in my opinion). But the real heart of the trilogy is in how the characters grow throughout the books, especially Vin. The magic system also plays a major role in pumping the life-blood of the series. If you’ve heard of Mistborn, you’ve likely heard of Allomancy; one of the most interesting and complex magic systems that I’ve ever come across.

If you love the hallmarks of a fantasy story; magic, adventure, intrigue; mixed with densely packed characterization and development, and if you’re a sucker for heist stories, I’d recommend Mistborn. The first book is extremely easy to get into. Once you get to the second book, however, the pacing becomes jarringly slow and it will feel like you’ve read the 2nd book for ages by the time you finish it. The 3rd book, for me anyway, was the most disappointing as it became unnecessarily theological in execution and there’s a subplot that was as pointless as the subplot in The Last Jedi with Finn and What’s Her Name. Mistborn is quite flawed due to the author having written it very early in his career and being more passionate about The Stormlight Archive, the core of The Cosmere Universe, than Mistborn. Regardless, there’s something for everyone to enjoy here. It’s completely acceptable to treat the 1st book as a standalone, but you’ll potentially get more out of it by reading all three books and beyond.

Though it never quite reached its full potential, Mistborn is by far one of my favorite fantasy series for its clever plotting, dense magic system, and compelling characters.

The Dispossessed

Written by literary legend Ursula K. LeGuin in 1974, The Dispossessed follows a genius physicist named Shevek as he travels from his bleak but ideally utopian homeworld of Anarres to the father planet Urras. A planet much more like Earth with a deeply capitalistic society and various international conflicts. The story alternates between the past and the present, from Shevek’s younger years to his time on Urras. As the story progresses we learn so much about both planets and about Shevek, about his struggle to fit into his own society and that of Urass’.

I loved Dispossessed for its fascinating portrayals of two distinctly different utopian societies and one man’s struggle to fill the hate-filled gap between them. The story in itself is extremely complex. There’s a staggering amount of things to wrap your head around between the immensely foreign societal system of Anarres, the back and forth between the past and present, and the general plethora of ideas presented in each paragraph. The prose can also be very flowery, so if that’s something that turns you off then, at least, become experienced in such writing style.

Overall this is a book that is definitely NOT for new readers of hard Sci-Fi. I read it as part of a Science-Fiction class I took my first semester of college, so I had guidance from my teacher and fellow students through all of the nuances of the narrative. But if you’re an experienced reader looking for something challenging, something different from the usual mold, this is a great book to check out.

The Unhoneymooners

I’ve talked once before about how I’m a hopelessly hopeless romantic. I generally enjoy a well-done romantic B-plot than I do a flat-out romance story. But, nonetheless, I can enjoy a good full-on romance story. Whenever the fancy hits me, I’ll watch a rom-com or read a romance book. The Unhoneymooners is a particularly tantalizing romantic tale.

In it, we follow Olive Torres, a young Spanish-American in desperate need of a job, as she takes her sister’s place on a Hawaiian vacation venue after she contracts a bad illness with her new husband during their wedding day. Along with the stress of illegally filling in for her sister during the vacation, and dodging the truth from her soon-to-be boss, she’s stuck vacationing with her brother-in-law Ethan Thomas; her least favorite person in the world. They get closer as the story progresses of course; but when disturbing secrets begin to surface, Olive’s relationship with Ethan is put under threat and she must deal with the ramifications of her choices.

This book was just a sweet, fluffy ball of fun that I enjoyed immensely. The bickering and trash-talking between Olive and Ethan, as welll as their individual growth, was a lot of fun. And there’s a surprising amount of seriousness in this story, especially toward the end.

If you want just pure smut, this book is not what you’re looking for as it has a level of maturity to it. If romance is not your thing…don’t read it then. But if you enjoy that middle-ground between mature storytelling and pure, delicious fun; this book is the way to go.

I should probably mention that there is a very descriptive sex scene in this book. Just throwing that out there in case that bothers anyone. I just skipped it…well…some of it…

Permission To Feel: The Power of Emotional Intelligence to Achieve Well-Being & Success

Be honest; how often are you in control of your emotions? Do you express them in healthy ways, or do you bottle them up and let them fester until they pop out at the wrong time? Are you aware of what you feel and when you feel it and have control over it, or does your inability to identify your emotions get you into trouble more often than not?

Written by an Emotional Intelligence expert, this book exposes the mistreatment and misuse of emotions in America and it offers strategies for utilizing our emotions to improve our personal and professional lives.

I really liked this book because of how it opened my eyes to the broader world of Emotional Intelligence. I think I’ve always carried my emotions on my sleeve to some extent, and I’ve always had a high capacity for empathy and support (not to toot my own horn, I’m just stating what I think I know), but this book showed me that I could be capable of so much more through the proper use of EQ (like IQ, but for emotional intelligence rather than, just, intelligence). I’m not quite the Emotional Intelligence expert I thought I was, that’s not to say I’m not prone to making mistakes; boy have I made mistakes; but with a little more practice and knowledge, I think I could get much better at managing and showing my emotions. You probably could too, and this book is a good step in that direction.

The Murderbot Diaries

Have you ever read a book or watched a show where, despite some weaknesses, you can’t help but love it for what it is and want more? That’s pretty much been my experience with The Murderbot Diaries.

In this series of novellas (tiny books that are typically no longer than 100+ pages) we follow an artificially intelligent security robot as it goes on an array of adventures to understand itself and, begrudgingly, save a bunch of humans.

Despite a lack of worldbuilding that didn’t provide much context for the history and state of the universe, the world of Murderbot nonetheless feels very lived in and I felt like I recognized many aspects of it. The true beating heart of the books though is Murderbot. This is very much a character study of a non-human character as it grapples with its own mental being and tries to do good, despite the fact that doing good is really hard to do.

Even though Murderbot is definitely the only interesting character in the series (side characters can have good characterization too!) it’s worth it for this portrait of a machine learning what it’s like to be human; a concept that I find to be endlessly fascinating. There’s also some really well-done mental illness representation as The Murderbot character seems to be constantly dealing with the effects of Anxiety and Depression.

I really enjoyed this series for its storytelling, its snark, and its humanity; even though it’s told completely from the perspective of a robot.

Josh & Hazel’s Guide To Not Dating

Yes, another romance. Bear with me.

This book follows the alternating perspectives of Josh Im and Hazel Bradford. One is centered and calm, the other a hilarious and free-spirited lunatic. After a bad breakup, Hazel convinces Josh to play an asinine game where one will get a date for the other and all will go on a double date with the chosen partners. The outcomes of the dates themselves range from hilarious to nerve-wracking, especially as Josh and Hazel develop, and deny, their feelings for each other.

Just like Unhoneymooners, this book was a blast of sugary fun. With a dose of mature, human storytelling. So far, Christina Lauren, the pen name for the two people that write these books, has kept me engaged in their stories through brilliant executions of lighthearted fun mixed with emotional, character-driven drama. I was already pretty melancholic by the ending of the book, not reading it made me feel like a piece of me was missing.

Reading, huh?

(also, this book has many more sex scenes that are a bit more descriptive than Unhoneymooners; These too I (sort of) skipped)

The Ocean At The End Of The Lane

I’m not a big fan of Neil Gaiman. There. I said it.

Before OATETL, I tried reading Neverwhere but it never really had me engaged, I enjoyed the atmosphere of the book but it wasn’t enough to keep me reading it. I’ve read the first volume of Sandman, which has some promise, but I’m in no rush to get to the next volume.

No, I haven’t read everything he’s written, but at this point, I recognize his voice; and it just doesn’t resonate with me. Each of his stories has this air of mysticism and whimsy that can be thoroughly enjoyable, but more often than not I’ve found his writing style to lack depth. That isn’t necessarily the case with this book though.

In Ocean At The End of The Lane, we follow a nameless boy as he encounters, and survives multiple strange beings in his rural homeland while under the protection of an older girl named Lettie Hempstock, who isn’t everything she appears to be.

Just like how Neverwhere was a tour de force of Gaiman’s pretty weird imagination, this book was a good, if not better, dose of those darkly entertaining fantasies swirling around in his head. The atmosphere and the tension lent very much to my enjoyment of this book. However, just like Neverwhere, there was something about this story that was missing fundamentally. Gaiman tends to tell a story like how they were told in the old days, or how they’re told in a children’s book, like it’s a journey through a person’s imagination. This can be a very amazing experience, but I’m just not fond of the way he writes or the way he approaches a story that makes it ring hollow in some aspects. Still, I’ll admit that Ocean At The End of The Lane was a huge improvement over Neverwhere. I’ll say that the book would likely make a really good animated movie. Can you imagine this story told in a visual, artistically satisfying way? What if they animated it and modeled it after how they designed and produced Klaus and Arcane? Heck, what if they made it in the same vein as Your Name?

This would make a really nice animated movie, just saying.

EmbassyTown

Now this one was interesting!

Along with Dispossessed, I read this book as part of that Science-Fiction class I took my first college semester; and Holy-Nelly was it a trip!

In it, wealthy space-explorer Avice Benner Cho returns to her homeworld and the colonial city she was born in, Embassytown, so her husband could study the complex culture of the planet’s natives; The Ariekei. However, when outside forces try to influence the political future of the planet, Avice and the few friends she has must perform damage control as conflict with the Ariekei brews to catastrophic heights and Embassytown descends into chaos.

This book is DENSE with ideas about culture, language, and the price of colonialism. The Ariekei have a complex language system developed by the author that made me can’t help but think of how we use language to build and destroy connections. The plot moves at a slow pace but there was enough going on to keep me intrigued. While it may lack character development in favor of the concepts being explored, it’s no less a nerve-wracking adventure into the unknown.

This story is a lot to wrap your head around so, just like Dispossessed, I would recommend this book for experienced Sci-Fi readers and for anyone looking for a challenge.

Eliza and Her Monsters

The Final Girl of this “Favorite Books of The Year” list. I say “favorite” because these aren’t objectively great books, they’re just ones that I enjoyed last year. So yea. Disclaimer!

I will say though that this one has the potential to resonate with anyone, especially if you’re a nerdy little hermit who spends a lot of time inside because the outside world is loud and scary and you can feel your legs beginning to buckle out from under you at the very thought of engaging in social conversation with another person because some people are too stupid to talk to and you have no idea if this person is good for you anyway; or worse yet; if your good enough for this person, especially if they’re a super awesome, interesting, and kind person that emulates everything good about the world and you’re…just…you…

Anyway.

This book is about a girl with an imaginatively and creatively rich lifestyle but is also a shy and unassuming high school student who happens to be the writer and creator of an immensely popular online comic series. Just when she meets someone equally reserved but outgoing enough to pull her out of her shell, and just when she sees a good world beyond her fantasy one, she’s outed as the creator of said online comic series; and her whole world falls apart.

This book shows the benefits and costs of internet fame but never loses track of the core of the story, which is Eliza’s struggle to cope with the changing climate around her. I loved how this book highlighted the importance of making connections and creating your own story, of how important it is to find growth in an uncontrollable world. I had some problems with how the love interest reacted to Eliza being outed as the creator of the comic series, but there was enough development on both sides to make me feel satisfied enough with everything that happened.

Eliza and Her Monsters was really sweet, albeit a little depressing, but nonetheless relatable for me in that I recognized the effects of isolation and loneliness presented in the story. I also enjoyed the dynamics Eliza had with all of the important characters in her life, from her parents, her brothers, her boyfriend, her friends, and whoever else appeared in my mind’s eye. I’d recommend this book if you’re looking for a good cry, and possibly a shift in perspective.

The Specter and The Toy Soldier

The music.

The lights.

The costumes.

Darrius loved it all. He watched the performance of The Nutcracker from the far right side of the stage. Out of sight. He was a performer himself, but not really. He had signed up to be in the play for a much different reason. He watched as Drosselmeyer danced with light steps across the stage. The performer was a very talented dancer. In fact, this performance was filled with incredibly talented dancers. Not all of them are inherently nice people, but such is showbusiness.

Darrius wore the outfit of one of The Nutcracker’s little soldiers. Soon, he’ll dance out onto the stage and join The Nutcracker Prince’s fight against the Mouse-King. It was disappointing that he didn’t exactly get to be a part of that scene, it was always his favorite part in the play since he was a child. It’s a shame that what everyone expects will happen, what he hoped he could let happen, is not what will transpire in this performance.

He peeked out from the curtains, careful not to draw attention, and looked for his target. It wasn’t easy with the theater mostly being dark in favor of the stage, but he thinks he spotted him along one of the frontmost rows. The target was a man named Theodore Maddock. A cop.

A cop…

Darrius was conflicted about this. On the one hand, killing him in, roughly, twenty minutes would likely send the theater into an uproar. He didn’t want to disturb the audience’s joy of watching the show, for what is art without its audience. But then there’s the other hand, he gets to kill a cop. But, is it worth it if it means disturbing this beautiful display?

He felt his phone vibrate in his vest and pulled it out.

One text: What is taking so long?

It hasn’t even been an hour and The Employer is already getting impatient. This irritated Darrius, people’s impatience always made him impatient, and nothing good results from that. He had to get this done. There was no other choice. He had to ruin The Nutcracker.

~

Perched on a metal support beam was a figure. Easily obscured from the common eye by how well he blended into the shadows due to his dark uniform, aside from the crimson glow of his eyes. Eyes that obscure the human beneath the titanium helmet. Ryan Shinobi, The Specter, was at the Nutcracker.

He watched the dancing and the lights, his gut moving with the dynamics of the orchestra. A deep part of him longed to be on the stage, dancing, letting his body move with the music. When he was a kid his parents took him to the Nutcracker every year, which he had loathed every time. Ryan had always been a video game junkie, especially in those very young years of his life. When his parents took him to see the Nutcracker was the surliest he had ever gotten around them. Years later, he shared their love of stage plays; and, along with getting a new game to play, he wanted nothing more than to dance. Which, it turned out, he was really good at.

Perched above the dancing and the lights on a metal support beam, Ryan found himself longing to be dancing again. The grace he acquired over years of practice made crime-fighting…somewhat fun. Definitely scratching that itch, but not completely satisfying the need. He never got to be in The Nutcracker, his parents were killed and he spent six years living on an unmapped island before he ever got the chance. Watching the show now dredged up a melancholy he had long buried, a feeling he was fighting back against to stay focused on the bigger picture. Ted Maddock is in danger, he knows that much. By who is the mystery. It’s either someone in the audience or on the stage.

He and Simon suspect a man by the name of Darrius James, a cop killer and arsonist. But without any substantial evidence to confirm their suspicions, they’re relatively in the dark about the identity of Ted’s assassin. Ryan was pretty certain, though, that it would end up being Darrius. This job certainly fits his motivations against authority. He typically strikes from the dark, careful to be seen by others. But he can’t be too careful; some eyewitness testimonies and video footage confirm him to be at and, though rare, committing the crimes. Still, Ryan couldn’t be too sure. He had to go into this expecting the unexpected.

The dance between Clara and her uncle (is he her uncle, the magician or toymaker or whatever he was? Ryan never knew) had just ended and now The Nutcracker came to life. Then Clara and The Nutcracker danced. As much as Ryan loved to dance, he had to admit that Ballet can be a bit redundant.

“Nothing out of the ordinary backstage,” Simon said, tiredly, through the comms in his helmet. “You sure he’s here? Nutcracker doesn’t exactly seem like the first place an assassin would go to kill someone.”

“Which is why it’s so perfect,” Ryan said. “No one’s expecting anyone to die during The Nutcracker. You’ve seen Darrius’ methods. They aren’t exactly conventional.”

“I guess you’re right. But that’s if this is Darrius’ work”

“True. We need to be prepared for anything.”

Ryan looked towards the audience. Towards Ted. He was with his family tonight, a surprisingly quiet bunch. His young daughter was very engaged with the play while his older son had fallen asleep. He and his wife watched with fixation the unfolding events on stage.

Ted had explained to The Specter earlier that night his strange behavior towards Ballet. Usually, he explained, he thinks he won’t like it when he ends up enjoying some aspect of it. Ted was a good person, a good officer, and a good friend. He knows he’s being targeted, and Ryan can’t let him down. Heaven knows he can’t afford to have too many friends in this profession.

“He’ll be okay Ry. He has you looking out for him.” Simon said.

“Yeah. Well…It wouldn’t be the first time it wasn’t enough. But thanks, Sy.”

~

Theodore Maddock didn’t exactly love ballet. But, apparently, he liked it enough to earn a marriage. The thing he liked, in particular, was the blend of orchestra and dance to tell a story. That aspect of ballet fascinated him more than he ever thought. The set design could also be very encapturing. Still, he couldn’t imagine putting on some tights and drawing oversized red circles on your cheeks to look more nutcracker-y for The Nutcracker. The tights are one thing, but clown makeup is where the line is drawn.

He felt his attention waning so he looked to his wife, Sydney, for a long moment. She actively ignored his stare, though he could see the smile. This was something he did much of the time he was with her, a game they play when boredom struck in social situations. He would bait her into looking at him so he could get lost in her deep, brown eyes. Cheesy? Sure. But he didn’t care. They were the most amazing pair of eyes he’d ever gazed into. Almost as amazing as the person wearing them. Eventually, she gave in; she locked eyes with him, smiling effervescently. She would never admit it, but she liked it too.

So amazing.

After a long, ethereal moment, the scenery on the stage shifted, the music tensed, and both were pulled out of their reverie. The Mouse-King had come out and was attacking. Friggin’ finally.

Sydney took her husband’s hand and leaned into his ear: “How’re the munchkins?”

Maddock looked at the seats next to him. His daughter, Violet, was fixated on the performance. He could wave his hand in front of her face and it wouldn’t break her attention. Meanwhile, his son, Barnes, was fast asleep and snoring a little. Theodore made a mental note to jostle him awake before the snoring gets louder.

He turned back to Sydney: “Violet’s lost in space and Barney’s going to swallow his own tongue before he’s even kissed a girl.”

She grinned and rested her head against his shoulder, attention back on the play.

Theodore was very happy, but he was also very nervous. If the Specter wasn’t here somewhere he would be downright terrified. There’s very little he wouldn’t do for his family, and, if he was going to be honest, he would rather wear clown makeup and tights than never again be there for them.

~

It was time to go. Darrius and the other soldiers were being called to the stage. He put on his cap, formed up with the other troops, and danced out onto the stage. He and the others ran and, occasionally, skipped in a wide circle around the Nutcracker and the Mouse-King. The Employer surely would have noticed him by now and is likely not amused. Darrius didn’t much care how The Employer felt, but he did very much like being alive. So when he saw an opportunity to duck forward and behind the large paper Christmas tree suspended in the background, he took it.

Hidden behind the tree, he scanned around to see if anyone had noticed him. If anyone did they’re not confronting him at the moment.

~

It’s only been thirty minutes but the time felt like it was being stretched out into infinity. The more time that passed the more stressed Ryan became. He absolutely hated waiting in these circumstances, especially when a friend’s life was at stake. The music had become intense, the battle between the Nutcracker and the Mouse-King was raging beneath him, and time was running out.

He watched the toy soldiers march out and encircle the hero and the villain of the story. Then something clicked in his mind.

~

Darrius screwed on the silencer. It would certainly still make noise, but in the heat of the music and the performance, the sound would likely be drowned out enough that no one would take notice.

He activated his Lens and the world became shades of green, blue, and red. He scanned the audience for Maddock and found the correct signature. However, performers were dancing in front of him, and he’d prefer no collateral damage. He’s only there for the cop. So he waited.

~

Two minutes later, according to Simon, the cast seemed to be in order. No extra performers. The numbers were consistent with what was typically seen in a Nutcracker play.

Ryan’s agitation though hadn’t loosed. He felt as though something was coming, any minute now.

“Simon,” Said Ryan. “Run through recorded footage of the play and see if you can spot anything off.”

“Anything in specific?” Asked Simon.

“I just feel like we’re missing something.”

“I’ll get on it.”

Ryan took a deep breath to cool his nerves and put his attention on the stage: Clara threw her slipper at the Mouse-King, stunning the villain in a dramatic display, and with a forceful blow, the Nutcracker stabbed the Mouse-King. Ending the battle. The stage became a show of hammy poses and vivid orchestra until all went dark. When the light returned, all the mice had retreated and the soldiers were at the sides so Clara and her toy soldier could dance together, leaving much open space on the floor.

Ryan was at ease somewhat, he always appreciated open spaces.

~

The space was open. Time to kill a cop. Darrius raised the gun and pointed…

…but didn’t shoot.

What about the play? What about the performers? What about all of the work that went into this production? The Nutcracker is a bastard of a play to put together, he knew that much. All of the work, the enjoyment of the audience. Who is he to take it away?

That was one part of him, a part he typically neglected. The part that appreciated art for what it was. The practical part of his being told him to pull the trigger.

He felt as if there was a crack in reality, a tear within himself. For a moment, one moment, he kept himself from pulling the trigger.

~

Something was off. Simon watched the footage of the play he had recorded from the mini-camera mounted to one wall of the theater.

Something wasn’t right about the movement of the little soldiers.

He pulled up 3-D imagery of the theater to get a more objective view and found something. An actor was behind the paper tree. That’s not right, is it?

He did a quick calculation and found that the actor is in the near-perfect position to assassinate Maddock.

“Ry. I think I found something.”

~

Darrius regained his senses. He’s here to do a job, to rid the world of one more authoritarian slime. One more tiny cog in the massive machine that he will cripple.

Before he could pull the trigger though, his arm suddenly jerked upward from some sort of grapple and a figure grabbed his arm, pinning it behind his back, and a cold blade touched the skin of his throat.

Darrius thought of struggling loose, but he needed to be smart about this. He didn’t want to attract too much attention, and he didn’t want to do anything to prompt the figure into slitting his throat. Besides, it has a fairly firm hold on him. This is someone with experience, someone whose eyes Darrius could feel on the back of his neck. Eyes that illuminated the corners of his vision in red.

“How did you find me?” Darrius asked after a moment’s pause.

A mechanical, gravelly voice answered: “I’m very good at what I do.”

So that’s it then. The Specter was real. And he was stopping Darrius?

“You’re real then?”

“When I need to be.”

“Why are you stopping me?”

“Because you’re about to kill a good man.”

Darrius scoffed. “A good man? He’s slime. A servant to the authoritarian bastards that keep the privilege of freedom to themselves while the rest of us have to abide by their rules.”

“Maybe if you took a step back, looked at the big picture, you’d see that it could be much worse. That man has a family. A life of his own. A life that he worked through blood and sweat to build for himself and to this day he works to keep what he has. Are you really willing to take that from him? You’d take him from his wife and children?”

“They’re better off without him.”

He felt the creature’s hand clutch tightly and heard a long breath of aggravation escape it.

This thing, holding him back now, is no different from the rest of them. No different from the scum that took his family from him.

The current dance has ended. The scenery is about to change for the next portion of the play, where Clara meets the Suger-Plum fairy for the first time. The stage crew will change the scenery into a winter wonderland. Eliminating Darrius’ cover.

He has to act. Now.

“There’s a better way Darrius,” Said the creature, with composition. “Let me show you what the world is really about. All it’s good, and the bad. Let me help you.”

“There is no helping me.”

He pulled the trigger on the gun pinned behind his back, and a shot rang out through the quiet of the theater. Silence. The creature was distracted enough for him to struggle free, kick him away, and shoot in the direction of the target.

~

Maddock had heard enough gunshots to know one when he heard one. That, provided with The Specter’s intel, was enough to compel him to duck under the seats with Sydney and the kids.

He didn’t know exactly where it came from, but he’d made the right choice when he heard the seat behind him get punctured twice.

Then the chaos came.

~

He missed. Damn it to hell, he missed!

The crowd erupted out of their seats and scrambled to get out of the theater. The massive room became a chorus of echoing, panicked screams. The actors retreated backstage.

Darrius felt a pang of guilt. He never wanted his work to collide with the few things he loved. He never wanted his work to taint, to ruin the things he held most dear. But here he was, listening to the screams of hundreds whose appreciation for the play has been lost because of him.

No…

No. Not because of him.

He turned around, pointing his weapon at where The Specter should’ve been; but was not.

In the midst of his confusion, he turned when being called out by security.

“What are you doing back here?” One of them said. Darrius then became aware of his toy soldier uniform.

“My apologies. I must’ve gotten lost in the midst of the play.” Darrius said, pulling out a flashbang.

He held up the device, turning his head away, eyes closed tight, and activated it. A brief flash of white, and the screams of blinded men, prompted him to run.

Putting away the gun, he exited the theater through an employee door that took him out into a packed hallway full of crew and performers. As one of them poured down questions, he launched through the masses in a direction where he assumes an exit outside of the building would be. He ignored the people calling him out as he made his way through the building.

There’s still time to finish the job if he can catch up with Maddock before he leaves.

Eventually, he found an exit door and went through it, which took him out into a dark and damp New York alleyway next to the theater. He turned to the left when he heard a cacophony of voices from the direction and saw that a huge crowd had formed in front of the building.

Maddock would be in there somewhere, It’s just a matter of vigilance. Annoyed but undeterred by the prospect, Darrius walked into the crowd and looked for the target.

~

“Things didn’t go quite according to plan,” Ryan said.

“Ya Think!” Simon replied over the comm.

After Darrius had kicked him away and made his shots, Ryan scrambled away to check on Ted. To his relief, he and his family were okay. He had seen them making their way out of the theater in the middle of the crowd.

Doing so, however, meant that Darrius got away. He returned to find two security officers clutching their eyes, moaning that they couldn’t see. He asked them where Darrius went but couldn’t specify. So he climbed to the upper half of the theater and went through an exit, hoping that he could spot Darrius from a high vantage point.

So now he clung to an open window, scanning the crowd for the assassin.

“Is Theo okay?” Simon asked. He called him “Theo” because he thought “Ted” was too generic and didn’t suit him.

“He’s fine, I saw him leaving with his family.”

“I’m gonna hack into the security feed to see if I can spot Darrius.”

“Good idea.”

Ryan kept scanning the crowd, he had face recognition software in his helmet that, hopefully, will find Darrius before he gets too close to Ted. He felt senses of relief and surprise that it had ended up being Darrius James. He and Simon’s suspicions didn’t have much foundation to convince them entirely that it would be him coming to kill Ted Maddock. The fact that it is him is an extraordinary piece of luck that Ryan is not going to waste. Five years he has been doing this and he’d already lost too many friends. Not again, not tonight.

Five years…wow…

Ryan shook his head to focus. He could have an existential crisis once Ted was safe.

Minutes later, the software recognized Darrius’ face near the front of the building.

At the same time, Ryan and Simon said: “Got him!”

~

Darrius hated crowds. But he had to admit that they provided the best way to go invisible. He wove through the sea of faces, using his Lens to locate the one he was really searching for. The heat signatures of an individual person varied, he took notice of a couple signatures that were similar to Maddock’s but they turned out to be different people.

Some of the people gave him discerning stares, curious as to why a performer, one of the Nutcracker’s soldiers, was at the front of the building. Once Darrius finished the job he would have to disappear quickly. He had no spare change of clothes hidden somewhere like he normally does. He thought this would be simple, at least, it should have been. Damn that Specter creature and whoever it was behind that mask.

The Lens took notice of a signature that matched Maddock’s, and sure enough, it was him. He was helping carry someone with a bloodied leg. That must have been from Darrius’ bullets that hit Maddock’s seat, turning to shrapnel and piercing the person’s leg. Collateral damage. This wouldn’t have happened if Maddock had been anything but a cop.

He noticed Darrius as he drew out his gun. The look on Maddock’s face was one that Darrius would cherish forever. It is a shame about his family, but they’ll thank him soon enough. They all will.

Darrius raised his gun toward Maddock, savoring the look on his face. Then he felt a force push him down to the ground, knocking his gun out of his hand. Then everything went black when his face collided with the pavement.

~

Everyone gasped at the sight. One minute, A man dressed as one of the toy soldiers from the play had a gun raised to Maddock, then the next a dark figure had him pinned down to the ground.

The fear that gripped Maddock as he stared down the gun barrel was one he was familiar with but never felt old. Every time, he thought of what would become of his family. The scariest imaginings he has are of him not being there for them.

He felt a wave of relief that he was friends with The Specter, who stood up from where he hovered over the assassin’s unconscious form and looked at Ted.

He gave one slight nod, which was returned by the masked figure, eyes so red they could make dead men shiver. The Specter turned and disappeared into the crowd, startling everyone within the vicinity, and left the assassin. As he normally does. After all, there is a cop there to arrest the guy.

Maddock convinced his family to go home for the night while he stayed with the injured person until an ambulance came. His mind and body were still flooded with energy by the time he got home by the bus. Sydney was still awake; and that night he told her about his ties with The Specter. She vowed that she would keep it a secret, but he needed to not keep any more secrets from her. Neither enjoyed telling each other lies, they didn’t enjoy or appreciate the burden of secrets. It was one of the reasons they got married in the first place. Even though, technically, they were still keeping secrets, they were keeping them together. Afterward, Maddock savored the comfort of crawling into bed. That spike of looseness and ease from the mark of a days end.

That night became the talk of the month. Even Maddock’s kids had come down with Specter Fever. Violet and Barnes would exchange theories of who The Specter was and where he, or she, came from for months. All the while Maddock continued to work closely with him, the only thing on his mind about The Specter of New York City was how exactly he pulled off that disappearing trick.

~Epilogue-Christmas Night~

Ryan and Simon met up at one of their favorite restaurants in Hell’s Kitchen a week after the night they saved Ted Maddock. The evening was loud and crowded in that typical New York fashion, but snow blanketed the city; lending an altogether different, ethereal tone for the urban twilight.

Simon was a lanky young man with poofy, ebony-colored hair and blue eyes. He had been born in Compton, but his family moved to Hell’s Kitchen so they could raise him somewhere a little safer but not unfamiliar.

“Just to be clear, I saw him first.” Simon said.

“I’m pretty sure I saw Darrius, like, one millisecond after you did.” Ryan countered.

“That’s super-specific and doesn’t make a difference at all. I saw him first.”

“It makes a huge difference! You were one millisecond late.”

“I was one millisecond late to say I saw him but that doesn’t mean I didn’t see him first!”

“Says who!”

“Says physics, ya dumb bastard!”

They laughed heartily. Simon had been Ryan’s friend for years. Long before his parents died and he himself went missing. Even with all his teasing, his being far better at fighting games, and his occasional self-loathing, Simon has stuck by him; and continues to do so. What better way for Ryan Shinobi to spend Christmas than with the closest thing he has to family.

“Should we hit that cartel on the southern side of the city tonight?” Simon asked.

“Simon. It’s Christmas.” Ryan said pointedly.

“Crime rates are super high on Christmas. Evil doesn’t rest and neither should we.”

Ryan smiled. If there’s one thing that he and Simon have in common, they are both stubbornly devoted to this cause.

“Sounds good,” Lamented Ryan. “We probably should anyway. It’s been long enough. They won’t see us coming.”

“They won’t see you coming. I’m just the guy in your ear.”

“You know The Specter would be dead if it weren’t for you.”

Simon shrugged.

“Hey,” Ryan continued, getting his attention. “We’re the Specter. You and I. It wouldn’t be complete without one or the other. In fact, one of us would likely be dead…and the other at MIT.”

“I don’t regret this Ry,” Simon said. “I wanted to do this with you. And I’m gonna keep doing it until the light’s go out.”

“…Or until you get your dumb ass into MIT.”

“Says who?”

“Physics.”

Another hearty laugh, Ringing out to be drowned in the city.

Ryan raised his can of Dr. Pepper, and Simon did likewise with his can of Sprite.

“To The Specter. Which is us.” Said Ryan.

“May we live long enough to see our children bury us six feet under.” Said Simon.

“Here, here,” Ryan said with a laugh as they clinked cans together in toast and downed the contents of the cans in one sitting.

When they slammed their cans down, throats burning from the spice of their sodas, a laugh creeping at the corners of their voices, they announced in unison: “Merry, Freaking, Christmas!”

A Tale of Two Cities | Arcane: League of Legends – Season 1 Review

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So far there have only been two TV shows that I’m a die hard fan of: Doctor Who and Daredevil. Typically I struggle with TV shows. Once, I was an avid consumer of Arrow, The Flash, and other CW Superhero content; But I think it’s well known by most adult audiences that those shows have devolved into mediocre soap operas. Since then I haven’t really been able to find a show that clicks with me in a fundamental way, usually the only genre of TV that resonates with me the most are sitcoms (because laughter is a wonderful thing and I love it). But it’s a rare thing for me to find a show that checks all the boxes. Granted, that could be because I don’t put much effort into actually looking; I’m aware that even a show I’m not interested in could end up being one of my favorites. Still, I’m generally very bad at keeping up with a TV series, especially if it’s something on Netflix where the filmmaking aspects usually strike me as generic and uninteresting; the idea of “8 hour long movies” does not sound appealing to me; and I don’t like the “sit down and binge it all the day of it’s release!” approach.

Thankfully, and ironically, the third contender in my favorites looks more and more like it’s going to be Netflix’s Arcane.

Minor SPOILERS in this post. Just fair warning.

THE CITY OF PROGRESS

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Arcane follows…a bunch of characters really. There’s no one character that the conflict is centered on, the conflict is compounded as a result of the choices made by the plethora of interesting characters presented in the series. But the main conflict is very much focused on the tension between two cities with their own cultures and norms. Piltover, the lush nation capitol where the wealthy prosper and scientific ingenuity flourishes; and Zaun, or the Undercity, a grimy haven for the oppressed and destitute. Not too many details are shared about the history of the these two cities and there’s light intervention from the world beyond. But there’s enough worldbuilding that it doesn’t feel arbitrary or under-developed, and I was able to make sound assumptions based on subtly hinted details. There still remain some unknowns though, some intentional gaps left in the worldbuilding, that I look forward to seeing filled.

The series follows multiple factions of characters from the upper and lower colonies. There’s a lot of mixing and mingling between groups as events pile on top of each other, but they’re each driven by one question that overshadows the series: What will be the fate of these two societies if things continue the way they are? In Piltover, we have a struggle to live up to the ideal set by this culture years upon years ago; which is the progression of scientific and technological innovation for the betterment of society. Here, we mainly follow a young man dead set on living up to this ideal. We watch him fall and rise as he’s led further and further by his brash idealism toward a state of being that will either enrich him, or destroy him. There are many layers to this side of the story as we follow multiple perspectives with their own desires and motivations. I’d say that my favorite part of the Piltover plot would be everything going on with Viktor; I found some aspects of him to be relatable, and it really pained me to watch this person suffer all because he wanted to do some good for both cities. There are many facets to the Piltover story that play a huge role in determining the fate of both cities, and, ultimately, the question of whether or not the progression of society through science is worth venturing into the unknown–is a question that pervades the Piltover scene. And human nature in general.

And that’s just the tip of the iceberg…

STILL SISTERS

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The beating heart of this show is the conflict between protagonist Vi (played super well by Hailee Steinfeld) and antagonist Jinx (played equally well by Ella Purnell). In the first three episodes we see the tragic events that led to both characters’ downfalls, then the rest of the show is how each one deals with the mounting tension between Piltover and Zaun, and the role they play in determining the cities future. Through Vi and Jinx, and other associated characters, we see the stark contrast between Piltover and the Undercity, and how far the corruption goes, even in pure Piltover.

By far, the most engaging aspect of this story was Jinx. I was both sympathetic and disturbed by her gradual downturn from victim to villain. It was also interesting and heartrending to watch her chemistry with Vi and Silco, the two most prevalent characters in her life. One wants her sister back, and the other wants either a daughter or a weapon. Jinx is steeped in layers of trauma and heartache that’s buried the girl she used to be and have made way for a schizophrenic and borderline sociopathic mess of a person. It was saddening to watch someone who was once so pure fall so far.

Vi doesn’t get as much internal conflict as Jinx. Her characterization is spot-on and I really like Vi, but the conflict she faces is mostly external and isn’t as deeply rooted on the inside as Jinx’s.

There’s also a flowering romance between Vi and a Piltover character that felt a little rushed and inorganic. It doesn’t appear to go beyond just friendship quite yet, but it still feels a little forced how quickly they came to like each other…stiiiiiiiill…curse the romantic in me for wanting it to work between them anyway…!

The arc between Vi and Jinx is the emotional hook for the show. The stakes practically revolve around what will happen should things intensify in their crumbling sisterhood. From scene 1 I was longing but also fearful to know what would become of these two siblings.

WHAT PRICE FOR CHANGE?

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I’ve heard this show be called the “Game of Thrones of animation” by one of my favorite YouTubers. I personally have never watched the show or read the books as it just doesn’t seem to be within my wheelhouse. But if the storytelling in Arcane really is anything like what was seen in Game of Thrones, then you’re in for a treat, regardless if you’re a Game of Thrones fan or not.

There are so many layers to each side of the story being told here. Even the characters you think will be irrelevant become dense in characterization. The villains of the story become hard to pin down and actually label as “villains” because even they have enough layers peeled back to reveal the inner-working mechanisms, their motivations and desires. Likewise, it’s hard to call the supposed “heroes” of the story heroes because even they are shown to be as beneficially and detrimentally human as the “villains”.

Through the lens of multiple deeply complex and compelling characters, we see how their actions influence the fate of two societies from here on out. We see these characters struggle to hold on to the ideals that influenced their life and culture, their struggle to maintain bonds in a broken world, their struggle to cope with the oppression and classism permeating the air of this nation, their struggle with anger and remorse and insanity. There is SO MUCH to digest and I’m doing very little to do any of what this show is justice.

I’m not without some criticisms though. While the art and animation of this show is absolutely stunning, it’s very hyper-stylized. Between frenetic, artsy scenes that were clearly influenced by Spider-Man: Into The Spider-Verse and frequent pop-rock needle-drops, there will be moments in the show for some where your immersion will be almost, or even completely, swept out from under you by the massively over-the-top style in which this show was made. As someone who often listens to that kind of music while having arcane-esque, Fantasy/Sci-Fi imaginings while at the gym (heck, I do it in bed), it didn’t bother me too much. In fact, at some point I began to look forward to the intro, with the imagine dragons cover playing in the background and the cool imagery in front of me, whenever I started an episode. However, the music drops that would often happen during the episodes could be a little off-putting and betray the tone of the show and my immersion in the story. There’s one particular scene where two characters are on a bridge and about to have a showdown when suddenly, not only is there a punk-ish music drop, but the art shifts from the 3D/2D style to a spray-painted, 2D style that left me thinking “uh…”. I think I know what they were going for in that scene, but that just makes it weirder than it already was.

Regardless of weird, over-the-top style; it’s just one more layer of the show to enjoy and/or criticize. This is probably the first show that had me so fundamentally engaged since the first season of Daredevil. There is so much to take away from this one season, so much humanity injected into it. The likes of which I, personally, haven’t seen since…well, Daredevil.

If you enjoy complex storytelling, beautiful art/animation, and are quite big on Sci-Fi and Fantasy yourself; Arcane isn’t just good at all of those things, it’s a good show in general. Now I’m giving it a lot of praise but I don’t think I can say with surety yet that it’s one of my all-time favorite TV series. This one season is a lot to unpack but it’s just one season. Even though it’s unlikely that Arcane will devolve after the first season like, say, Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. did; it’s still a possibility. Doctor Who is one of my favorite shows ever but, technically, I never finished it. No offense to Peter Capaldi but the show really lost me when he showed up. There was enough of it though for me to say “this is one of the best TV shows I’ve ever watched”. And I’ve had two seasons of consistently good Daredevil episodes, with the third season seeming to be a work of art in of itself, to earn a spot in my “favorites list” (I say “seeming” because I haven’t watched the third season yet…I told you I was bad at TV shows!). All of this to say that, if Arcane can maintain my engagement for further seasons and continue to be a work of quality, and I think it’s safe to say it most likely will, then I’ll have the pleasure of calling it one of my favorites. However, It’ll be a while before that happens as the next season probably won’t come until 2023…yeah. Still, the first season alone is pretty dang good so maybe it’ll be a favorite upon a re-watch?

Sendoff

As I said though, I’m doing the show very little justice in this review. So check it out for yourself, if you haven’t already, and see what you think. It’s insanely popular on most media platforms right now so that’s gotta count for something.

That was a lot of writing so I’m gonna spend the rest of the day doing nothing. See ya!

The Specter Vs. The Replicator (Action Short-Story)

Image by Aleksey Bayura. No Copyright Intended.

Disclaimer: There are certain themes in this story that could be interpreted in a number of ways. Just know that this one story does very little, if not anything, to communicate my personal beliefs.

Ryan Shinobi, The Specter, waited in a corner of Vincent J. Morgan’s office, the most wealthy, and most corrupt, politician working in Los Angeles. Despite the late hour, the city glowed. Stretching from miles in every direction was artificial light and the hustle and bustle of urban midnight. New York is credited as the city that never sleeps, but if there’s one thing that Ryan has learned in his years of globe-trotting; it’s that few cities are ever really “quiet”, New York is just one of the loudest.

Ryan got an alert from Simon, his eyes and ears, that Vincent was approaching the office now. No sooner than Ryan got the alert, he heard footfalls coming closer and closer to the office. He took a deep breath. This should be fairly simple, Morgan wouldn’t be the first one he frightened into being truthful. Still, he had to do so with confidence. He had to command the room. The fact that he had on a titanium helmet with glowing red eyes and a katana sword strapped to his back made it easy to let whoever he was speaking to know who’s in charge. Regardless, he had to sell it, a skill he had gotten quite good at in the years he’s been the Specter. In fact, The Specter feels so a part of him now he often struggles knowing which one he is, the man or the thing.

The door to the office opened, and, once again, Ryan found himself having to put that meditation on hold.

Vincent J. Morgan was a well-built man with salt-and-pepper hair, narrow eyes, a strong jaw, and a turned-up nose. He was the kind of man the news craves; talking big, leaking fake compassion in his words. He pulled off the gentle-giant act so well many refuse to believe he could be capable of fraudulency and stealing, much less molestation. Indeed, Ryan himself wouldn’t have believed it so, once. But, at this point, he’s come to care more about what lies beneath the surface.

Despite his well-done efforts of covering his tracks, some have noticed the darker parts of his behavior. Anyone who blows the whistle, though, faces unfair argumentation from supporters. Indeed, for many, Vincent J. Morgan is a controversial subject. It was only until Ryan and Simon saw his name on a list of clients for a black market deal that they started gunning for him. At this point, they had enough to put him away indefinitely. But it’s not enough for Ryan. Too often, some piece of slime like Morgan gets away with it. Not this time. This time, for once, Morgan will know what it’s like to be the victim.

He was getting something from a drawer in his desk when Ryan, when The Specter, spoke.

“Time has run out for you Morgan.” He said. Outside the helmet, Ryan has a clear and compassionate voice. With it on, however, he sounds like a creature with a voice of wet gravel. Thunderous and chilling. Morgan made no startled movements, he actually seemed relaxed.

“Who? Me?” He said with nonchalance. Ryan couldn’t help but think of Johnny Cage when he heard Morgan’s voice. The remnants of the boy he used to be, reaching for the man he is now.

With a chuckle, Morgan turned in Ryan’s direction, a gun in his hand. Smiling, he said;  “I haven’t done anything. You broke into my office. I know that doors aren’t exactly a thing for you…types of people. But the law is the law. And you committed a breaking n’ entering.”

“Funny for you to talk about the law when you’re just as guilty yourself,” Said the Specter, not minding the gun. Even if he couldn’t dodge the bullet, the suit would deflect it.

“Hell’s sake, you too!?” Morgan said in exasperation. “And to think I talked you up multiple times in multiple press conferences! I mean, what proof do you have?”

“Whatever’s not on TV right now.”

Morgan looked at him in confusion. Specter turned his head towards the television mounted on the wall. In no more than two heartbeats, Morgan’s expression went stricken. If there’s one thing that people like Morgan are frightened to death of, it’s getting caught.

He turned quickly towards the TV. “Television, on! L.A. News!” He said hurriedly. The TV turned on the news reporting the “disturbing revelations about Morgan’s behavior.”

Ryan smiled beneath the helmet. He wasn’t stupid, he wasn’t going to face Morgan without leaking the information first. That wouldn’t be fair to the victims left in his wake. Better, in Ryan’s mind, for him and the victims to feel the satisfaction of Morgan’s downfall simultaneously.

Morgan’s mouth was agape at the sight. He’s been on TV many times of course, but, as far as Ryan knew, this was the first time it was framed in a universally negative way. He didn’t feel bad for whatever supporters Morgan had; they were all severely ill-informed anyway.

“Well…how about that…” Morgan said. His voice was morose, but not broken. “You’ve ruined me. I really did want this. I liked being a politician…

“Politicians are supposed to do what’s in the best interests of the people, they’re supposed to do what’s right. You just did it to lord your power over everyone beneath you.” The Specter said.

Morgan chuckled. A deep and menacing chuckle. Ryan always hated it when they chuckled. “Look at you,” Morgan said, turning with a smile. There was fury in his eyes though. “Look at you with your big talk of what’s in the best interests of the people. What’s in it for you to care about their best interests! People are stupid! They don’t deserve your bull-crap about ‘best interests’ or ‘the right thing’! There is no right thing; there is no wrong thing! It’s just me and all you idiots!”

“Is that why you do what you do? All those people you’ve hurt? You hurt them because they deserve it!?” Specter asked.

“Again…WHAT IS IT TO YOU!?”

The Specter paused for a moment. Morgan wasn’t without a point, but that doesn’t make him vindicated. “Unlike you, I have reasons to believe in people. And I’ll be damned before I let you get away with hurting anyone else.”

Morgan chuckled again, it made Ryan so uneasy he shifted slightly. “You’re freaking stupid,” He said. “Just like the rest of them. You know I meant what I said at those press conferences, the ones I talked you up in. I really, truly liked you.”

“Duly noted. Now here’s what you’re–”

Morgan hefted his gun towards Specter and fired, point-blank, at his head. The bullet’s collision with the helmet made a clanging sound that echoed throughout the room. The force sent Ryan’s head reeling backward, but the helmet was not penetrated. The bullet bounced on the carpeted floor before setting still. 

Ryan brought his head back down and looked at Morgan. He saw the shot coming a mile away, and though dodging would have had an effect on Morgan, withstanding a bullet is a feat that is truly inhuman. Still, it was irritating, and he did his best to show it through the helmet.

Morgan seemed impressed. “Now that’s a party trick.”

The Specter rushed toward him. Morgan raised his gun for another shot but Specter kicked it out of his hand faster than Morgan could comprehend. He grabbed his collar and pulled him forward. Morgan’s fingers laced around his arms but, oddly enough, he made no attempt to wretch free. For reasons that Ryan couldn’t comprehend, he was smiling as well. 

“Here’s what you’re going to do,” he said, his words dipped in venom. “You’re going to go willingly, you’re going to tell the judge that everything seen on the television was real. You’re going to tell the truth; plead guilty. If you don’t, I will find you and I will ram this sword down your throat. Understand?”

Another chuckle from Morgan, this one more amused than frustrated or frightened. “There are two problems with what you’re telling me here. First of all, you say all this as if there isn’t a single lawyer money can’t buy. And believe me, I can afford the best. Secondly…”

Morgan’s grip on Ryan’s arms became tighter…and tighter…and tighter. It became so tight so quickly that his grip on Morgan’s collar loosed not thirty seconds after.

Ryan grunted under the pressure. His legs buckled in minutes, and he was losing feeling in his arms. He screamed under the pain, and when he looked up at Morgan, he had a monstrous grin. Morgan grabbed Ryan’s side and hurtled him to the other side of the room. He threw him so hard and so fast he cracked a huge indentation in the wall. When he fell to the floor he instantly worked on picking himself up. He couldn’t feel his hands and they were shaking. He was dizzy with shock.

“Neat, huh?” Morgan said as Ryan propped himself on his other arm, he felt as if millions of ants were chewing at his hands while feeling came back into them. “Can’t say where exactly it came from. I literally just woke up one morning and boom, I could do this. It came in pretty handy when I took care of my dad. When he hit, he could hit.”

Ryan picked himself back up and was about to take a swing at Morgan, but before he could, Morgan roundhoused Specter in the head. The force of the blow nearly sent him out the window. When he settled on the floor, he felt so winded he could barely comprehend Morgan’s words.

“Thanks for that little trick you showed me. There’s nothing you can do that I can’t do.” Morgan said.

Ryan didn’t know what he meant by that. His heart was pounding, his hands were shaking for the first time since he started out, and his head was swimming with confusion and strategy. He realized something just then; the kick was maneuvered in the exact same way he kicked Morgan’s gun out of his hand, with the exact same grace. Did he have the same training as Ryan? How? The place Ryan was trained in was unlike any other place. The combat itself is unlike most martial arts taught in the world. How would Morgan know how to move like that? And why thank Ryan for it? 

When he tried to get up, Morgan placed his foot on Ryan’s back and pushed downward.

“It doesn’t last long, about ten hours or so.” Morgan said. “Which is why I always take time to watch a superhero movie or something, just to get it stuck in my brain.”

“What are you talking about!” Specter said horsley. 

“How do you think I’m so good at this? This politicking? I literally take pointers from the professionals. Sure, I cheated. All I’ve done is cheat. But you know what, no one cares. Because I’m such a good guy. That right there goes to show how stupid they all are. I’m not an idiot, I know what kind of person I am. And you know what, I’m okay with that. Because, in the end, I, a chauvinistic sociopath, have more sense than any of them do.”

He’s cocky. Good. That gives Ryan an edge.

“What does any of that have to do with how you’re doing this?” He asked.

“I copy stuff! I replicate people’s behaviors and skills. The things that make them, that make you, so good at what you do, I can do them better by just looking at you.”

“What? That’s impossible. You’re insane!”

“Yeah, yeah; tell me something I haven’t heard before. I guess you could say I’m a…copier? No that’s garbage…I’m…the Replica–“

The force Morgan’s leg put on Ryan had lightened, and he took that opportunity. He rolled onto his back, stumbling Morgan; clenched his right fist, activating his gauntlet blade, and rammed it through Morgan’s upper thigh. As Morgan screamed in pain, Ryan brought his legs up until his knees were inches from the face of his helmet and kicked with as much force as he could muster directly into Morgan’s chest. Morgan flew backward, grunting painfully when he landed. Ryan flipped onto his feet and brought out his sword. The hilt was wrapped in black cloth and the blade itself was a metal no one had ever seen before. Ryan would know, he and Simon have been studying it for years and still have not deduced what makes it so strong. An unnatural silver light glowed from the sword in the dark room.

“Ooh, shiny!”

“Where could you have possibly gotten such abilities?” Ryan asked. Part of him still didn’t believe Morgan. However, as of late, he’d been dealing with a lot of strange things.

“Hey,” Morgan began. “You tell me. I just do the copying. I don’t ask questions. I do have one though, do you really expect to kill me with that thing? We’re all aware of your track record, you cripple the heck out of people but you never kill them. I don’t know about you, but that sounds like cowardice to me.”

He wasn’t wrong, taking a life is something that Ryan does his best to avoid. However, that doesn’t mean he won’t do what he has to do.

Besides…”True. I do ‘cripple the heck’ out of people. I do it very thoroughly,” He raised his sword toward Morgan. “And very painfully.”

“Pfft. Do your worst, you jackass.”

Specter spun his sword in a swinging arc toward Morgan, who jumped, literally, out the way of it. When Morgan hit the ground he swung his leg toward Specter’s head but missed by inches. Ryan had managed to regain enough of his composure to fend off Morgan’s attacks, though he was still processing the surreality of Morgan’s claims. Is it possible that what he says is true? It would certainly explain so much about his success as a politician. And as Specter fought him, he came to the realization that it might be true. As they fought, Morgan’s skills became more and more efficient. He pulled off moves in a manner of minutes that took Ryan years to achieve. Though the Specter had the upper hand in the beginning, as the fight pressed on he found himself in a stalemate against a sleazy politician with a wounded leg. And he was only getting better.

Ryan took a swing at Morgan, but, in seemingly no time at all, Morgan dodged, spinned into the air, and kicked him in the chest. The force sent Specter flying through the door and bashing against the wall of the hallway. Blood streamed down Ryan’s nose and mouth. Every inch of his torso, front and back, was in agony. He still managed to pick himself up though, using the wall behind him to steady himself. His breath came in ragged heaves, and the scent of blood colored his nostrils.

Morgan was beginning to look tired himself, he was cut up from the sword and bruised from Ryan’s fists, but he still kept moving. And he still kept smiling.

“You’re…,” he began, pausing to take a breath. “…a tough one…aren’t you. You seem to know alot about me so I…I take it you know what happens to people who tick me off.”

“You do a lot of things Morgan, I honestly stopped caring about what you do when I started caring about how I would tick you off.”

Morgan chuckled. Then Simon alerted that LAPD had arrived at the building. No doubt they’re there for Morgan, and Ryan will be an added bonus if he doesn’t get this over with. He tried hefting his sword but it wasn’t in his hand, it was several feet away from him; on the floor of the office room. It must’ve fallen out of his grip when Morgan kicked him out of the door. He tried to take a step forward, but instead buckled down onto one knee. Ryan grunted as every bruise on his body flared from the motion.

“What, done already.” Morgan said, laughing. “I was actually having fun. Well, guess we need to wrap this up anyway. I think the police are stomping up those stairs as we speak. Gotta know one thing though,” Morgan rolled up his sleeve and prepped his arm for a strong punch. One, Ryan suspected, that would really end this fight. “How does it feel to go down knowing it was done by…me.” Morgan smiled.

“I’ve had worse.” Specter said.

“Uh-huh.” Morgan said with a raised eyebrow and swung hard and fast toward Ryan’s head. 

Ryan closed his eyes. He really did have worse.

He felt something crack against his helmet. The nauseating sound of bones snapping to pieces. He heard a scream, a wail of agony, from Morgan. Ryan raised his hand to his helmet and felt a surge of lightness spread throughout his chest. His head was still on his shoulders. How?

He looked up to see Morgan clutching his hand. He too was down on one knee now. 

Morgan cursed. “Not Now!” He said.

Ryan was confused for a moment, then he remembered something: “It doesn’t last long. About ten hours or so. Which is why I always take time to watch a superhero movie or something, just to get it stuck in my brain.”

Ten hours or so…

Ryan chuckled beneath the helmet. “Well, if time wasn’t up for you before, looks like it is now.”

The Specter found enough strength to pick himself up as Morgan gave him a deathly glare. “Don’t get cocky, I still know everything you do.”

Which is why Ryan needs to move fast. Before Morgan had the chance to do anything, he rolled towards the sword and sliced a deep cut into Morgan’s waist and then plunged a gauntlet blade through one of his arms. Pulling out the blade, he kicked Morgan onto the floor; planted his foot firmly on his throat; raised his sword; and brought it down.

Later, the police would find a barely alive Vincent J. Morgan. He was beaten to a bloody pulp, the sleeve of his suit jacket indicating he was pinned down by a knife-like object while the work was done. They were all baffled, unable to explain the clear signs of…”struggle”, as the report would later put it. When they questioned Morgan, he only kept muttering; “…specter…specter…”

He was charged for rape, fraudulence, dealing, and was sentenced to fifty years in prison with no chance of parole. At some point, on charge of assault and battery, an arrest warrant was issued throughout all of Los Angeles for the individual called the Specter.

-epilogue-

Ryan watched, perched atop a ledge, as several officers hauled Morgan’s unconscious body into the back of a police vehicle. 

Morgan was probably right, he probably could afford some really good lawyers. With his amount of influence, he likely won’t even serve a day in prison. Thankfully though, The Specter has strings of his own that he can pull. He’ll make sure that Morgan gets his fair share of time behind bars.

He was still trying to process the events of the night though. How and where did Morgan get his abilities? And are there any more like him out there?

The sound of sirens and the motion of vehicles broke Ryan out of his reverie. He watched the police cars drive away with one of the sickest, and most powerful, men Ryan had ever encountered. He stood up on the ledge and looked around. It was still night, but the city glowed. He told Simon to schedule a flight for him back to New York, back home. With that, he leaped off the ledge and let himself fall, let himself shed the burdens of the night, before grappling a nearby ledge and swinging into the urban light.

Strange But Wonderful | Little Nightmares-Game Review

No Copyright Intended

This game is great.

That’s it. That’s the introduction to this post.

ESCAPING THE MAW

No Copyright Intended.

Little Nightmares is a creepily whimsical fantasy adventure/platformer game where you play as a kid named Six. As Six, you solve puzzles and evade weird antagonists to progress through the story, which isn’t long at all, about 3 to 4 hours on a regular playthrough (and that’s not accounting for a speed-run, which, if done well, would take about 45 minutes of your time). The short length makes it feel condensed and that there’s more to be had, it also gives it some replayability value for when you finish the game and want to experience it all over again, and if you’re anything like me, you will want to play it over, and over, and over again.

You don’t get a lot of information about the story when you jump into the game, you just kind of start. You’re not told anything to give you a good idea about who you are and what’s going on, and no one is certainly going to hold your hand as the story unfolds. The details of the situation and the grander scheme of things are held back from you and you’re left to keep an eye out for the subtlest of clues as to who Six is, where she is, what’s going on, and why everything is happening. Even then, however, the best you’ll get are rough ideas. You’re not spoon-fed information about the world, that’s up to you to figure out yourself, and I actually really enjoyed that aspect of the game. The withholding of information made the story feel like a puzzle in of itself and I was constantly keeping an eye out for any clues that could give me some idea about what is going on; but as I said, the best you’ll get are rough, shoddy ideas as you’re left with more questions than answers by the time you reach the end of the game.

Details that are known, is that you are a little girl stuck inside a huge structure called the Maw. You, as the player, don’t know why. All you know is that it’s a dense, dark, and dangerous place full of weird characters with sinister intentions should you be caught by one of them. Your best chance at not getting caught is by sneaking around and figuring what it is you’re supposed to do, and if you’re seen you can’t fight back, you can only run and hope that you’ll get far enough away to hide somewhere (in my experience, it’s best to avoid being seen altogether). This doesn’t necessarily make it a horror game as, in fact, the horror elements are very light. It’s just a creepy, suspenseful adventure. The suspense aspects are compounded by the lack of exposition, not even much in terms of tutorial (though the game will give you hints if you’re struggling in a certain place).

The game is riddled with puzzles, some easy, some a little tricky (I almost hate to say that I cheated a little bit and watched YouTube videos in areas I struggled with). Either way I found it to be massively enjoyable to solve the puzzles. And I found myself getting a little excited to see what the next one was. The antagonists are also enjoyable in a weird sort of way. They add tension to the room, which isn’t hard to feel since they’re big and you’re small. The way they’re designed, though, gives the game an unsettling vibe. And they’re presentation gives the impression that these characters really are part of this world, rather than just being a bunch of creep-o’s that chase you every now and then. I would recommend paying attention to their character designs and behaviors, as there can be some interpretation about the world through these strange creatures.

The game flies by at a very brisk pace. I’ve played through it 3 times now and I’ve enjoyed every second of it. It’s quickly becoming my go-to game whenever I’m having a tough time, or if I need something to occupy my brain. I want to note that if you feel like you’re failing the game because you’ve died a lot; DON’T. The game’s progression was intentionally made to be a process of trial and error. You’re going to die a lot, but it’s all for the purpose of giving the player the chance to learn from their mistakes and course correct on the next try. It’s not a fun feeling when you get caught by one of the antagonists, but it is satisfying to finally reach the end of a level after much tribulation and give your TV the finger while laughing like a goon because you escaped the bad guys. There’s also a DLC (Downloadable Content) called Secrets of The Maw where you play a different character and experience new parts of the Maw. It also gives you an alternative way of looking at Six’s story; and the puzzles in that one are slightly more challenging. There’s even a second game, Little Nightmares II, that, I believe, is a prequel to the first game (I would murder a man in cold blood to play it).

Another thing that I can’t go on without mentioning is the music. The game has a spot-on soundtrack that suits the tone and voice of the game so well; and it tends to blend in with the environment of the Maw, which makes the experience all the more unsettling.

LITTLE HERO, OR LITTLE NIGHTMARE

Image By AdrianArt. No Copyright Intended.

When you start out playing as Six, you get the impression that she’s no more than a harmless little thing trying to make it out of this hellish place alive. You certainly don’t feel like she’s just a cardboard cutout that you get to move around and solve puzzles with, there’s some character to her. Playing the game, I cared about her enough to get her through the levels. But, as the game progresses, you begin to see the more disturbing aspects of her behavior. By the time you reach the end, you’re left questioning everything you went through…and what’s next for Six.

There’s not really much else to be said about the game, not without getting into spoiler territory. I’ll definitely get around to playing the 2nd game and do a review about it. I might even write my own theory posts about the wider narrative. I’m very interested in knowing the broader strokes of the story world, and I look forward to a possible third game. There’s even been discussion of a series, but there’s been zero updates since 2018 due to the effects of the pandemic. Still, fingers crossed.

Have you played Little Nightmares? What did you think? It might just be one of my favorite games now. It and Mass Effect are definitely high on my favorite games list. I would’ve done a review on the Mass Effect trilogy, but I didn’t even know where to start with that one. Mass Effect in it’s entirety is a hard one for me to review since I have so many feelings about it and there’d be a crap-ton of ground to cover. Little Nightmares though is much more manageable, and absurdly underrated as far as I can tell. I wouldn’t just recommend it for an individual gamer, but it’d make for a great family game! And it’s super accessible to anyone, regardless of your age!

That’s it for this post. Thank you for reading and have a great day!

History of Frankenstein

In honor of the Halloween season, I wanted to put together a comprehensive overview of one of the most well-known stories in Gothic and Cinematic fiction: Frankenstein.

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While you might think you know everything, based on what you’ve seen in movies and TV, or just heard about from other sources, you’ve barely even scratched the surface (or you just don’t care). There’s much more to this story than a mad scientist and his undead monster, the qualities that made the story so compelling in the first place were dumbed down to make a now generic monster movie that, at the time, sold like gangbusters. In this post, I’m going to explore those hidden layers and show you what the story of Frankenstein is really about.

Now, I haven’t yet read the book, or even watched the classic film, so everything I say might be a little unfounded, arbitrary even, but I did enough digging to recognize the dichotomy between the original story itself and the Hollywood version imbedded in mainstream pop-culture.

Bear in mind that when I say Frankenstein, I’m referring to the story in general, not specifically the monster or the man. I know that the two get mixed up, or at least the name is used interchangeably between the two.

I’m going to cover the history of this story in as much detail as I can, starting from its inception up to the present day. Which, as far as I know, can’t be done without knowing the mastermind behind this monstrosity: Mary Shelley.

A LIFE UNHEARD OF…

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The 18th century was a time of significant revolutions for us as a society. Science was blossoming into what we know it to be now, religion was drastically changing, and everyone wanted in on the “New World” action (that New World would end up becoming our own United States of America). You might be more familiar with this old world from what you’ve seen in media, specifically Pirates of The Caribbean, as it is the setting for all four movies. Many people feel disconnected from this time because of how different it is from our modern world, which, really, goes to show how much we’ve advanced since then. But it was during this time that art and science were quickly becoming what we know them to be now.

In the decade of the 1790s, the Industrial Revolution was in its heyday, Anti-Imperialists were calling for political change and the invention of a revolutionary new product that would forever change the course of history: The Top-Hat. In August of 1797, not long after Napoleon’s conquest of Venice; Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin was born to William Godwin, a philosopher, and Mary Wollstonecraft, a revered feminist. It’d be easy to say that little Mary led a distinguished and privileged life with her mom and dad, maybe a difficult relationship with her dad, but not bad overall. The day she was born, however, she was already bound for a sad life with her mother passing away not long after her birth, leaving her to grow up with her father and half-sister Fanny Imlay, Wollstonecraft’s daughter that she had with a French Revolution soldier. At the time, Mary’s father was a very well-known political anarchist/philosopher with some interesting theories. There’s nothing to suggest that he was difficult or abusive toward his daughter, in fact, they adored each other. Mary’s father growing up, besides her own reading and writing, was the center of her affections and their appreciation for each other ran deeper than most father-daughter relationships. Unfortunately, though, it’s probably safe to assume that Fanny Imlay was sidelined while Mary got all the attention. This, and the heartache she would suffer later in life, is probably what led her to kill herself in 1816.

When Mary was four, her father married writer and author Mary Jane De Vial, who became Mary Jane Godwin. The two Mary’s of the household did not get along well, Mary-the-step-mother was more devoted to her husband and her own children than she was toward whatever pre-packaged children came with Godwin. She wouldn’t let Mary-the-step-daughter get any sort of formal education because she just didn’t care. This led to a lot of friction that Mary (Shelley) candidly wrote about later in her life. So, while her half-relatives got to learn in a classroom, Mary (Shelley) was left to educate herself in her father’s massive library.

Other than Jane Clairmont, De Vial’s daughter and, incidentally, Mary’s stepsister, it seems like the to-be-author didn’t have many, if not any, friends growing up. It’s said that she mostly spent her time reading and writing, and when she wasn’t doing that she was in her own head and away from everyone else.

In 1812, at around the age of 15, Mary met Percy Bysshe Shelley at a family friends’ party. Percy was a well-known radicalistic political philosopher, poet, and atheist. At the time they met, he was married with children to Harriet Westbrook, a 16-year-old girl whom he was with mostly for his own agendas than actual love, and was struggling financially since his father cut him off because of his alternative beliefs. He and Mary were very much on the same wavelength, they both loved writing stories and reading books, and they both carried high-concept ideas everywhere they went. When they both faced opposition from their respective families about the affair, they decided to leave England, with Jane Clairmont tagging along, to explore other parts of Europe. They came back six weeks later, though, because of financial difficulties.

While researching Mary and Percy’s relationship, I had wanted them to be something of a power couple, an inseparable duo that had each changed fundamentally from their relationship. I wanted them to love each other enough to power through whatever obstacles faced them. But, while they certainly loved each other and while they did have many obstacles, their relationship in of itself was emotionally burdensome for Mary. Percy believed in “free love”, which means that whenever Mary’s sisters/step-sisters made advancements toward him, he openly accepted them. Not because he didn’t care about Mary or didn’t respect her, but it’s just part of what he believed in. When friends and colleagues made advancements toward Mary herself, Percy encouraged her to accept them. As far as I know, she only accepted one but got tired of him eventually.

If the monogamous aspects of their relationship weren’t bad enough for Mary, her emotional strain was compounded when her and Percy’s first child died before barely coming out of the womb, leading Mary to have a full-blown nervous breakdown. Things would get a little bit better when she and Percy were finally able to marry in 1816 after Harriet drowned herself, the emotional trauma of Percy’s indifference too much for her to handle. Mary and Percy certainly felt responsible for her death and mourned her accordingly, but the fact remains that if Harriet hadn’t killed herself, the two would never have been able to get married. While Percy’s personal beliefs hadn’t changed, the burden of a scandalous relationship being lifted from their shoulders had to have felt good in the least. On top of that, Mary successfully gave birth to her 2nd child, William Shelley.

In 1818, the two were invited by friends to stay in a fancy resort. One night, while relaxing by the fireplace, one of the friends dared everyone in the room to tell them the scariest story they could conceive. On this night, when Mary stepped up to tell them her story, a story of an ambitious scientist looking for a way to bring back the dead through science, her magnum opus was born into reality. She called it Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus. That same year, with the help of Percy’s own writing skills, she published the book; and it was a hit. It’s rare for an author to be universally recognized upon their first work, but Frankenstein marked Mary Shelley as a literary icon from that point up to now. Unfortunately, at least in my experience, because of how much attention has been put on the story and creature, especially the creature, without giving much credit to the author, most people are only passingly familiar with the name Mary Shelley. Even so, make no mistake, Mary Shelley is a dynamic figure in the literary world, and it’s quite possible that our lives would not be the same if she had never contributed to the wonderful landscape of creative writing.

Grief was never far away for Mary Shelley though. The very next year after Frankenstein’s publication, while the Shelley household was visiting Rome, William would become sick and die, and at around 1822, not a long time after her third and only surviving child was born, her husband was sailing with a friend when a massive storm hit and sunk their ship, leaving Percy to drown in the waves.

As much as this must have broken Shelley, she was no stranger to loss. She would go on to write many more stories, novellas, travelogues, essays, and edited and published many of her husbands’ works. All while raising Percy Florence Shelley, her only child, by herself. In February of 1851, she died of a brain tumor at the age of 53. Her legacy lives on in her published works, most especially in one of the most recognizable horror stories ever told.

THIS MAN, THIS BEAST

None Copyright Intended!

Now we get into spoiler territory, Reader Beware…!

The original story, set in the 1800’s, chronicle’s the ambitious journey of Victor Frankenstein. A brilliant but misled man looking to play god. The original story is very conceptual and thematic in its execution, so much so that it’s regarded as the first modern Science-Fiction story, despite being written as a gothic thriller.

Ambition, alienation, and humanity, are some of the main themes of the novel. Victor’s ambitious nature drove him to isolate himself from everyone he knows (hence alienation as a theme), and his loneliness, as well as the monsters, prompts them both to do monstrous things, which gets the reader thinking about human nature, it’s strengths and flaws, and how one could avoid being monstrous. There is so much more to the story than that though, ideas and concepts are abound in the fabric of every word written within the pages of this book, and the interpretations of the reader are a part of that thematic depth.

While doing research on the main themes of the book, I couldn’t help but pick up on how reflective the story is of Mary Shelley’s life. She spent much of her younger years isolated from the world around her, the connections she did have saved her from misery (which is another important theme of the book: connection and misery). I also couldn’t help but think of her own thirst for knowledge, as a result of her stepmother alienating her from a proper education. Of course, the book doesn’t say everything about Mary Shelley as a person, but there are certain aspects that I recognized as being reflective of Shelley’s life at the time she wrote it. I suspect that I’ll recognize more when I actually read the book.

Now, let’s jump a whole century forward. Specifically to 1931. The Great Depression was just beginning, millions of American people were without jobs, families fell apart, suicides increased, and, at the time, the government was doing a half-nosed job of managing the situation, and this was before the “Dust Bowl” drought in the Midwest caused country-wide famine. Despite this though, people still went to the movies. Which, really, makes sense. Escapism at this time was certainly welcome. Of course, the preferred escapism was comedies to lighten the depressing mood, which explains the number of screwball comedies like The Three Stooges and Abbott & Costello (Fun Fact: The Three Stooges is my favorite classic comedy show ever. Of all time). Interestingly enough though, this was also the time when all those classic monster movies were booming in popularity. However, that’s later in the 1930s, we are specifically going to look at 1931. Not one year after the stock market crash that launched the Depression, while money was tight for most businesses’, Hollywood’s influence on American culture held a steady pace, which, as I said, makes sense given the problems of the time.

During, perhaps, the Summer season of that year, James Whale, successful director of WW1 drama Waterloo Bridge, was given a list of options for movies to make by Universal Studio’s chief Carl Laemmle Jr. 1931 was also the same year that Bela Lugosi’s Dracula premiered and gained notoriety. After the film’s success, Lugosi was slated to play Frankenstein’s monster himself in an adaptation, but the project would have been a lot different had we gotten his version, with a different director. Bela Lugosi’s version would have been a slaughterhouse movie, with the “monster” being a pathological nightmare that just killed people the whole film. Needless to say, the production fell through, and the rights to the movie were left floating in the air. Until Whale came around, mainly because he didn’t want to make another war movie or musical.

Many actors were looked at to play the role of Frankenstein’s monster, but Whale chose a lesser-known actor that he spotted during a commute. Boris Karloff, or William Henry Pratt, was an English born stage actor looking to break into the film industry (Boris Karloff is his stage name). At the time he was 44 years old and had been acting for a long time, but could never make it big. Until Whale gave him a note offering a screen-test. I think it’s easy to assume what happens from there.

This Image Belongs to WarnerBros. No Copyright Intended.

The 1931 movie is what we all think about when we hear “Frankenstein” when we hear that term we think of an imposing figure with a flat-topped head, metal rods jutting out of his neck, and an inarticulate speech pattern. However, Karloff’s portrayal of the creature is vastly different from what Mary Shelley had written years before. Rather than imposing and ugly, the creature in the book was close to looking like an attractive human male. But, being an amalgamation of different human body parts, its face and body were immensely warped. Because of this, rather than accept the creature right from the get-go, Victor Frankenstein drove it away upon first sight. In the book, Victor shunning the creature is described as though a father were banishing his own child, which, incidentally, was a catalyst for the creature’s violent behavior later in the story. After being harshly discriminated against by other humans, it hid for a period of time learning to read and speak and write from studying different literature. At some point, it wanted nothing more than a genuine connection.

Overall it was actually a kindred spirit, which is one quality that is consistent between Shelley’s and Karloff’s interpretations. But, in the film, the monster accidentally kills a little girl he was playing with, which leads to a mob of angry humans chasing him down and burning him in a windmill. In the book, the monster intentionally kills as a result of being alienated. He goes back to Frankenstein demanding that he create another creature like him. This exchange leads to a chilling line that I am suddenly in love with and can be seen on pretty much every edition of the book: “You may be my creator, but I am your master. Obey!” (Frankenstein; ch.20, pp.3)

In the end, after suffering so much loss at the hands of the monster, Frankenstein spends his remaining years tracking it down to kill it but dies in his effort. The monster itself, having changed over time, feels pity for its creator and, in elusion anyways, kills itself. You can clearly see why there were so many modifications to the story in the film adaptation, it’s a depressing story, and no one wants a depressing story, especially at the time the film was made. All of that darkness in the book though drove home the ideas Shelley wanted to convey, ideas that are fundamentally human in nature. The film mainly conveyed ideas about genius and madness and the fine line between the two. However, in reality, the line between genius and madness is vague and imperceptible, and the concept of “genius”, just like the so-called “line”, is a human construct and doesn’t necessarily apply to fundamental ideas of human nature(imo).

James Whale and Boris Karloff would go on to make Bride of Frankenstein, but after that their ways split. I read somewhere that Whale was jealous of Karloff’s popularity, and as a result, he forced poor Karloff to walk repeatedly up a case of stairs while carrying a particularly heavy co-star (not a fat joke, the co-star was literally a little heavy). Maybe that’s why they never worked together again. Whatever the case, Karloff would play Frankenstein’s monster once more in Son of Frankenstein, which, to my (little) knowledge, was a box office flop. That same year, 1939, was when Japan bombed Pearl Harbor and initiated WWII, bringing America out of the Great Depression for the war effort.

Many, many, movies would be made based on, or at least inspired by, the Frankenstein story (such as Frankenhooker, Rock N’ Roll Frankenstein, Bikini Frankenstein, and Vampire Girl Vs. Frankenstein Girl among many other “classics” (don’t bother looking them up, I lost so many brain cells just typing the titles here)). Some that are worth mentioning (actually worth mentioning) are Mel Brooks’ Young Frankenstein, a parody of the original movie from the director of Spaceballs, which is a parody of the Star Wars movies. Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein in 1994; a faithful adaptation of the book from Kenneth Branagh (Thor, Murder On The Orient Express(2017)), which was made in the same vein as Bram Stoker’s Dracula (1992) with beautifully done sets and costumes, and a TON of overacting. Van Helsing in 2004, which was made as one of many action/horror movies of the time like Underworld and Hellboy, featured Frankenstein’s monster as a prominent character. More recent examples would be I, Frankenstein (2014) with Aaron Eckhart as the monster, or Adam as he’s called in the film, and was another action/horror movie made along the lines of Underworld. In 2015, there would be two Frankenstein movies, or at least, two with “Frankenstein” in the title. Victor Frankenstein, in November, was an interesting hybrid of the mythologies from the book and the 1931 movie, with James McAvoy as Victor Frankenstein and Daniel Radcliffe as Igor. It’s not the best of the Frankenstein movies but I found it enjoyable enough. In October, the Sci-Fi aspects of the story would be ramped up with the release of FRANK3N5T31N by English horror filmmaker Bernard Rose, and features Carrie Ann Moss (Trinity from Matrix) as one of the modern-day scientists who create and then shun the “monster” to be abused and neglected by humanity. I haven’t seen this one but it appears to follow the plot of the novel pretty closely, the biggest difference being that it’s set in modern-day Los Angeles. Finally, we’re brought to the here and now, where a low-budget Frankenstein movie with a slasher/horror spin by an Amsterdam filmmaker will be released through Movieplex (I don’t want to mention it by name to avoid copyright claims).

A LEGEND OF LOVE AND HORROR

Image by Jay Hill. No Copyright Intended.

There have been so many alternate spins on the legend of Frankenstein, these days the very idea serves as a way for writers to convey their own ideas and pick apart the human condition. Given the current political state of the nation, there have been some Frankenstein-esque stories written to emphasize racism and police brutality in America. There have also been MANY television and movie specials incorporating the Frankenstein mythos with a contextual twist, whether it’s Scooby-Doo, Alvin & The Chipmunks, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and any sitcom referencing the monster, which, in turn, is referencing the movie.

Frankenstein is a disturbing tale that has embedded itself in our collective and individual subconsciousness. Everyone in America is at least familiar with the story of Frankenstein, mainly because of the original movie, and how it’s impacted popular culture since its release. I don’t know of the awareness in other countries, I’m willing to bet though that the U.K. is more familiar with the book itself and Mary Shelley than the 1931 film. Whatever the case, this is a story to treasure, and it seems to me that not enough people are giving it the attention it deserves.

Like all the best stories in history, Frankenstein is iconic because of how human it is. It dissects certain ideas of human nature and gives you an up-close look at them. Victor Frankenstein and his creation are interesting characters not because they’re likable or entertaining, but because their desires, the desire for renown, the desire for connection, are deeply human desires.

I still have not yet read the book, so I can’t really say anything else without it blowing straight out of my bum. Truth be told I haven’t had a lot of exposure to the story aside from movies I’ve watched. It’s hard to not know about the Frankenstein creature when it’s literally everywhere in popular horror culture. But all the research I’ve done for this post has shown me the deeper layers. It’s shown me the profound tragedy at the heart of the narrative, which was fueled by the author’s own tragic experiences with love and loss. I also loved learning about the origin of the classic movie and what made it so popular in the first place.

Whether you love the book for its story and messages or the movie for its cinematic voice, whether you watched Alvin & The Chipmunks Meet Frankenstein as a kid and was the only exposure you’ve ever gotten towards Frankenstein, its really incredible how this story has become an indelible aspect of American culture. What is it about it though that has made it reverberate across generations of storytellers and audiences? What is it about this really grim and disturbing fable that has captured so many people? I think it’s the fact that it speaks to the parts of us that know we are weak because we are human. It speaks to the sympathetic parts of us that can’t help but feel empathy for the doomed man and his unholy creation that is more human than its creator. Those of us who know of her watch for the original architect’s reflection off of her own words, which let us get to know her more. Maybe this story isn’t as enrapturing as it is because it has a monster in it, but because, at its core, it is a deeply, deeply, human story. And for centuries that has both fascinated and terrified us.

Sources

Reeve, Ryan M. “The 18th Century” YouTube.com, 24 Jun. 2015, https://youtu.be/sLSiw1c8ayc. Accessed 7 Oct. 2021.

OnThisDay.com/1797:https://www.onthisday.com/events/date/1797

IMDb.com/MaryShelleyBiography:https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0791217/bio

Biography.com/MaryShelleyBiography:https://www.biography.com/writer/mary-shelley

FamousAuthors.org/MaryShelley:https://www.famousauthors.org/mary-shelley

Dictionary of Literary Biography, Volume 116: British Romantic Novelists, 1789-1832. A Bruccoli Clark Layman Book. Edited by Bradford K. Mudge, University of Colorado at Denver. Gale Research, 1992. pp. 311-325.

PoetryFoundation.org/PercyByssheShelley:https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/percy-bysshe-shelley

Philp, Mark, “William Godwin”, The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (Summer 2021 Edition), Edward N. Zalta (ed.), URL = <https://plato.stanford.edu/archives/sum2021/entries/godwin/&gt;.

Wikipedia.org/MaryJaneGodwin:https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mary_Jane_Godwin

IMDb.com/TriviaPage/Frankenstein1931:https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0021884/trivia/?ref_=tt_trv_trv

SparkNotes.com/Frankenstein:https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/frankenstein/

Britannica, The Editors of Encyclopaedia. “Frankenstein”. Encyclopedia Britannica, 10 Mar. 2020, https://www.britannica.com/topic/Frankenstein. Accessed 30 October 2021.

IMDb.com/FrankensteinMovies.AListOfAllThingsFrankenstein:https://www.imdb.com/list/ls031241505/

Amazon.com/Frankenstein:https://www.amazon.com/s?k=frankenstein&ref=nb_sb_noss_1

IMDb.com/JamesWhaleBiography:https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0001843/bio

Barson, Michael. “James Whale”. Encyclopedia Britannica, 19 Jul. 2021, https://www.britannica.com/biography/James-Whale. Accessed 30 October 2021.

IMDb.com/BorisKarloffBiography:https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000472/bio

I apologize if my approach to this post was a little flawed. Please let me know of any details I might have missed because there most certainly are some that I missed.

I really ended up pouring a lot of myself into this and I hope it was worth it. Thank you and Happy Halloween!

The Devil Inside| Malignant-Movie Review

I do NOT claim ownership of this image.

I’ve spoken before about how I’m not big on horror movies, for various reasons. Namely the fact that I just don’t like being scared (most of the time anyway). However, since we’re a few days into October, and the Fall season in general, I wanted to make an exception since my favorite time of year is also the weirdest/creepiest time of the year. And, admittedly, I do like weird and creepy things.

There’s an appeal to having your brain turned to jelly from a good psychological thriller or horror movie. I particularly like it when there’s an air of mystery to the story. If it’s a Monster-in-The-House movie, I like trying to deduce where the monster came from and what it wants, whether or not there is a mystery plotline or if it’s just a scare-fest.

I enjoyed Malignant in that regard, along with the gnarly action that I avoided but still enjoyed. But for the most part, it did feel like it was trying to find a balance between Raimi-esque campiness and tonally serious horror that it never found.

TONE-DEAF

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Other than Aquaman, I don’t have much experience with James Wan. The filmmaking of the movie was very much akin to what I experienced in Aquaman, with hyper-stylized action scenes and camera movement. The set design was pretty neat and the cinematography could be nice to look at despite a muddled tone. I liked the ideas the film put forward, but they were mostly bogged down by improper execution. The film started with a great scene that was just pure, good, campy fun. Then it completely shifted toward a more serious tone, purposefully denouncing the established one at the beginning of the film. It didn’t bother me too much, since I enjoyed the more serious aspects of the film than I did the funny ones, but the lack of a defined tone made it a little confusing as to what I was watching. It definitely should have shifted towards one or the other; a campy romp like every Sam Raimi movie ever made, or a brain-twisting chiller. I suppose it could have done both, and clearly it really tried to, but it just wasn’t successful in that regard. I don’t think the filmmakers should be crapped on too much about it, out of all the genres, horror and comedy are probably the hardest ones to mix together. It can be done, but it requires an extreme level of skill and attention to detail.

Even though I felt it didn’t always fit the movie, I really liked the score. There’s an opening intro that reminded me of the one in The Incredible Hulk, with little clues dropped through brief glimpses of files and papers, and the music made watching it kinda fun (I’m a sucker for good opening intros, they can be really cool depending on the context).

SAW THAT ONE COMING…

IDONOTCLAIMOWNERSHIP!

What drew me to this movie in the first place was Gabriel, the main antagonist. When I first watched the trailer, I was intrigued by what Gabriel could be. I actually looked up Gabriel the Archangel from Hebrew scripture to see if there was any religious/biblical correlation between that Gabriel and this one. Of course I didn’t find any, which kind of frustrated me, but I knew the only way to get answers was to watch the movie when it came out, which I didn’t do because I was too scared (until last night when I actually got in the mood). No, I was not clued in by the title, I only knew that the title is a word that sounds evil and so fits this film very well, at the time I watched the trailer anyway. For the most part, I really enjoyed Gabriel as a movie villain. He’s a sociopathic nutjob out for revenge. There wasn’t a lot of dimension to him as a character, he was just a fun villain that didn’t just kill people, he brutalized the crap out of them.

As for the main character Madison, I can’t say I cared very much for her, I sympathize for her because of all the trauma she goes through, but there wasn’t very much to her other than her heavy involvement in the plot-twist. Which, while I enjoyed the presentation of said twist, they make zero effort in approaching it subtly. As a result you put the pieces together pretty early on the film. There were some characters I liked, but, near as I can tell, nothing that set them apart from typical horror characters.

SO…MALIGNANT…EXISTS…

No {FZZT} Copyright {BRZZT} Intended…..

I liked Malignant. At the end of the day I’m glad I watched it. However, I can see how some people wouldn’t enjoy it as much, with it’s inconsistent tone and unsubtle build-up towards the twist. While it’s not one of the greatest movies I’ve ever seen, I did get a thrill from watching it. I wouldn’t call it a horror movie, so much as it’s a tightly wound action-thriller. Wan’s filmmaking style can be jarring to watch, but it’s definitely unique from anything else I’ve seen, and I enjoy watching certain events, actions scenes in particular, unfold through this style.

Some might disagree with me on this but I think it’s worth a try, at the very least it’s entertaining. I will caution those of you who are sensitive to blood and gore, there’s a bit of that in this movie. There’s also some content that might be triggering for those with PTSD, specifically if you’ve ever been in an abusive relationship.

What did you think of Malignant? Loved it or hated it? I’m always up for an interesting conversation so leave a comment and thank you for reading this very subjective and opinionated post.

Cosmere Reading Update 1-DNF’d Stormlight: The Way of Kings

For those of you who are not book nerds, DNF stands for Did Not Finish, willingly Did Not Finish. As is the case for me with the Way of Kings, the first book in Brandon Sanderson’s fantasy epic The Stormlight Archive.

I won’t lie, I’m disappointed myself in many ways. First of all, I’m going to list the things that I did and didn’t like about it. Then I’m going to discuss my plan going forward, because I do intend to pick back up WoK sometime in the future. I want to love the Stormlight Archive, I want to love the Cosmere in general, but I think it’s going to take quite a bit of time for me to really appreciate Stormlight for what it is.

In case your curious, I made it a little past page 500 before dropping it. I know, I know. If I’d kept going just a little farther, past page 700 from what I’ve heard, then it would’ve gotten really good. And I don’t deny that. There have been times when I had mixed feelings about the story directions Sanderson went with in a couple of his books, but in the end I always come out having had a good time and eager to see what else is in store. In the case of Way of Kings…well that’s what I’m going to get into now.

  • Dislike: It’s so slow! No amount of prior experience with slow-burn stories (which, admittedly, isn’t much) has prepared me for how jarringly slow WoK is. It was easier for me to get through Well of Ascension because I was already familiar with the characters and the story. Despite how slow it was, I got through Well of Ascension because the characters and their actions and behaviors weren’t new to me, and they were always having fun and interesting interactions. In WoK, the characters are kept in their own individual worlds. The main cast aren’t even aware of each other’s existence in the amount I read. And each of their stories move at their own gingerly pace. The knowledge that this is an epic fantasy series kind of makes you wonder where all of the epicness is. I think I know what Sanderson is doing in Way of Kings, of course. Just like how Dune set everything up for Dune: Messiah and subsequent Dune books, WoK sets everything up for the Stormlight Archive. Still, nothing could have prepared me for how slow it was. I like to consider myself a patient person but patience in of itself only lasts so long.
  • Like/Dislike: The worldbuilding is interesting, but for a Sanderson book it feels like there isn’t much of it. The details I did get are fascinating, but there was so much I wanted that I wasn’t getting. An example that comes to mind are the wildlife of Roshar. Many creatures on the planet developed thick outer shells to survive highstorms (Roshar’s super-storms), which is cool, but it raised so many questions that weren’t being answered. I’m aware that he can’t provide every detail imaginable with his writing. As interesting as Roshar is, I just felt like there were depths not being explored. So many interesting details that weren’t being provided to me. I can’t help but make comparisons between Sanderson and Frank Herbert, between Roshar and Arrakis. When I read Dune, I was visiting this world, universe really, teaming with life and history. The way Herbert wrote Dune made it possible to feel the density of this space-opera universe he created. I’m well aware that might be an unfair comparison, it’s also entirely possible that I have more of a taste in Sci-Fi worldbuilding than I do Fantasy, but it’s one that springs to mind whenever I think about the worldbuilding of Roshar. Sanderson and Herbert definitely have very different ways of approaching worldbuilding, what Herbert pulled off in one book Sanderson likely does in two or three. That’s not to say that Way of Kings’ worldbuilding wasn’t interesting, I was very fascinated by many elements, but there were some others that I felt needed more depth, or maybe they were just things I had already seen before. The pacing did not help investment wise either.
  • Dislike: I’m gonna say it. Brandon Sanderson’s prose is terrible. I appreciate him writing his books in a clear and concise way that doesn’t muddle the story like pretty prose would with other books (not that pretty prose is bad), but, no matter how you slice it, first-person/second-person, his writing style is going to be clunky and all-over-the-place. He does a good job communicating the thoughts and feelings of the characters, and the action scenes in, pretty much, every book I’ve read of his has been a joy to read. But he writes in such an undefined, unfounded way that it can really take me out of the story sometimes. You know how in some anime when the characters won’t waste a second to have internal and external monologues in practically every second of every scene? That’s kind of what Sanderson’s writing is like. Not in the sense that the characters themselves will behave like an anime character, but in the sense that you often have to just be patient and suspend disbelief as there will be tons of over-explanations, or info-dumping, for certain things, mostly concerning world-building. There will also be sudden breaks in a characters thought process whenever an external force diverts their attention, which can be annoying and cliché. (BTW, my apologies to anime fans, I do like anime but there are some that really test my patience)

Okay, so…there were some redemptive aspects to Way of Kings. I really enjoyed the perspectives of all the characters, Shallan and Dalinar’s in particular, and I appreciate Sanderson taking his time with building up something that will certainly need a lot of time to be built up. I like how visual his writing is, it sometimes feels like I’m watching my favorite morning/mid-afternoon cartoon or TV show rather than reading a book. And I’m a sucker for his handling of characters, in spite of some flaws I always enjoy the personalities he imbues his books with. But Way of Kings had such a learning curve with the magic and worldbuilding and it moved so slowly and it’s so long that I found myself powering through an existential crisis.

I really want to give it another try, but my reading is such a mess (20+ bought, paid for, unread books on my shelf), and there’s so many books that I want to check out that, at some point, I figured I’d just drop Way of Kings in favor of a book I might enjoy more. It’s become my opinion that slow stories need more of your attention than a faster-paced story would since, often, they’re the most impactful and have the most to say, unless, of course, the writer is really bad at what they’re doing.

So, for the remainder of the year, I’m going to read some creepy and/or Fall-ish books to get in the spirit of the season. I’ll do the same with Winter by reading some winter-y books I have and have not read (if anyone has any recommendations for a romantic/mysterious/atmospheric winter-themed book I would very much appreciate some input). I’m not sure what books would be good to read during Spring, help me out with that one anyone? And finally, when Summer roles around, I’ll jump back into Stormlight and give it another go. I really do have a feeling that it’ll be worth my time, but first I want to lessen the load and be consistent with the seasons. I think I’m very much a seasonal reader.

If anyone has any disagreements feel free to share, just be sure to share them kindly. It is possible to argue in calm, controlled, and considerate ways as opposed to just screaming out into the empty vaccum of space.

Thank you for reading and have a good day!

Community Hindsight

Hello!

Upon further research into how Dan Harmon tells stories I realized that many of the inconsistent character arcs, romances, etc. in Community are, just, apart of his storytelling style.

Harmon stands out from most comedy writers in that he injects some reality into shows such as Community and Rick and Morty. Jeff, Britta, Abed (even though Abed is perfect no matter how you slice it), Troy, Shirly, Annie, and especially Pierce are all so flawed to make them all the more real. This is a storytelling technique that is consistently seen in Brandon Sanderson’s books. A character with a balance between personal strengths and weaknesses makes for an interesting character. The same could be said of the those in the Mass Effect games (the trilogy, not the flophouse that is Andromeda). Characters like Garrus, Tali, Liara, and Wrex have certain positive and negative personality traits and backstories that make for densely compelling characterization. In Community however, the people in the show are far more flawed than any of the characters seen in any Brandon Sanderson novel or Bioware video game. Now, admittedly, I haven’t read every Sanderson book or played every Bioware game, but I’m willing to guarantee that, even if I were to do so, the way they tell stories would still differ from how Harmon does it.

Harmon makes his characters flawed, not in the sense that they’re interesting people with their own individual quirks, but in the sense that they are not people you would want to meet in real-life. At all. There are a number of episodes that show just how toxic this group is. While it’s delightful in an entertainment sense, those same episodes don’t stray away from showing how negatively they’re behavior affects others. Sure, there are redemptive qualities to this otherwise dramatically dysfunctional friend-group, they honestly care about each other and there are positive aspects to their personalities, overall though, Harmon intentionally creates these hilariously flawed characters to capitalize on important, and kind of basic, themes. His plotting also plays a big part in it. He created his own story structure that I use quite a bit in my own writing.

So yeah, the storytelling in Community always felt a little janky to me, but upon learning about Harmon’s style, it started to make much more sense. As far as I know, his methods are taken to a whole new level in Rick and Morty. Community stands out among most sitcoms though because it’s not about selfish people getting better and finding something more meaningful than what they personally desired for eight seasons, it’s about people who are consistently selfish but care about each other and others enough to be the least bit good. Despite that fact, we learn a lot from them. And laugh quite a bit as a result of their frequent stupidity.

If you really want to understand more, or if what I’ve said here made no sense whatsoever, I’d recommend watching Wisecrack’s video on YouTube about how Harmon tells stories. They put it in much more perspective than I do and it serves as the foundational basis for this post.

What Makes Dan Harmon Different

Thank you if you stayed till the end of this post. The purpose of this particular post mostly serves as clarification for my, albeit, newly acquired understanding of Dan Harmon’s style in case anyone gets mad at me for goofing up in my Community review.

Thank you for reading, have a good day.