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How to Train Your Dragon: Dreamworks Slays, But Only Slightly.

It’s OK. Relax, boy. They said ‘The Hills’ is being canceled.
Rating: 7 out of 10

In the last decade we have been increasingly spoiled by legendary quality in the animated film world. Pixar exploded onto the scene and suddenly changed our Sunday afternoon trip to the movies with our little ones from a chore to a joy. Parents all over the country were now dragging kids along to see cartoons the kids hadn’t even asked about yet. “Trust me, son. You haven’t seen Toy Story 1 or 2 yet, but you’ll pick it up quickly. Now stop running around or we’ll lose our place in line.” Those wonderment wizards behind the screen also took notice of the change in demographic and began to layer their fare with subtle and intelligent adult humor, making it possible (and now possibly common) to see a grown man or adult couple walking into one of these movies without a single child in tow. I applaud this shift in content because I believe it helps remind us all to be a kid ourselves time and again.

How to Train Your Dragon is the newest effort from Dreamworks Animation, the studio once saved from going under by their imaginary friend Shrek. This tale, based on a popular children’s book of the same title by Cressida Cowell, surrounds a scrawny, accident-ridden viking named Hiccup (voiced expertly by Jay Baruchel) who stumbles upon a legendary dragon that no one has laid eyes on and lived. Finding he doesn’t have the heart to kill the dragon, he becomes the proud owner of a dangerous new pet and a planet-sized secret. Oh, his dad is chief of the village as well and their main chore in life is killing dragons. It’s like sprinkles on top.

While this colorful concoction doesn’t match up with headliners like Shrek, Kung-Fu Panda and Monsters vs. Aliens, it provides enough chuckles and consistent story flow to find itself placed above other Dreamworks outings like Flushed Away, Over the Hedge and Shark Tale. The main character of Hiccup is endearing in his self-deprecation and feels perfectly suited to the delivery of Baruchel. Also, if the animation studios have learned anything, it is to make any animal or magically living item into the most adorable thing imaginable. Dreamworks went for the gold here with their rendering of the dragon we all come to know as Toothless. They instilled him with a number of feline qualities, making him instantly loved by all cat owners in the crowd. They also have perfected the shifting of eye sizes (small for suspicion and huge for sugary-sweet cuteness) to the point where it almost feels like manipulation. I could have railed against being used like that, but I had already melted into my seat and mixed into the popcorn box below.

Other voice talents that held up their ends are Gerard Butler as Hiccup’s overly heroic Dad, Stoick, America Ferrera as the young competitor/love interest named Astrid, Jonah Hill as Snotlout (who to me sounded and looked on screen a lot like Jack Black), Kristen Wiig as Ruffnut, one half of a brother/sister twin pairing, and lastly Christopher Mintz-Plasse as the role-playiing stats nerd, Fishlegs.

The End of the Page Recommendation: How to Train Your Dragon provides enough chuckles to make it worthwhile, but the big screen is not totally necessary. Matinee pricing should be a safe bet. Oh, 2D is fine as well (skip shelling out the extra cash for 3D on this outing).

Twilight – New Moon: New Director, Same Failures

Yes, this is the only facial expression I have. Why do you ask?

Rating: 2 out of 10

At the screaming and preening delight of tweens across the nation, the second installment of the uber-popular Twilight franchise hit the screens at midnight Thursday and proceeded to break numerous first-day records. Leaving Dark Knight in the dust, New Moon separated tween parents from the money in their wallets at a rate of $72 million dollars in the first 24 hours. It slipped a little bit in the weekend total and five-day gross, so in the end Dark Knight and a few other choice films still rank higher, but Summit Entertainment and Twilight fans alike know their precious franchise is very much alive and cemented in cinema futures for the next few years.

For those who might not already know, New Moon takes the love story between Edward and Bella and drops in the ever-so-popular third wheel, Jacob. Edward bails from the gray and rainy world of Forks because he believes he will only end up hurting Bella more and in his absence Jacob grows to be more than just the nice kid form the reservation. She allows him to drag her up from the depression Edward left her in and finds herself caught even more now in the middle of not just a battle for the hearts of two men, but two monsters as Jacob reveals he too is more than meets the eye.

Let me just tell you all up front that after seeing the first Twilight film and finding it to be fairly abysmal, I borrowed all four books from a co-worker and read them over the period of a week. My reason for doing this was I wanted to know if all the blame for the movie’s faults could be laid upon the shoulders of Catherine Hardwicke and her newly famous cast, but I came to realize that not all of it was hers to bear. That shared responsibility continues in this new chapter as the reins got taken over by Chris Weitz, who last graced the screen helming the CGI-cluster bomb The Golden Compass (another example of shared blame between director and source material). So to be fair, the volume of issues there are in this film are not with the movie alone, but with the source material it is born from.

My main and most pounding issue with New Moon is the length. There is no reason for nearly two-and-a-half hours of this. If you cut out even half of the strained dramatic pauses in every piece of dialogue, this could possibly make the cut as a one-hour TV special. Not a single person in the film seems to be able to finish a sentence without stopping and staring at something or someone, forcing unnecessary importance on what they are about to say next. Again, this is inherent in the books, although in that medium, you as the reader can just choose to read faster (which admittedly, these are incredibly fast reads). In the darkness of the movie theater you are trapped, glued by the increasing price of the movie ticket you bought to get in, to stay there and suffer through page after page of visual ellipses.

Secondly, when I was finished with the books I actually had hope for this movie because I felt it was the most enjoyable of the books. The relationship that grows between Bella and Jacob is actually the only relationship in the entire series that you get to witness blossom and actually believe in. Bella and Edward seem to fall hopelessly and endlessly in love with each other from first glance and they spend the next two-thousand pages trying to prove it to each other, but as a reader and audience member we don’t get to really witness that journey. It all feels too heavy without any foundation. Unfortunately, after only one pleasing montage of Bella and Jacob, the super-buff best friend spends the rest of the movie taking on every boring and melodramatic trait of his vampire nemesis. Long stares, brooding glances into the distance, gruff sighs between each and every word. Be still my beating…oh wait, it is still, aw crap, this movie put me in a coma.

Lastly, without dragging this out too long, New Moon actually increases one of the main problems from the first chapter; Bella is not a likable character, not in the least. Without being able to root for her, we can’t honestly route for either of the pseudo-men fighting for her affections. She mopes, whines and is overall gloomy from front to back in this film and she gives you nothing to attach to in order to want her to be happy.

In terms of the acting, it’s patently unfair to critique these people on performances largely hobbled by the books themselves. Kristen Stewart, Robert Pattinson and Taylor Lautner are all suffering from what I politely refer to as “The Star Wars Prequel Phenomenon.” After those movies, hordes of people walked around tearing apart Natalie Portman, Hayden Christensen, Ewen McGregor and Liam Neeson, but true movie fans knew all along that their horrid performances were not accurate representations of their actual ability. It’s just what happens when talented people are stuck in untalented movies. Kristen was redeeming in Adventureland, Robert got amazing reviews for Little Ashes and Taylor, well, he might not have a ton to his credit yet, but he’s the only one who actually seems to have the ability to shine at all in this franchise, so I expect big things from him once the caskets are finally snapped shut here. Even the addition of an acting prodigy like Dakota Fanning didn’t raise the bar even an inch (although to be fair, she gets approximately four minutes of screen time in this chapter; she’ll be much more featured in the ones to come). The reality of the situation is hidden just beneath the surface during a particular scene where Bella and Edward are in class together and everyone is watching Romeo and Juliet. This is high school melodrama, this is uber-heightened puppy love built up beyond all possible boundaries and while that works for classic stories like Romeo and Juliet, New Moon and it’s associated books fail completely to even dip their sparkly-toed feet into such hallowed waters.

The End of the Page Recommendation: Obviously Twilight fanatics don’t need to read a review to figure out whether or not to see this, but for the rest of the reading audience, if you haven’t read the books, this is not going to bring you anything but confusion as to why it’s making such ridiculous money.

Emergency: Neil Strauss Bugs Out

Lesson One: Stop trying to pull the lever on the cover. It’s not going to happen.

Rating: 9 out of 10

There are certain voices out there, particular tones and rhythms floating through the stacks at your local bookstore. Original, unique and challenging writers who take their stories to new levels each and every time they grace the page. Voices like these are few and far between and we are lucky to be talking about one of them right now. Neil Strauss whispered his way into popular culture inside the words and stories of others, specifically those who were already enjoying massive levels of celebrity. He co-wrote biographies for Dave Navarro, Motley Crue, Jenna Jameson and Marilyn Manson, bringing his talent as a wordsmith to the lives of the edgy and fringe in our society. Then he decided to sink himself into the vacuous and vapid world of the pick-up artist in his next best seller, The Game. While trying to extricate himself from the superficial and shallow lands of the Los Angeles bar scene, something happened which not only changed his life, but the lives of every person on the planet: 9/11. After the fall of the twin towers, Neil began to realize that the society we all rely on is far more fragile than we want to realize. That thought burrowed deep into his psyche and dragged him onto a new path, one that led him not only to his ability to survive in a time of crisis, but also to a realization about how he fits into the world around him.

Emergency is a nearly herculean effort to imagine all the complications that would arise from the collapse of society and then how to survive through each and every one of them. Strauss goes on a bender of classes and in-person instructions about survival techniques, hunting, urban tactics and even quick-draw pistol training. Each new skill enabled him to take another step towards complete autonomy in the case of a social and financial meltdown. Along the way he also tries to share this newly acquired knowledge with his girlfriend, which proved in some cases to be harder than the course itself.

The book slips and slides between funny and frightening, bringing chaos and comedy together in a style only Strauss can supply. He details each step he takes along the way, from learning how to kill, skin and cook a goat himself to how long it really takes to lease an apartment and become a dual citizen in another country. Yet, what good is it to be a dual citizen if the airports are all shut down and you can’t get to your foreign villa? Strauss covers that too when he learns how to fly a personal helicopter. Sure, it can be argued that most people who read this book will not have the same resources Strauss does and that will severely impede their efforts to follow in his intensely prepared footsteps, but there is a treasure trove of knowledge in this book which can be easily applied in your everyday life (like the simple fact that if your water is shut off, the water in the tank on the back of your toilet is actually clean and drinkable). Underneath the sarcasm and self-deprecating humor of Strauss, he actually relates a number of incredibly valuable lessons between these pages. One passage worth looking into is where he details running his urban survival test and being interrupted in a men’s bathroom while dressed in drag. Trust me, there is incredibly intelligent logic behind the situation. Over and over Strauss proves that little things can become intensely important in times of crisis and it behooves all of us to learn at least some of them, if not all.

One thing that also draws me back to Strauss again and again is he really takes these journeys. These are not just research books with cold and empty facts filling the pages. Each lesson is one painted and colored through his experience of starting out a semi-vain and technologically-needy Los Angeles writer and ending up an everyday survivalist and part-time medical disaster volunteer. His original intention was to avoid death when the shit eventually hits the fan, but what he gained was a universal appreciation for life and the necessary skills for preserving it.

Recommendation: For a frank look at how fragile the web we’ve woven for ourselves really is, dig in. For those who break out into a cold sweat just turning on the news or browsing Web M.D., you might want to keep browsing the bookshelves. Try a cookbook specializing in chocolate.

New Look, New Home

Conquering is fun!

[image via Flickr: mr la rue]

Big greetings to all the readers out there. You might have been a little troubled and possibly emotionally scarred by the disruption in service yesterday, so for that I humbly apologize. I’ve been working on a new blog design over the past couple months and it finally reached the point where I needed to turn it all on and see it work in action. There were a few bumps in the road along the way, but everything seems to be in place now. There will be more design changes to come, but hopefully they will not interrupt service at all.

Thanks as always for reading and please feel free to leave comments on the posts, share them using the new cool “Share This” widget and keep coming on back! In the coming months you will see some new voices, new topics and an expansion on where this whole project is going. If you have any interest in writing for The End of the Page or maybe just a suggestion on the blog itself, leave me a comment or send an e-mail.

The Zombie Survival Guide: Humor Done Dead Serious

If only I’d read this before summer camp of ’84…

Rating: 8 out of 10

You’re standing on the top of your local water tower, while below you is a moaning and clawing horde of the walking dead. Your pump action shotgun has proved mostly useless and you’re almost out of shells anyway. What could you do to summon help? Is there any way out of your self-made trap? What could you have done to prepare better for this onslaught of undead? These are all great questions that many people think they will never have to ask themselves, but in the world of Max Brooks those questions get asked each and every day and he takes them very seriously. (Kind of…)

The Zombie Survival Guide is a completely serious approach to the methods and training needed to withstand a zombie attack. The first section details which weapons are good to use (tried and true machetes will always outdo flashy firepower, like an Uzi), which terrains are best to travel in (cities are great for location protection, but easy to get trapped in, while the frozen tundra is technically your best bet), and what kind of equipment you should pack if you’re going on the run (surprisingly, this list is eerily similar to any well-prepared hunter). Once you have the basics down for offense, defense and escape tactics, the guide proceeds to detail the long and largely secretive history of zombie attacks all over the world. From the pre-historic regions of Central Africa to an attack on the Virgin Islands only six years ago, you’ll read case after case of cover-up, deceit and blatant denial of any existence of the zombie phenomenon. Unfortunately for those trying to keep it hidden, zombies have a long standing tradition of sitting and waiting for the right moment to strike.

Max Brooks is the son of comedy legend Mel Brooks and screen icon Anne Bancroft, so life in the entertainment world was in his blood. He also picked up from his father the truth that making people laugh is very serious business and shouldn’t be taken lightly if you plan on doing it well. He also honed his craft in the writer’s room of Saturday Night Live for three seasons and wrote for over forty episodes. I have no idea where he found the time, but in those crazy days of skit comedy and hair-pulling deadlines, he wrote this survival guide against the undead, which went on to become a New York Times Bestseller. The completely serious tone he maintains throughout the novel is critical to the underlying humor of it. He knows that true humor comes from when the person delivering the punch line doesn’t know it’s a punch line. There is an odd sensation while you move through the chapters where slowly you almost forget it’s a joke. I wasn’t getting any urges to stock up on kerosene or long-range rifle scopes, but there is a lot of truth tucked in between those pages. The survival techniques spelled out in the book could easily help any hiker or traveler stuck in the woods without food or one being chased by a bear. Those kernels of down-to-earth facts help strengthen the tone and keep the reader hooked in. In the historical sections, Max also brilliantly laid them out in chronological order, which allowed him to refer to past instances as the reason or cause of future outbreaks (as in cases were the zombies from one attack were not properly disposed of, only to come back years later to strike once more).

Max went on from the success of this book to pen his sequel, World War Z, which again is a seriously toned historical fiction detailing oral accounts from people who survived the worldwide outbreak of the zombie race. I actually read that one first, mainly because it was given to me as a gift, but the order of the two books matters very little in terms of enjoyment. World War Z is now being adapted into a movie for Paramount Pictures and Brad Pitt’s company, Plan B Entertainment. Max turned down the offer to write the script since he felt he wouldn’t get the best out of it, so the screenwriting duties fell to J. Michael Straczynski, who is currently enjoying great acclaim for his possibly Oscar nominated script, Changeling (not necessarily from me, but I’m only one voice among the many). No real word on what Max is working on now, but you can be sure it will be serious…seriously funny.

Recommendation: If you’ve ever read any of those other survival guide books, take a crack at this and see how easy it is to get sucked in. Also, this is a true goldmine for any fan of the undead.

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How I Became Stupid: Intelligently Ironic

There was another hole in this shirt, I swear it…

With a title like this gracing the front cover, you might get the impression that this is a tale of wrong choices, longing for the good ole’ days and trying to figure out how it all got away.

You’d be mostly wrong…mostly.

This is a tale about Antoine, who feels forever burdened by his astounding intelligence and natural curiosity about the world he inhabits. The weight of his knowledge is stifling and he longs to become one of the drolling, ignorant masses he sees around him every day. His goal by whatever means necessary is to dumb himself down into apparent nothingness in a crowd. Only then, he thinks, or deduces rather, can he find true happiness. He tries various methods and over-complicated ways to end up in places most people find themselves without thinking at all. This sarcastically comic journey follows these brave attempts to limit the reaches of his mind and the effects it has on those who know him, before and after his inclusion into the world of the stupid. Antoine is a wanderer, a rover, a vagabond of the mind, yearning for a place where his mind doesn’t run free because it sees nothing and nowhere to run to.

Martin Page, a French author, created Antoine almost as a reaction and retribution of the world of today. We cling to evolution and parade around preening in front of all other creatures, but not with our feathers or our fur, since we lost those long ago, but we preen with our minds and our reason. As a race we lord our cognitive thought over all other organisms, but Antoine shows us it comes with a hefty price tag. Martin’s novel gives us a glimpse into the mirror, a vision of someone we all hide deep in the closet who judges other people, overthinks each and every detail of the life before his eyes and who has a problem taking anything at face value. The eternal question posed by the book is whether there is a way to tone down that voice in our mind? Reel in the ego and superego and just become one with the mass consciousness, oh, and don’t forget to enjoy it as well.

This was a quick and enjoyable read, laced with wry wit, sarcasm and unique characters, people who would have to be incredibly singular just to stand hanging around Antoine in the first place. I felt the lesson I took away was you can never run away from who you really are and to be truly happy you need to start with acceptance of that fact. A tall tale indeed, but one that can be accomplished with a little time, energy and possibly a nice, creamy bar of dark chocolate.

(p.s. Thanks to Nikki for sending me the book! )

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The Yiddish Policeman’s Union: Chasing the curly locks of the end.

If you stare closely at this cover and relax your eyes, you’ll see a schooner.

Only on rare occasions can you walk out of a movie and say, “You know what, that was just as good as the book. I’m shocked.” For that to happen two things need to come together, a superb writer with a cinematic mind and a visionary director who appreciates and respects the original literary work. I can only think of a twinkling of titles that fall under that elusive ray of sunlight:

American Psycho (book written by Bret Easton Ellis, film directed by Mary Harron)

The Basketball Diaries (book written by Jim Carroll, film directed by Scott Kalvert)

The Crow (graphic novel written by James O’Barr, film directed by Alex Proyas)

Fight Club (book written by Chuck Palanhuik, film directed by David Fincher)

The Princess Bride (book written by William Goldman, film directed by Rob Reiner)

The Outsiders (book written by S.E. Hinton, film directed by Francis Ford Coppola)

You might be wondering what this list has to do with this book review, if anything at all, but here it is. The most important entry to this list:

Wonder Boys (book written by Michael Chabon, film directed by Curtis Hanson)

I actually did see the movie before reading that book, but I was amazed by how well it had been translated to film. Going back and watching the movie again I was able to fully appreciate both mediums the story was presented in and I felt they really complimented each other. So my excitement was instantly peaked when the Coen Brothers announced that they acquired the rights to adapt Michael Chabon’s latest book, The Yiddish Policeman’s Union. People were already sending me giddy whispers about how good this book was, so it already had a place on my reading list, but the Coen Brothers helped escort it up the red carpet to the top.

The story surrounds a rugged policeman on the end of a social and lifelong bender. What seems like an innocuous suicide in the room below him sends him spiraling down a road lined with Yiddish mafias, ghosts of relationships past, familial bonds kept and broken, topped off nicely with a dollop of worldwide religious revolution. Our dogged protagonist, Detective Meyer Landsman, didn’t see this all coming when he woke up that morning, but his lockjaw determination won’t let him be swayed from finding the truth behind the black hats and black badges placed in front of him. Landsman is the classic take-it-on-the-chin hero, treading the shoes of Jake from Chinatown and Rick from Casablanca. Once the problem is unleashed in his brain, it itches and itches until he breaks each and every rule to find the calm inside his mental storm.

Growing up in a Jewish family I figured I would be able to follow along with the lingo and traditions mentioned in the book, but the level of detail is intense and intimidating. Admittedly it took me a few chapters to finally wrap my head around what each term meant, as examples: “sholem” for “gun” and “shoyfer” for “cell phone”. Chabon paints the town of Stika, Alaska and its Yiddish contingent wonderfully, their traditions, their struggles and their dedication to the cause, whatever that cause might be since each faction inside the group was different. Each upturned stone shows a deeper hole to crawl down and the ropes and strings begin to pull the fragmented pieces of the story together into one amazing and meticulous tale.

Still reeling from the brilliance of “No Country for Old Men” I can only imagine how the Coen Brothers will bring this to life. I’m sure it will be a sight to see and like sprinkles on a warm, red velvet cupcake, Chabon’s words will be a delight to hear. Supposedly there are a couple of other films in line for the dynamic duo of directors, so you all have time to run out, pick up this book and let it live with you, as it now lives with me.

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All Tomorrow’s Parties: A Bridge to the Future Unknown

“It’s not a dream?” “No,” he said.

Timelines and parallel possibilities come together and break apart during each waking second of the day and every sleeping moment of the night. Little connections are being made everywhere that ripple and reverberate throughout society and sometimes, just sometimes, people find a way to get in front of the chaos wave, trying to direct it towards their own desired outcomes. So when telling a story like this it only makes sense to place most of it on a large, broken down bridge, as it leads in one way to a whole new existence, but in another way it leads to nowhere at all.

For those who don’t know about William Gibson, here is a tasty refresher course. Gibson can’t be said to have burst onto the cyberpunk scene in 1984 with his landmark novel Neuromancer, the reason being that he created the cyberpunk scene. He refers in a large number of his books to nodal points and connectors that bring about change in the world they exist, well, he himself is one of those points. With the introduction of Neuromancer into popular culture he coined the first ever usage of the word “cyberspace” and thereby defined it. Once that found its place in our lexicon the growing world of virtual reality and cyberspace became molded as much by his visions than any scientific field or philosopher. It’s not even too far to say that Neuromancer became the unofficial bible of this burgeoning virtual world. From that point on he was raised to cult-like status by science fiction fans around the world and her has never strayed far from the cyberpunk genre, following things up with titles such as Count Zero, Burning Chrome, Mona Lisa Overdrive, Virtual Light and Idoru. He also wrote the short story Johnny Mnemonic, which was adapted into a completely silly movie with Keanu Reeves as the star.

No that you’ve had your literary history class, let’s discuss this particular work, All Tomorrow’s Parties.

This story revolves around a group of people who unknowingly find themselves at the nexus point of a major change in the world as they know it. Some of them are fighting to stop it, while others are trying to get ahead of it and direct it to their own ends. Lastly, the group which we all feel the most kinship with, are those who are stuck in the middle without any comprehension of how big this situation really is. On the heroic side; Laney, a unwilling patient from an orphanage who was given a drug that now allows him to see the flow of data and understand it on a deeply fundamental level; Rydell, a one time rent-a-cop who encapsulates an archetype that Gibson loves to write, the dark trenchcoat-wearing, quiet-talking, lighting-quick moving, unwilling loner hero; Silencio, a boy who doesn’t speak, but has an innate talent for digging underneath the information he is shown to find the information that he wants; Chevette, a young, punky looking girl who’s undesired ability is being in the wrong place at the wrong time with the wrong man on her arm; and lastly the appearance of Rei Toei, a completely virtual Japanese pop star who is totally sentient, universally desired and somehow nowhere to be found. These are the characters that Gibson weaves into this tale and the enviroment he sets them loose in is a nearly destroyed futuristic version of the Golden Gate bridge, which since a massive earthquake no longer has cars packed on it in traffic jams, but an entire city of squatters and outcasts aptly called “Bridge People”.

One of the things I love about Gibson is his staccato writing style. The stories snap and break as he slices over to a new timeline or another character’s point of view. There is a beat and rythym to his writing that is unique to him alone. I will admit that if you have no knowledge at all of computers and the digital culture, there are going to be a lot of concepts and terms thrown around in Gibson’s work that won’t make a lick of sense. He is the Granddaddy of Cyberpunk and it would definitely be good to brush up on the topic before diving into his world. As for my feelings on this story, I liked it. It is a little tough getting into it, mainly due to so many different threads being started, but once they start to intertwine with each other the excitement from each one builds on the next and you ride that wave until the final page. Overall not quite as intriguing as some of his other books, Pattern Recognition being the most recent I read before this, but still a solid effort and a fun dip into the seedy side of the tech world.

Duma Key: Unlocking more than you ever wanted to see

Continuing his quest to become the most prolific horror writer in history, Stephen King unleashed a new tale of heaven meets hell on the sandy beaches of an island called Duma Key. The story follows a sturdy Midwestern man named Edgar Freemantle who has worked long and worked hard to have the good life. On the far end of middle age he has built his construction company into a multi-million dollar empire, kept his wife happy and healthy and raised his two wonderful daughters. Retirement plans weren’t nearly on his mind yet, but other plans, more devious and more red plans were already in action. A crane on his work-site backs into his truck and just misses taking his life. What it did succeed in taking was his right arm, a crack out of his skull, the mobility of his right leg and lastly, the happiness of his marriage. Edgar begins to have rage issues when he wakes up in the hospital and after numerous therapy sessions it is decided that maybe he needs what is referred to as a “geographic cure”. Time to pick up and move on. His doctor also suggests a hobby, “something to build hedges against the night” as King put it. Edgar sees a brochure for Duma Key and knows it is the place he will start his new life. The hobby he digs up from his past is drawing, which leads to painting, which leads to things he never could have dreamed of in his worst nightmares.

King succeeds continually at creating characters that not only are believable, but likable as well. I instantly felt I knew Edgar Freemantle, along with Jerome Wireman, the wise and painfully genuine gentleman who lives down the beach, and Elizabeth, the elderly woman who’s past is not only hidden from others, but from herself as well due to the onset of Alzheimer’s. In classic King form he sets up a relaxed and easygoing pace, steadying the reader for the roller coaster they are strapped into. Then with a soft turn of the page and a quick hidden scream you find yourself tearing through the final 250 pages at breakneck speeds (I actually finished the book at 2:30am this morning, no rest for the wicked or those who imagine it). Beyond the storyline, just underneath the surface, this story is also about the muses, the voices from those hidden places that speak to all people who create, artists, writers, builders, musicians, etc. We read in here the dangers that lie beneath the ebb and flow of what we safely refer to as “inspiration”. King asks if you really know where that great line came from, how that picture in your head got so clear, and what would you do if you realized their was power just lurking out of focus behind those ideas.

I’ve been a fan of King’s for most of my life, in fact it was with him that I really gained my appreciation of literature as a whole. He was an author passed down to me by my Mom and I initially read him as something else her and I could talk about, but soon enough I found myself diving from one strange and haunting world to another. I can’t seem to get enough of King’s talent for twisting the simple and ordinary into mesmerizing and terrifying. Yes, he can be called a “pop author”, but you can never call him lazy. The man is a writing machine and even through his own personal declarations of retirement, he shows no signs of slowing down. To that, I say, “Thank goodness.”

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