I Review Shirley Jackson's "The Haunting of Hill House" because a mutt pooped on my mom's new carpet.

Well if mom didn't want the dog to take a massive dump on her carpet she shouldn't have yelled at him.

That's how this book report came about. I found a three-legged pug on my way back from the bookstore. He was shaking and trembling, but he seemed to like me. So I bring him home and he hobbles right into the living room and on mom's new carpet. I swear he wouldn't have pooped if she didn't come in screaming about a mutt on her new carpet. She scared the s*** out of him, literally.

Long story short I had to take the pug to the shelter and now I have to write another book report for her. As you know, she jumps at any excuse to get me to write these stupid things. I don't see the stain because the carpet was brown, but she says I have to write a book report for every day the stain is still there. After this book report I'm scrubbing the crap out of that carpet, literally.

Thankfully, I bought a relatively enjoyable book to read at the bookstore. It's called "The Haunting of Hill House" by Shirley Jackson. If you went to school or a university you probably read her short story "The Lottery" in an English class. It's one of the most widely anthologized short stories ever. More than likely it was in one of the two hundred dollar anthologies you had to buy for college. Hooray for learning.

First thing I have to say is do yourself a favor and read this book alone at night. Preferably with only one lamp so dim that the light doesn't reach all the corners of the room.  You don't need to read it like that, but it can be fun. Especially when you hear groaning, shuffling footsteps, and see a squat round shadow step into the light. Then you realize it's your mom sleepwalking again. So you throw something at her, something solid because she won't remember it in morning.

Anyway, Jackson's "The Haunting of Hill House" is one of the original haunted house stories. She wrote about haunted houses before it was cool. In fact she made them cool and because it's original. There are the obvious tropes that come along with haunted house stories. Here's a checklist:

• isolated mansion
• house has dubious, murderous history
• things go bump in the night
• possession 

And probably some others I'm not remembering right now. Although all these tropes are in the story they don't distract or take away any of the mounting tension by knowing these things beforehand. Instead, they're so well written and unique that they enhance the story. Jackson's book is unique from other haunted house stories because 1) it's the well from which author's draw for haunted house stories and 2) it takes the tropes and turns them on their heads. 

One of the reasons "The Haunting of Hill House" stands out is because for an author with a reputation of writing horrific stories this has a lot of humor. The four main characters have quite a lot of fun at the expense of the caretaker, Mrs. Dudley. At points I laughed out loud. Or as it's said in this day, I LOL'd. 

Getting the audience laughing is something very important in horror fiction. If you can get the reader comfortable enough to laugh you've got them emotionally involved.  It opens the reader up and allows them to suspend their disbelief easier when supernatural things start to happen. Once they are emotionally involved the author can do anything they want.

This story isn't like Stephen King where the grotesque and gore splatter across the page. Granted King does more than just that, but there is no denying there is blood in his stories. "The Haunting of Hill House" is a different kind of horror. It's a slow, slow burn. There's lots of character development and humor with little hints at horror. The protagonist, Eleanor's, main concern isn't for her life, but of not showing fear in front of her new friends. 

Keeping composure and a clear head are Eleanor's main concerns.This may be because she was asked to Hill house for the scientific study of the paranormal. But I believe the real reason, or the reason that has more pull is that Eleanor made such strong connections with the three other people in the house that she wants to show them she's normal.  You see, the story isn't about scary things happening to people in a haunted house. Even though that's exactly what happens in this book. The story is about friendship and companionship. It's about people. 

Much of the story focuses on Eleanor becoming friends with Theodora, Luke, and Dr. Montague. As the story progresses we see her desire to cling to the only friends she's ever had in her adult life drive her away from them. Sounds a lot like my mom. Who doesn't like a three-legged dog? She has no heart or soul. 

Unlike my mom, Shirley Jackson can be a genius. Specifically with dialogue and character development. Each of the four characters are distinctly different. They riff off of each other and interrupt each other as if they were real people. It all comes together to make a very believable friendship. A friendship that at times I felt privileged to have peek into.  

Something that I disliked about the writing was the quantity of adverbs. The adverbs are extra fluff that tells the reader what they already know from the context of the story. Example: "...it would be a pity, she thought grimly, for anyone to get a first look at the house with anything so comforting as a human automobile parked in front of it-" It's just a pet peeve of mine, but this entire thought is grim. There is no need for the adverb "grimly." It slows the reading down and is kind of useless weight in an otherwise splendid sentence. 

While there are a lot of these adverbs it didn't outweigh the good in the story. Good things like descriptions, character development, and dialogue were so prominent that it didn't bug me too much. But what does bug me is my mom trying to get me to clean a stain that doesn't even really show because poop is brown and her carpet is the exact same shade of dog poop. 

Shirley Jackson was a smart writer. She didn't think the reader was dumb. At times she makes the reader work for an image or have to piece together hints to find something. Something like a callback or foreshadowing that makes you shiver or laugh when you figure it out. She is a master of the craft of writing and you'll never read a haunted house story quite like this one. 

Now I'm going to end this because I've got to wipe crap off a carpet. Should have never brought that dog inside, but come on it had three legs and big sad eyes. Although for such a small dog it dropped quite the load. Dare I say I was a little proud of my dog of two hours? Did I find joy for a fleeting second at the look of horror and disgust on my mother's face as the three-legged pug squatted over her new carpet? Yes and Yes. If there's been a book report I've done that's worth anything it's this one. It's worth a pile of dog poo.

I review Neil Gaiman's "The Ocean at the end of the Lane" instead of paying rent.

Things I'd rather do than write another book report: die.

So mom says if I want to continue to live in the basement for free then I have to be productive.  Productivity is another book report in her mind. I read a book and now I'm going to report on it so I don't have to start paying rent to live in my mother's basement. 

At least this book was enjoyable unlike the R.L. Stine book. The story I read was "The Ocean at the end of the Lane" by Neil Gaiman.  The story, like many of Gaiman's books, has a fairy tale atmosphere around it. It's like when you open any Gaiman book a large soft blanket, fresh-out-of-the-dryer-warm wraps around you. So if you like that feeling Gaiman is your author. 

I've read many of Neil Gaiman's books. I have an indescribable respect for him. "American Gods" and "Stardust" are books I've started and finished within days. He has a way with world building and characterization that makes you forget where you are. Even when your mom is yelling at you from the top of the basement steps to clean the bathroom his world can make you ignore her for hours and hours. When an author can do that you know they're good at what they do. 

Now that I've said that I can say this. His short novel "The Ocean at the end of the Lane" is not his strongest work. I think the main reason this story struggles, for me, is because there isn't enough time for Gaiman to share. It reads rushed. Rushed like how my mom always rushes me to go outside and "get some sun." What the hell, mom? I don't need sun. I'm pale as a blank Word document and I like it that way. Love me for who I am. 

One reason it reads rushed is there isn't much explaining or delving into characters background. Now I'm all for efficiency and bare bones story telling, but the magical nature of the characters in question begs for a little more explanation.  

Another reason it seems rushed is that there are massive events that are just brushed over. Massive events such as the main character's father cheating on his mother with a shape shifting monster that looks like a hot lady. Now I'm all for stories like that, but we don't get any payoff from something like that. We don't get a father being caught or feeling remorse. There is nothing that comes back to say that a man cheating on his wife is dealt with like this or that. It just seemed to me that if you show something like that in your story it should come back to harm the family. 

Neil Gaiman is a curious author to me. At times his writing is crisp, to the point, and enjoyable. But there are times where he lapses into cliche and just plain bad writing. This sentence on page 157 made me groan aloud. "I saw bursts of light that were not there." What? I'm all for making the reader work, but this is just trying to roll a seven with a six sided dice.  This kind of obscurity is rampant throughout the novel.  The narrator sees things then doesn't see them. It's hard to understand what is real. Which might be what Gaiman was going for, but without being able to see anything there is no tension. Here's an example: "It was two people talking in unison. Or a hundred people. I could not tell" (pg. 139).   What is the reader supposed to do with this? Are there a hundred people? Sure we could get that the narrator is scared and confused, but by what? There isn't enough concrete images for me to feel tension at this point. When my mother wants me to be scared she throws all my stuff out on the street corner. I see my lamp and books and dresser sitting on the street corner and I fear that she's kicked me out. But most of the time it's just a scare tactic to keep me productive. 

This story is really a fairy tale for adults. There is magic and sex. And there is deus ex machina. Dues ex machina all over the place. So once you accept it the story is much less frustrating to read. But the fact that this is a story for adults makes me believe that the deus ex machina is insulting our intelligence. Oh, you need someplace for your protagonist to be safe? Here is a fairy ring that's TOTALLY been in your yard the whole time. What do you know? None of the monsters can break the ring! At times it reads like Gaiman wrote himself into a corner and then just stood up and yelled MAGIC at the computer screen and typed some lame deus ex machina into the story.  Maybe I should try that with mom. The next time she tells me to do something I'm going to stand up and yell MAGIC and wait for something to happen. And when it doesn't happen I'll know that I'm never going to Hogwarts and that deus ex machina is the absolute worst thing you can put into a story. 

One last thing. Since Neil Gaiman is British I don't know if this is a British thing or what, but the narration reads as if a robot wrote it. Take this example on page 47: "I do not know why I did not ask an adult about it. I do not remember asking adults about anything, except as a last resort." If you read it out loud you sound like a robot. People don't speak like that and narrators shouldn't either. I assume the narrator isn't robot. This mechanical speak isn't natural and it makes the read tough at times. There's no life to it. People speak with contractions and I think narrators should as well.  

I love the ideas in this novel. I just think it was rushed and could have used another edit or two.  If you want Neil Gaiman at his best read "American Gods" or "Stardust." They have fantastical elements like this, but are much longer books so they have more room to breathe and grow, which in turn makes them more believable.  Unlike my mom who doesn't allow me room to breath and grow by smothering me in book reports and chores to keep me productive.   Well she can kiss my butt because I'm cutting this report short because deus ex machina arrived in the form of a timer letting me know my pizza rolls are done. 

I Review R.L. Stine's Adult Horror Novel Titled "Not as Good as Goosebumps"

My mother is a hag.

I wish I could write a review that long like Faulkner wrote a chapter that long because it says all I want  to say about my mother.

If I seem angrier than usual in this post it's because that hag made me read a book by R.L. Stine recently. Of course when she handed me the book I wasn't angry. I was actually relieved that she wanted me to read something other than what her book club does.  Then I read it and now I hate her.

Nostalgia, you jerk. Coating my memories in warm and fuzzy. Lulling me into a world I remembered as exciting, new, and somewhat scary. Nostalgia urged me to read this new R.L. Stine book and I did. And it was awful.

Before we get too far I'd like to say that I owe R.L. Stine a debt. He's a big reason why I started reading. And because I read I went to college. And at college I got a degree in English. And now I live in my mother's basement.

Oh.

Thanks, Mr. Stine?

Anyway, Goosebumps, R.L. Stine's children's horror book series, was an enormous reason why I not only started reading but ENJOYED reading as a child. These books caught me and held me and yes, some of them scared me. But these were children's books. As a child reader you don't know the difference between a good one and a bad one. You can love the subject matter of the story though. The ooze monsters, creepy dolls, and sentient masks were all subject matter I was interested in as a child. No, not because I was born out of an ooze monster of a woman. I was just a kid who liked creepy things.

Goosebumps were so popular they made movies and board games out of them. They were decent children's books. And what an amazing idea choose your own adventure was. Kids gobbled that up. At least I did.

Ermahgerd. Cherse ur urn advurntur.

But now, probably 13 years after I read my last Goosebumps book, my mom hands me an R. L. Stine horror book for ADULTS called "Red Rain." Of course I read it and after a few chapters I'm thinking this could use a little more editing. But the more I read the worse it got. 

Let's start at the beginning. Chapter 1 is a blog post written by Lea Sutter who may or may not be our protagonist. This chapter and the third chapter are the only chapters in the form of a blog post in the whole novel. Why start your story with blog posts if you just leave that format behind? I thought it was a neat gimmick that might work. But it's just used twice and dropped. It's bizarre. It's like going on a first date and telling your date that you moved back home. Then in the next few dates you say "yeah I moved back home, but I live in my mom's basement." It's deceitful. Well, those were my date's words. But I could see her point. So now I start all my dates with "I moved back home" and I NEVER change the story from there. Being deceitful in life can work out sometimes, but it becomes unforgivable when you do it to your audience as an author. In my humblest of opinions. 

Speaking of never changing, I don't believe R.L. Stine changed anything about his writing when he made the jump to adult fiction. Well, except add curse words, violence, and sex. But that's subject matter not the writing itself. Stine uses the word "frightening" six times in the first chapter. So just in case you forgot this is a HORROR NOVEL. YOU NEED TO FEEL FRIGHTENED. This heavy handed approach is something that would work for a children's book because kids are dumb. They need heavy handed writing to even have a chance at understanding. Adult readers don't need to be told things are frightening. Adult readers aren't dumb. Well, my mom does read so maybe some are. But most adult readers would be insulted by the idea that they need to be told six times that this story is going to be scary. Don't tell them, Stine. Just do it. 

Another example of how R.L. Stine hasn't graduated into Adult writing: "She stumbled over something soft. A corpse! No. Clothing. A tangled pile of soaked shirts and shorts..." 

Were you scared? Did the exclamation point help?

BOO!

This attempt at shocking the reader is something that might work in a Goosebumps book.  All we have is the word "corpse!" What is the reader supposed to do with this? Imagine a dead body? A woman's body or a man's? A child? A dog? Oh wait never mind it's just clothes.  R.L. Stine is nudging the reader in the ribs and saying "Gotcha!" When it most obviously isn't a "gotcha" moment. It's a moment of unclear exposition and untrustworthy narration. 

Pet-peeve Alert: R.L. Stine uses two words where one will do twice as much work. He does this quite a few times in this story. Example: "people talked quietly, but the..." What is "talking quietly?" Whispering. Murmering. Mumbling. Replacing two words with one smooths the sentence for easier consumption. It's easier to see people whispering than to first see them talking, and then read the next word and see them quietly talking. It's a needless step to get a sub-par result. 

Now we come to the problem of ellipses. The three little dots. I could fill twenty pages with all of the ellipses Stine uses. Page 69 has eight on it alone. Ellipses are for pauses or hesitation. They're usually used in dialogue, but Stine uses them in descriptions. Example: "At the puncture...the puncture...the blood-smeared puncture in her eye." I assume he's using the ellipses to elongate the image of the punctured eye. Problem is we don't have an image of a punctured eye. We just have "the puncture in her eye." No clue as to what it looks like. No specific details. The ellipses cloud up the picture rather than sharpen it. 

Another example (from the same page): She knew that when the wall fell in, the nail had been driven into Macaw's eye...eight inches...driven through her eye and into her brain." 

1) Repeating a word doesn't make it any clearer what you're trying to show. 

2) The nail had been driven into Macaw's eye and into her brain. Reads much smoother. 

3)Did she measure the nail to make sure it was exactly eight inches? It must be important because it's isolated by ellipses. 

4) An eight inch nail is ridiculous. When is the last time you saw an eight inch nail? Oh? Was it when you were nailing my mom?  Is the bad mom joke funny or not?  Either way it's your fault R.L. Stine. Yes, I'm being unreasonable. 

I'm hesitant to jump into the plot of the novel because it's a never ending hole of "what the f***" and coincidence. It's filled with evil undead twins and boring characters. Part of the problem is that after page 80 Lea Sutter doesn't have a chapter written in her point of view anymore until one of the last chapters. She's gone. Literally. She leaves her husband and children with her newly adopted twins to go to a conference somewhere.  So this leaves the reader with her husband Mark. Who is a very passive character. He does nothing. Things just happen to him. It's event after event of Mark getting outsmarted by these twins that Lea adopted for some reason. And then at the end of the novel he turns into an action hero. He jumps out of closed windows, hides for days from the police in the forest, breaks into a school, smacks the evil twins heads together until they go unconscious, and rescues a police officer. All that action happens within the last twenty pages. This novel is almost 400 pages long. 

The evil twins that Lea adopts have the desire to "rule the school." They want to posses all the little kids in the small town "Children of the Corn" style. They use their heat vision to kill anyone who gets in their way. Yes. They have heat vision that melts peoples throats.  These two are the only characters in the story that want something. Therefore they earn the Most Human award. Even though they murdered a bunch of people and blew up cars with their heat ray vision, and even though they possessed a bunch of kids, they wanted something and they wanted it bad. That's what humans do. That's what makes a story interesting. They were the only characters in the story that did something to reach a goal and I can relate to that. I wanted lasagna so I did a book review. Bam. I want my hag mother to die so I slip a few drops of Visine into her water everyday. Goals. 

If you don't remember it the title of this book is called Red Rain. And I know you're wondering so yes, it did rain blood. It rained blood for about three pages in the prologue and briefly when the story line caught back up to the prologue. Then it isn't mentioned again. I don't even know if the blood rain was real or not. It's very vague. Nobody else confirms it and Lea, the one who's POV we're in when we see it never mentions blood rain to anyone. So I guess what I'm saying is that the title doesn't make sense. A more accurate title should be The Demon Twins. Helltwins. Hellboys? Hellions? Not as Good as Goosebumps? 

You know what? Goosebumps sounds like a great way to get this terrible book out of my mind. I'm going to go choose my own adventure. An adventure without hags that make people read and write reviews of crappy books. 

I Review "The Inverted Forest" by John Dalton in exchange for Lasagna

Hello, 

I've been blackmailed. I've been tricked by my own mother. She said she'd make lasagna if I did another review. So she made the lasagna. I'm a sucker for some lasagna and I didn't mind doing the last review too much. O.k., I hated it, but I would do this once a week for a nice plate of lasagna.  

I sat down to write my review on a book I've finished and mom said no you're going to review this. She handed me "The Inverted Forest" by John Dalton.  It's a book from her stupid book club she has in the dining room once a month. At first I said h*** no, hag. mom said if you want lasagna ever again you will.  So I agreed. I mean the lasagna was still digesting in my stomach when we had this discussion. I didn't want it to be the last time I ever had mom's lasagna. 

The only reason I started this book was to eat that lasagna again and it was the only thing keeping me reading after the first three chapters. This book is awful. John Dalton must have written this in a week. The only thing good about reading this book is now I know I can have lasagna after I finish this report.

To the report. Damn you, mom. 

Think of the most boring thing you can say to someone after you meet them. Try this: "Hello. Nice to meet you. I'm Doug...how bout that weather?" Doesn't leave a good first impression does it? Because talking about the weather is what you say when you have nothing else to say. John Dalton's novel "The Inverted Forest" starts off with this awkward I-don't-know-what-to-say introduction. He's asking you to buy his book and invest yourself into his writing and he starts off with a weather report. The actual line is "A night breeze lifted the dark skirts of the forest." OH MY GOD THE FIRST LINE HAS ONE OF THE WORDS FROM THE TITLE IN IT! GENIUS! GIVE THIS MAN A PULITZER! Or don't buy this book. Sure, the first line grounds the reader in a setting, but let us not forget that it's the FIRST LINE OF A NOVEL. It's supposed to win the reader, it's supposed to be the conversation starter not the bland "I have nothing better to say to you than comment on the weather at this particular point in time" introduction. 

Think of your favorite story. Chances are it's your favorite because it gripped you within the first few lines and never let go. Go back to it and see if it starts with a weather report. Here are a few of mine. From "The Road" by Cormac McCarthy "When he woke in the woods in the dark and the cold of the night he'd reach out to touch the child sleeping beside him." From "Uglies" by Scott Westerfield "The early summer sky was the color of cat vomit." Each of these engage the reader and have a mystery or uniqueness to them that hooks the reader and keeps them moving to the next line. 

Now that I have that out of the way I can give a brief summary about the story. The story takes place at a summer camp where the counselors are hired under the impression that they will be taking care of children. Instead, for the first part of the summer they have to take care of developmentally disabled adults, all from state asylums. The main characters are Wyatt Huddy, a genetically deformed twenty-year-old, Harriet, the nurse that works at the camp who has a young son living there with her, and Schuller Kindermann, the old man who owns and runs the camp. Shenanigans follow throughout the summer and one of the counselors, Christopher Waterhouse, ends up trying to molest one of the disabled adult women. Wyatt ends up finding them and killing Christopher Waterhouse. Harriet visits Wyatt throughout his time in an asylum. Shuller Kindermann dies. Wyatt does some IQ test to reveal himself as a man of normal intelligence because him looking funny always made him second guess his intelligence. Then Harriet gives Wyatt a hand job. Then it ends.  I think. It's hard to remember what exactly happened because I tried to get it out of my body faster than the lasagna. I'd rather hold onto that lasagna longer than this crap.  

So there's the bones of the story. Moving on. Mom yelled at me, but I scratched off the word "Inverted" in the title on the cover and wrote in "Adverb." This is an apt title for this book. Adverbs take the writer out of the writing. Adverbs take all the creative ways to say something and replace it with a stock word. 

Example: "Wyatt could only nod vaguely." Ask three people to nod vaguely and you'll get three different nods. How does one nod vaguely? Tilt the head? Slow movements? Is it one or two or three nods to nod vaguely? An action in the place of this adverb would show the reader a clearer picture of the nod and how it was vague. Or better yet just take that adverb out. One more example: "His hair was vibrantly white." The adverb vibrantly could mean many things. It's not a specific image. This adverb could be replaced with a simile or metaphor that would bring an image to the readers mind rather than our stock "vibrantly white" hair image that every person on the planet has a different idea of. Try this: "His hair was white like a page of a printer paper." Not the best simile but you get the idea.

 

Adverbs are a plague to good writing. If you find one usually you'll find more and more until it kills any uniqueness in the story. I counted the adverbs in the story up to page fifty-eight. I got 134. That's about 2.5 per page. That's 134 chances at making the story unique and instead giving us a bland, weak, lazy, stock word that gives the reader nothing to work with. 

I wanted to stop here but mom said I needed to write more or no lasagna. I asked if I could do extra chores around the house instead. She said no and that I need to be more positive toward the book. I said the book doesn't deserve it. She said lasagna. I'm writing more. 

The story not only starts with a terrible opening line, but in the mind of a pretty terrible person. The reader is put into the mind on the first page of Schuller Kindermann, the old guy who owns the summer camp in the woods. He is bitter, racist, and asexual. (like my mom) After reading this first chapter I groaned at the idea of reading 200 plus pages in this guy's head. Thankfully each chapter is a different point of view character. I didn't groan because he's bitter, racist, and asexual. (did I mention my mom is like that?) Literature is full of characters even more racist, bitter, and asexual than Schuller. It's because I felt no sympathy for him. You can dislike a character and still have sympathy for them. Take Patrick Bateman from "American Psycho" by Bret Easton Ellis. "American Psycho" is 200 plus pages in the mind of a psycho, rapist, murderer, and Genesis fan. Bateman is despicable, but Ellis writes him in such a way that I sympathize with him. Schuller has no insights, no personality. He has no history really. He's a robot. Schuller does have a twin brother that lives in a nursing home because he had a stroke. You could give me all the lasagna in the world and I couldn't remember the twin's name because it's only mentioned like three times and never really serves any purpose. Except for the fact that it's an obvious ploy by the author to get you to sympathize with Schuller. 

Let's talk about Nurse Harriet. She is always written with a bright neon sign above her saying "I AM A BLACK WOMAN." Example: Now this is written in Harriet's POV so this is what John Dalton wants his character to think: "She wasn't a dependable black person." Wyatt doesn't think "I'm not a smart white person." Old man Schuller doesn't think "I'm the white owner of this camp." Only Harriet thinks this because John Dalton has no idea what he's doing. He writes a black person how he thinks a black person thinks. Instead of writing, you know, a person that happens to be black. The focus is on the black and not Harriet. For some reason, in Harriet's back story, the father of her child leaves her for AND I QUOTE, "She was black- a black woman, a black wife." Because Harriet is black John seems to think it's a big deal that people are black when he's writing as Harriet. 

Chapter 2 of this story sums up the entire novel. Chapter 2 is in third person omniscient point of view. We jump around from the different counselors and get a glimpse into the reasons why they all decided to work at the summer camp. All of these people are montaged (I know it's not a word, mom) together into a collage of empty faces because 

1. We don't get enough information to picture anyone. 

2. There are so many people introduced in such a short span of time (the chapter is four pages long and introduces 13 characters) we can't remember who is who. 

3. John Dalton tells he doesn't show. Example: "...he felt a long, steady surge of panic. It was agonizing, really."  Telling us what this person feels doesn't get it across to the reader as well as showing him fidgeting or forgetting things or DOING SOMETHING that can show us he panics. This chapter is full of lines like "...his thoughts urgent and full of raw feeling." What the heck does that even mean? Felling what? Excitement? Dread? Horny? What is the difference between feeling and "raw" feeling? NO, MOM, I DON'T CARE WHAT YOUR BOOK CLUB THINKS RAW FEELING IS BECAUSE IT'S A QUESTION I SHOULDN'T EVEN BE ASKING.  The main reason why I think Chapter 2 sums up this story is because you could skip it and not miss anything.  In other words, skip this whole novel and you wouldn't miss anything. 

I can't do this anymore. I'm not even going to write about the awkward hand job scene between Nurse Harriet and Wyatt. I'm not going to write about how egregious it is to always refer to characters by both their first and last name. Nobody does that. We use first names or last names. Never both, and if you do you better have a good reason. I'm not going to write about the how much of a bummer the ending is that Wyatt needs an IQ TEST to tell him that he's normal. I'm not going to write about the weird chapter in a secondary character's POV twelve years after the camp is over.  Or the countless and absurd amount of cliches used in the story. What I will do is fill the rest of this review with fluff until mom thinks I wrote enough. I need that lasagna. So, for filler I will talk about lasagna. 

The lasagna will fill my stomach. I will love the lasagna. It is good. I like the lasagna. Lasagna is what I live for now that my Guinea Pig passed away. Lasagna is best with green beans. Mix the two together and it is amazing. You can even reheat lasagna and it's still great. Garfield knows what I'm talking about. Maybe I should get a cat? No. That's too much work. What I could get is a plate of lasagna. That sounds pretty great right about  now. I'll start another paragraph. 

Here we go. Lasagna. Lasagna. Lasa-gna. If I had a child I would name it Doug Jr. If I had a second child I'd name that one Lasagna. If you spell lasagna backwards you get delicious. Try it. It's crazy. If you spell delicious backwards you get souiciled which, translated into Italian (the native country of lasagna) means lasagna. Weird logic I know, but if you do it on Google Translate it works. 

I'm never letting mom talk me into this again. She's been a hag and a half today over this crappy book club novel. 

Why Game of Thrones is the only 1000 page book you'll ever re-re-read (spoilers)

Hello,

My name is Doug and I'm doing this book report for my mom. Yes, I'm thirty and yes I live with my mother. She's making me do this because she says I "don't use my noggin enough." Well, mom, here you go you old hag. Don't worry. She knows I call her that.

To the report! (Also, mom, I didn't vacuum the dining room because I WAS TOO BUSY DOING THIS BOOK REPORT. So don't make me feed the dogs. Please.)

To the report!

Game of Thrones, the first book in George R.R. Martin's series A Song of Ice and Fire is the only thousand page tome you'll ever read more than twice. Of course this comes with the assumption that you are a literate human being and like it when words put in a certain order make you feel funny inside. I assume this for the sake of this report/review thing my mom is making me write.

So I'll start this book report by telling you to watch the HBO television show first. Whaaaat?! Yes, watch the first season of Game of Thrones on HBO before you delve into this book. I know it goes against the cultural acceptance among readers of literature (said in snobby British accent) but this is my suggestion. It's my suggestion because George R.R. Martin drops a lot of names and nicknames and titles and not so nice nicknames for just about every character in the story. Except Hodor. Hodor is Hodor. Anyway, I've recommended this book to many people and the next time I saw them they hadn't read past the first few chapters. When I asked why they were having trouble getting into the book the main complaint was they had no idea who was who. The television show allows you to put a face to a character and they cut out a lot of name drops so it's easier to grasp. It's much more manageable when you go back to read it after the show because you already have names in your memory.  

Now I know it's not the greatest way to convince people to read the books. "I'll just watch the show," you'd say. I'd say it's a great show go ahead. BUT you'd miss out on George's wonderful writing, and of course, the book is better as it always is in these cases.

I better get into some of the nitty gritty so mom doesn't make me do this over again. I can hear her now. "You just talked about the t.v. show. This isn't using your head. Try again or mow the lawn." I don't want to mow the lawn or anything so here we go:

George knows how to write a chapter. The thing that makes great novelists is their ability to write compelling chapters. Chapters with a beginning, middle, and cliffhanger.   Take for instance one of Catelyn's early chapters from her point of view. Her chapter here starts with "We'll make King's Landing within the hour." This quote immediately throws the readers into the action. The dialogue forces the reader to think and scramble to catch up with the scene.  Then we're caught up with her journey to find out who tried to murder her son.   There is tension in the chapter as Catelyn gets enshrouded in a deeper mystery as she meets the dubious Littlefinger and secretive Lord Varys in King's Landing. Then there is the final cliffhanger with the reveal of who owns the dagger used in the attempted assassination of her son Bran Stark. The last words of this chapter "Tyrion Lannister." Most of the chapters end with a "OH SNAP" moment and that's good writing.

The chapters are all little short stories and George switches point of view for each chapter. This choice to switch characters is a technique that is needed in this type of epic and global story. Ending chapters with cliffhangers makes the reader groan knowing that they will have to read and reinvest in  a whole new character and place, but it makes the reader read. It is a tool that ushers the reader to keep going and you'll be rewarded with more chapters or the continuation of the cliffhanger. It's like a t.v. show except you don't have to wait a week for a new episode. All you have to do is keep reading.

I will pause here to talk specifically to you, mom. I know, I know, I know you love your karaoke machine, but for god's sake why are you using it now? It's ten in the morning. If this report isn't up to your standards then it's your fault. Your version of Kenny Loggins' "Danger Zone" makes me want to kill myself. Maybe I'll turn this book report into a suicide note saying "You sound like a pig squealing for slop. With love from your son, Doug."

Finally. It's over. O.k. back to Game of Thrones. While you're reading George's great writing he is training you. It's true. Great authors teach you how to read their writing.  Here's what I mean: Every author has a different style and the ones that engage a reader are the ones that, from the first lines, are teaching you how to read it. Take Tolkien for instance if we're on the fantasy genre. The prose style is significantly more proper and regal than George's prose. Not to say one's better, but each style is different and from the start you are trained to read Tolkien's story in Tolkien's style. Same for George. Each style is different, yet they both engage the reader. It's their uniqueness. They are masters of the craft of writing and they can grip you within the first lines and train you to read them at the same time.

Since I'm talking about Tolkien I might as well mention he basically created the fantasy genre or pushed it into popular culture.  So many bookshelves are lined with Tolkien imitators and almost plagiarists that the genre has become a joke. Tell your lit professor you want to write a paper on a fantasy novel. He or she will laugh and say kill yourself. Ask them why there isn't any fantasy on the syllabus. They'll say because it isn't literature. It's no better than Romance novels. (I don't care if you like them mom. They're all formulaic garbage that anyone can write. I just haven't written one because YOU MAKE ME DO ALL THESE DUMB BOOK REPORTS.) Fantasy, like romance, crime, erotica, and even teen fiction are all genres that are subject to the "formula" tag.  What it means is that it's a cliched genre. Fantasy is evil dark lord vs. young good-to-a-fault hero. It's cliche because it's good. People love that stuff. Who doesn't like it?  But that's been done and done and done. Seriously, go to a book store find the fantasy shelf and you'll find exactly what I've talked about. Black and white characters.

Here's what George R.R. Martin does that's different. George does what literature does, or attempts to do. He makes grey characters. Grey characters are real people not the fantastical evil-just-because dark lord. Everyone is a human and has faults. Let's use Cersei as an example. Cersei Lannister is one of the most despicable people in the story. She's abused by her husband. Her one motivation in life is her children. This is a real human. There is no dark lord. She serves herself and her children. She protects her children and herself by having a hand in the death of her husband King Baratheon. She is fueled by reasonable and realistic human desires. Yeah, she is a bitch about how she goes about it, but you can't say you wouldn't want to protect your children.  Sometimes I wish my mom cared about me that much.

This different shade of character instead of the same old black and white, good and evil, characters breaks the genre cliche. This and the lack of magic. Let me show you what a lot of fantasy is like: Magic, Magic, Magic, Magic, Magic, Magic, Magic, Character development through magic, Exposition through magic, and magic.

Now this isn't always the case and neither is it always bad to have a lot of magic in your story, but there can be too much of a good thing. Often times the fantasy genre indulges in the "Oh it's magical" trope. Nobody has any responsibility. It's magic it can fix anything. Too much magic diffuses the tension in a story. Writers use it as a crutch. George uses a crutch to beat back magic when it enters his story. His use of magic is subtle.

Example. Dragons, magical creatures, are a distant memory in the setting of Game of Thrones. They are like dinosaurs. Only their bones remain and those are kept in the dark dungeons so as to not remind King Baratheon of them. It's a fresh take on the usage of dragons in fantasy. Usually dragons are you know, hoarding gold like my mom hoards all her money. I mean all I need is a few hundred dollars and then I can get my own computer so we don't have to share this crappy laptop. Just saying. And I know what you're going to say so let me say this: I would get a job if I DIDN'T HAVE TO DO ALL THESE BOOK REPORTS!

There are hints of magic throughout the whole story. Bran's abilities with his dreams that can be explained away as "just dreams" or Varys' ability to know almost anything. But these are all subtle. You have Varys always saying he has informants everywhere, but there is still the little hint that he may know stuff because he has magical abilities. It's just never said out right that he's magic.

Then you have Daenerys. Dany for short. What happens to Dany doesn't come easily. Her one magic moment comes with great cost. And it takes place at the very end of the story. The whole story builds up to it. It's a subtle build up to a very costly magical experience. It's also a great cliffhanger ending.

Finally, (oh I know, mom) the last and possibly the most important reason I'd like to mention about why I think you'll re-re-read this thousand page book is the mystery.  All great fiction is some sort of mystery fiction. Mystery's are what keeps the reader reading.  The author has set up a burning question that the reader needs to know. Google Game of Thrones theories and you'll have pages and pages of links to pages and pages of novel length crackpot theories.  My personal theory is my mom hates me and that's why she makes me do these book reports nobody cares about.

Part of the reason these theories are so prolific is the fact that the series is still unfinished. But the fact that George has so many questions that need answering is a testament to his storytelling.  Questions like: What caused the Doom of Valyria? What happened to the Children of the Forest? Who are the Others and what do they want? Why is Hodor named Hodor and why is that the only word he can say?

The fun part about all these questions is that at times we get contradicting or incomplete answers to them from different sources in the story.  We have all these different point of view chapters and opinions on what really happened in certain points of the story that it comes down to the reader. The reader is left to make the assumption. It's just like history. I mean who shot JFK? Depends on who you ask, right? Mom says JFK is still alive. This is the true genius of George. He builds worlds with mystery's that are sustained and built upon within the world. It creates a sense of history that layers the world of Westeros even deeper in realism than the billions of characters he's put in it or the delicate descriptions of the terrain or food ever could. He loves to mention what people are eating by the way.

So that's all I have to say on Game of Thrones. I hope mom doesn't make me do another one of these, but I might have to if she threatens to make me do laundry for a week if I "don't use my noggin." Who says that anyway?  Noggin? Old hags do, that's who.