Spooky Urban Legend Gets Literary Makeover? Or vice versa?

You may have heard an urban legend or ghost story that goes something like this:

A young man is out walking late at night. The next day he's starting a new job in a new town and he's too restless to go to bed. Turning down a deserted street he is startled to feel a hand on his arm. He turns and sees a young woman in a white dress.

She's scared. Someone -- some man -- has mistreated her, she says. She can't bring herself to say what he has done to her. She begs that the young man won't ask her questions, only that he will help her get to a part of town where she might get a cab.

He's a good natured fellow and he does help her. They talk a little and he discovers that she has a history in the very same town where he'll go the next day for his new job. She even mentions the name of his employer. But she refuses to divulge her story. They find a cab and the man reluctantly lets her go without ever discovering her secret. The cab is barely out of sight when another vehicle arrives. A man has urgent questions..."Have you seen a young woman? Dressed all in white? She's just escaped from the asylum..."

That last line -- or some variant on it -- would be the end of the urban legend. But it is just the beginning of The Woman in White by Wilkie Collins.

Now, I'll be honest with you The Woman in White is a big book. And it's not going filled with two-fisted action. It's a Victorian novel, after all.

But if you don't quite have the gumption to pick up such a heavy thing, why not download the whole thing as a FREE audio book from Librivox.org.

The story is, rather famously, told by different narrators. Wikipedia calls it "a complex web in which readers are unsure which narrator can, and cannot, be trusted."
The Librivox.org folks made a wise choice in having different readers perform the parts of the different narrators.

Dark Banquet by Bill Schutt

One of the points Bill Schutt makes in his book Dark Banquet: Blood and the Curious Lives of Blood-Feeding Creatures is that there is much we don't know about sanguivores, or creatures that feed on blood. They are small and rare, shrouded in misconceptions, but also remarkable in the beauty of their evolutions. Schutt, a bat biologist, proves to be an ideal guide in demystifying lives of sanguivores and explaining their impact on our lives.

Beginning with vampire bats, Schutt explores the world of sanguivores, which also includes leeches, ticks, chiggers, bed bugs, and candiru. Among the many things I learned from reading Dark Banquet are that there are three species of vampire bats, the leech Hirudo medicinalis actually received FDA approval as a medical device (not to mention probably much more than I ever wanted to know about the historical uses of leeches), and there is a species of candiru known as Vendellia wieneri. More seriously, these sanguivores evolved for a reason. In describing how each feeds, reproduces, and interacts with their ecosystem, Schutt also explains why they are so important. Many people think the various sanguivores are scary and/or dangerous, but Schutt elucidates why this should not be the case.

Schutt does assume some degree of scientific literacy among readers. Not as much as I thought, say, Carl Zimmer's Microcosm requires, but definitely more than something like Bill Bryson's A Short History of Nearly Everything. (Which is not a knock on Bryson, since I enjoyed his book.) While passionate about his subject, Schutt does not take himself too seriously, writing with ease and humor. (Schutt also uses parenthetical asides even more often than I do, she adds parenthetically.) The illustrations by Patricia Wynne illuminate Schutt's text as well as often providing additional humor.

Dark Banquet has a mostly a North American and European focus, but then, the narrative begins with a discussion of vampire bats, which are only found in Mexico, Central America, South America, and two Caribbean islands. Still, I can't help but wish there was more information about medicine and beliefs about blood in other parts of the world, particularly in Part Two, which takes a closer look at blood itself.

Overall, though, this is a sometimes disgusting (okay, so this is a personal judgment coming from someone who admittedly doesn't like the sight of blood, but how else to describe some parts, like p. 163?), always fascinating glimpse at a few species who don't receive the appreciation Schutt demonstrates they deserve.

If any of this sounds interesting, in addition to reading Dark Banquet, I highly recommend visiting Schutt's website. There you'll find basic information about and color pictures of the creatures described in the book, as well as extras, including a section on blood recipes. Bon appétit.

Book source: public library.

Cross-posted at The YA YA YAs.

Mexican Whiteboy by Matt de la Pena

Who are you? What defines you? How do others see you and label you? Look in a mirror and who do you see? A boy? A woman? A mom? A son? An activist? An American? A soldier? A teacher? We have so many parts that make up who we are, and who we are is so much more than merely the sum of our parts. Take all of our ingredients, a cup of this, a pinch of that, a splash of the other, mix it up and out comes a unique individual, a distinctive self, a being identical to no one; a body and mind of cells and genes and DNA and synapses, all tossed into a sociocultural context that makes us who we are. But who I am is not solely defined by me; who I am is also how others see me. And how others see me may not be the way I see myself; or maybe it complicates how I see me, so I can’t figure out who I am or who I should be. It turns out being me can be a lot tougher than it seems.

That’s a problem in Danny’s life in Matt de la Pena’s beautiful novel, Mexican Whiteboy. Danny’s dad is Mexican and his mom is white, so what does that make Danny? That depends, in part, on where Danny is. When he’s home in a suburb, attending a private school, he’s more a white kid. When he spends the summer – as he does in this book – visiting his father’s Mexican family in San Diego, he’s a “half-Mexican brown” kid who doesn’t speak a word of Spanish. Hanging out with his cousins, they can’t figure how a kid with a Mexican father dresses like one of the Brady Bunch. Danny can’t make sense of it either, and unfortunately he can’t ask his dad. His parents have split and his father’s in Mexico. Danny's desperate for some cash to find his dad.

There is more to Danny. Baseball. More specifically pitching. He has a golden arm, with the speed of a locomotive but the control of broken shopping cart. He can throw a ninety-mile-an-hour fastball that struggles to find the plate. He can’t figure out the problem; he’s desperate to play ball, to get on his high school team. But first he needs to find out who he is.

Sometimes we can find help in the most unlikely place. Early in the story Danny’s playing ball. His cousins have introduced him to the other kids from the neighborhood and it does not take long for fireworks to fly. Another boy, Uno, whose parents have also split-up, punches him and draws blood. But that punch turns into a friendship and Danny and Uno spend the summer trying to raise some cash – so Danny can find his dad and Uno can move in with his dad – by betting kids on the ball field that they can’t hit a pitch from Danny. And popping up from time to time is Danny’s cousin Sofia, a wonderful, street smart, wise-talking, tough-as-nails kid, who cares for her cuz. She plays matchmaker by trying to hook Danny up with a new girl. But alas, she only speaks Spanish, so Danny even can’t talk to her – one of the few people he really would like to talk to.

There is a point in this story when Uno takes Danny down to the bottom of a train bridge. A train is coming and Uno tells Danny to wrap his arms around a pillar. “Grab a post,” Uno shouts over the oncoming train, “Hold tight, man. Trust me.” With the train roaring above them, the pillars vibrating like an earthquake, it is a glorious image. Two boys who met over blood and baseball, finding common bonds, struggling to figure out their lives together and who they are, wrapping their arms around those thick pillars to feel the pulse of life, to suck the energy of the train into their bodies. As the last car of the train passes by up above, Uno shouts, “Hell yeah, boy! That’s some power!” I’ll say. Grab Mexican Whiteboy. It’s a grand slam.

High Moon, by David Gallaher and Steve Ellis

It seems like everybody is trying to scrimp and save these days--but if you're a comics fan, it can be hard to give up that regular trip to the comics store. Take heart, though: you can read some pretty great full-length comics online for free!

There was some skepticism at first about whether DC Comic's online imprint Zuda would have anything worth reading, but with people voting on the titles that they like the best, a few really exceptional ones keep floating to the top. In fact, the highest vote-getter--High Moon, from writer David Gallaher and artist Steve Ellis--also just won this year's prestigious Harvey Award for Best Online Comics Work.




High Moon is a perfect read for the week before Halloween, a sort of werewolf Western. With a supernatural-horror aesthetic that's much closer to the Deadlands roleplaying game than the Will Smith-ian vision of the "Weird Wild West," High Moon livens up a lot of old Western tropes. The Pinkerton Detective Agency, damsels (at least seemingly) in distress, and Man With No Name-type heroes are balanced out with steampunk gadgetry, intriguing hoodoo, and a legion of slavering beasts, demons, and other associated villains.



The series has some dramatic reveals, both major and minor, and I don't want to spoil any of its secrets--but rest assured that you'll want to go back and re-read each installment for the story to fully sink in. There are three parts on the site now, which you can get through in about an hour using Zuda's enjoyable in-browser reader (with a full-screen mode and the ability to zoom in and out of the art). Or if you're feeling flush, you can also now buy the first part of High Moon in print! (Watch for a bound graphic novel version of all three parts in December.)



If Western horror isn't your thing (or you just loved High Moon and want more), make sure you also check out Zuda's Night Owls, I Rule the Night, and Bayou.

Hellboy

The two Hellboy movies directed by Guillermo del Toro introduced a new audience to the demon with a heart of gold. They were great popcorn flicks, and Ron Pearlman is one of my favorite character actors, but they barely scratched the surface of Hellboy's story. Since it's October and the season for all things dark and strange, I thought it'd be a good time to take a look at Mike Mignola's beautiful, grotesque, Eisner- and Harvey-award winning comic.

Mike Mignola has been telling Hellboy's story bit by bit--through irregular miniseries and one-shots--since 1994. (The Hellboy universe also includes an ever-expanding number of spin-off characters, including vigilante Lobster Johnson, who Jesse wrote about back in July.) Like in the movies, Hellboy is a demon brought to Earth during a Nazi experiment. He was adopted by an American professor and joined the Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense, protecting the world against various supernatural threats.

One of the things that set the Hellboy comics apart, not only from the movies but from other comics, is Mignola's flat, contrast-heavy artwork. Mignola was originally inspired by Japanese woodblock prints, and Alan Moore once called his style, "German Expressionism meets Jack Kirby." It seems like people either love it or hate it, and I'll admit the strange art made me avoid the Hellboy for years. Once I finally read it, though, I started to understand. Mignola's style reminds me of stained glass windows or Medieval icons. It wouldn't work for most superheroes, say Captain America or Spider-Man, but for the types of stories Mignola tells, about hoary evils, about demons and dragons and destiny, it fits perfectly.

Many of those stories reflect Mignola's deep love of folklore. Besides stories revolving around mythological creatures like homunculi, changlings, and Baba Yaga, he's also written stories directly modeled on the legends of Teig O'Kane and the Corpse, The Flying Huntsman, and "an Irish legend about St. Patrick cursing a group of pagans so that every seven years they would turn into wolves." (That story, "The Wolves of St. August,"remains one of my favorites.) Mignola has an incredible talent for breathing new life into these half-forgotten tales.

But the biggest difference between the movies and the comics lies in the over-reaching story arc of Hellboy and how the character has developed over the years. Where the movies were fast-paced bust 'em ups, Mignola's comics are set in a lower gear, moving slower but also providing more emotional torque. The pull between fate and choice is a major theme. Other demons recognize Hellboy as Anung un Rama, the Beast of the Apocalypse, destined--or doomed--to start Armageddon and bring the legions of Hell to Earth. Hellboy has sworn he'll never let that happen, but even while he continues fighting the good fight (and remains a proud white hat in this age of morally gray superheroes), gears are turning and things are constantly happening on the edge of the stories that neither Hellboy nor the reader ever quite see clearly. If Hellboy has a tragic flaw, it's that his disgust for his origins have kept him from examining his past or future too closely. At one point he says, "I like not knowing. I've gotten by for fifty-two years without knowing. I sleep good not knowing." But as more and more of his history is revealed, it's becoming clear that Hellboy will have to confront his destiny head on if he ever wants to break free of it.

The movies were great, but they never captured the sense of all-encompassing dread that Mignola weaves so skillfully through the original.

(Cross-posted on my blog)

Armed with Smarts, a Necklace, Some Tae Kwan Do, and a Sister

If, upon reading the prologue of Jake Ransom and the Skull King's Shadow, a new fantasy adventure from James Rollins, which follows Dr. Henry Bethel, Oxford University archaeologist, as he is being pursued through a jungle by grave robbers after the package he holds tightly to his chest (the package contains clues to a dark secret and priceless treasures) you were to think "Haven't I seen this movie? A few times?" you would be forgiven. And, if, when, the Dr., sinking into quicksand, relinquishes the package to the bad guy who thanks him with the diabolical line "Thank you Dr. Bethel. You've proven most resourceful," you were to audibly groan, no one would hold it against you.

Still, the book ultimately is not about Dr. Bethel, but about Jake Ransom, the son of two of Dr. Bethel's lost colleagues, Richard and Penelope Ransom. Jake is a somewhat nerdy and brilliant high school student, obsessed with the circumstances of his parents' disappearance. He studies archaeology and, more specifically Mayan culture, incessantly hoping to uncover clues to their fate. He trains in Tae Kwan Do in order to be prepared for some future dangerous expedition. His sister, Kady, reacts in diametric opposition to Jake, throwing herself into cheerleading and high school popularity in order to bury the pain of missing her mom and dad. In their parents' honor, they each wear Mayan amulets on their necks from a mysterious package sent to them after Richard and Penelope vanished.


When Jake and Kady are invited to a museum opening of a show (sponsored by an Evil Corporation) of the Mayan artifacts discovered by Richard and Penelope Ransom, their adventure begins. They are thrown into an alternative world, populated with humans from various periods and places in history as well as with dinosaurs and other prehistoric and fantastic creatures. This strange world is somehow connected to the corporation which originally sponsored the Ransom parents expedition and has sponsored the show which lured the younger Ransoms to the museum.

Jake and the Skull King's Shadow is plagued by a tendency toward cliché. The first thing that happens to Jake and Kady in the alternative world? They are attacked by--what else?--a T. Rex. (With so many newly discovered dinosaurs each year, many of them immensely cool and ferocious, one is forced to cry out with arms thrust heavenward, "WHY? WHY?") When, later in the tale, a traitor is revealed, the scene reads suspiciously like the mask-removing wrap-up from a Scooby Doo episode. "Why it’s you! How can this be? The character we would have least suspected!" This is followed by paragraphs of dialog, justifying the "surprise" in a spray of as-yet-unrevealed exposition.

In an afterward, Rollins explains that the references to Mayan technologies are based on factual archaeological research, and the dinosaurs he mentioned are all actual creatures form the fossil record. I can’t argue with the Mayan research, but I do take issue with some of Rollins’ paleontology. For one, he uses the term brontosaurus to describe a massive long necked dinosaur, but the designation “brontosaurus” hasn’t been recognized by paleontology for more than twenty years and the brontosaurus should be properly called an Apatosaurus. The book also makes the claim that pterosaurs lacked teeth, though in fact several species did have teeth.

Putting aside these flaws, the book's fast pacing, and collage of borrowed fantasy elements combined with archaeological fact-dropping are all expertly woven into an oddly original world, making this adventure an engaging read despite itself. Both Jake and Kady show dimension and depth, overcoming the lack of promise of their early scenes. Many of the supporting characters have real life to them as well. There are enough surprises thrown at Jake as he fights to get home with his sister that it's worth wincing through a few questionable “facts” and painfully cliché moments.

James Rollins promises more Jake Ransom titles to come.

Jake and the Skull King's Shadow is a Cybil Award Nominee.

Cross-posted at Critique de Mr. Chompchomp.

Don't Miss these Graphic Novels

I have been wildly behind in my graphic novel reading, so as I try to catch up, here are three good ones.

The Eternal Smile by Gene Luen Yang and Derek Kirk Kim
Gene Luen Yang, author of the amazing American Born Chinese, and Derek Kirk Kim, author of the award winning Same Difference and Other Stories, combine forces to create a graphic novel about our desires. The three stories employ more twists and turns than any suspense novel.

In Duncan's Kingdom, Duncan must prove is worth to the princess by avenging her father's death, but he is haunted by the presence of a bottle of soda. Gran'pa Greenbax and the Eternal Smile is about a greedy frog who finds a floating smile in the sky. Greenbax wants to make as much money as he can from his discovery so he founds the Church of the Eternal Smile. In Urgent Request, Janet, a lonely secretary, responds to an email request from a Nigerian prince who needs Janet and her bank account’s help in securing his family's fortune.

In these stories, Duncan wants love, Gran'pa Greenbax wants more money and Janet wants significance, but they all come realize what they really need. Like in American Born Chinese, the three stories are all told in their own unique style. The Eternal Smile does not quite have the same impact as American Born Chinese, but it is still a must-read and a significant graphic novel.

Applegeeks Volume 1: Freshman Year by Mohammad F. Haque and Ananth Panagariya

This volume collects the amusing web comic series from 2003 and 2004. Jayce and Hawk are entering their first year of college. We see them deal with the important aspects of college including videogames, girls, arguing about comic book characters and building the perfect robot girlfriend. Haque and Panagariya do a nice job mixing social commentary and pop culture references. Some of the Applegeek comics are indeed clumsy and contain convoluted storylines, but ultimately this is an enjoyable collection. The volume also throws in a lot of extras including editorial comments by the series creators.

Orange by Benjamin

Orange is a high school student ready to commit suicide when she meets a strange figure who changes everything. Orange's world becomes twisted and it is quite uncertain as to what is real at all. Orange is a generous helping of angst coupled with stunning images. I'm also grateful for a large selection of Benjamin’s vivid artwork included in the volume.

Silverfin - the Graphic Novel

I thought Charlie Higson's first Young Bond novel, Silverfin was all kinds of fantastic - the suspense, the atmosphere, the bad guys, the action sequences and narrow escapes. All parts of it made me into an instant Bond fan. This is saying a lot because I was a girl who had at that time never (yes, never), watched a Bond movie. I knew nothing of Sean or Pierce or Daniel. I do now. Since Higson's first book, I've not only caught myself up on the films, I've tried to keep up with the rest of Higson's series (now at 5 books), but I'm a tad behind. I'm thinking the best plan is a Bond marathon over Christmas break? Until then, I picked up Silverfin - the Graphic Novel to get me back in the spy spirit.

Now, for fans of the novel, there's quite a bit that isn't in the graphic version in terms of plot. That's understandable of course, since given the length of the original, a whole lot of exposition and dialogue had to be cut out. I like exposition and dialogue. That's the kind of reader I am. I wonder if I had not read the novel beforehand, would I still have felt that the graphic version moved a bit too rapidly, without quite enough time spent on each of the various plot threads and character development? Perhaps not. But that's how I felt. I found myself rounding the characters out, filling them in in my mind based on my memory of the novel. There's an interesting interview with Higson, in which he comments on the challenges of converting his text to the new format, and he notes that it wasn't easy to do, that ideally, more length would have been nice. Still, it works quite well, and most definitely the pages keep on turning. The brisk pacing and excitement is still there in full force.

The art work by Kev Walker and the layout design pack a real the visual punch. I loved the way the colour palette shifted as the story moved from one place to another, signaling a new sequence and setting. The opening section at the loch, all red and black, is super creepy and matches the horror of the events to perfection. The Eton sections are pale, quite muted, as if you're watching an old film - just right in spirit for the classy and legendary school. When James comes face to face with the true evil secret of Hellebore's Castle, everything suddenly turns deep shades of bright green, you know the "scientist gone bad" green colour (think Hulk). The colouring supported the text the same way music might in a film, changing as the mood changed, but not in a way that was heavy-handed.

My overall assessment? Well worth reading. Good fun for those who are already fans of the novels, who can fill things in a little along the way. You might be wondering about the first chapter? I know I was. The first chapter of Silverfin has to be one of the spookiest, most suspenseful openings I've ever read, period. Let's just say the graphic version of the opening was good enough to inspire an immediate second reading. If you're not shuddering by page 5, you should have your head examined.

Silverfin - the Graphic Novel by Charlie Higson & Kev Walker is published by Puffin.

Creepy fun book post!

So, at least six months ago, the publicist (or agent—some publishing beast or other) got in touch with us about reviewing Royce Buckingham’s novel Goblins! I immediately jumped at the chance because, here at Little Shop of Stories, the bookstore where I work in Decatur, GA, we love Demonkeeper, his other book. Demonkeeper is both scary and funny, and I figured, between Demonkeeper and Goblins!, I could get a good October-scary entry for Guys Lit Wire.

I thought I might try and interview Buckingham, or track levels of kidslit scary writing from James Howe (Bunnicula) to John Bellairs (The House with a Clock in its Walls), to Darren Shan’s series (Cirque du Freak and The Demonata) and on and on. But then I lent Goblins! to a cousin of mine, and I discovered what this is really all about…


See, I took the book with me last summer on a visit to our family cabin in western Kentucky—in a town called Fair Dealing, which is near Benton, which is near Paducah. Have I hit a place you’ve heard of yet? Anyways, we had dinner with cousins, and I discovered that my second cousin, Joseph Price, is an avid reader. Loves to read, actually. So I couldn’t resist; I wanted to put a book in his hand. I grabbed the only thing I had with me—Buckingham’s Goblins!

Brief aside: here’s what Joseph thought of the book, according to his mother (who sent me the email before I even got home from Kentucky):

Joseph has finished Goblins! by Royce Buckingham. In a nutshell, he really liked it! He particularly liked the mystery at the end of the book. He read the book quickly -- finished it in 2 days so it must be a page-turner. He says the characters were always interesting, the 5 main characters being the most interesting. There was a "whole lot of" action, which he liked. He wishes the author wrote more about the mystery at the end and more about the great goblin. He hopes there's a sequel or perhaps a series based on this book. He says it's just a "plain good book." Nothing bad to say, really.

I don’t want to delve much more into the plot of the book, because I like to think an enthusiastic review beats a synopsis any day. However, as a quick context, the book involves a world of goblins living underground, who begin to escape out to the world above, our world—and it’s up to some kids from the wrong side of the tracks to help prevent a horde of goblins from swarming into our everyday aboveground world.

But, as I said, I discovered that this is not really about one great book. What I discovered by talking to my young cousin is how great the community of books is. I live in a city outside Atlanta, I’m a father of a daughter not too much younger than Joseph, and yet he and I, two guys from very different worlds, were able to connect over great books. He told me what he had read recently, and I talked about those books and other books he might like. And then I gave him the Goblins! book, and he read it and thought about it, and talked to his friends about it, and they told him other books they like, and on and on. I like to think of our collective love of books like a big fall bonfire, with flames going ever higher, and everybody dancing around it and having a grand old time. Corny, yes, but then I have a soft spot for book mania.

Anyways, I guess this is really about a big public thank you to my cousin Joseph Price. Thank you for a fantastic evening of talking books, and thanks for being a fellow book lover!

(kind of cross posted here)

King of the Big What If

For years, whenever people would ask for a good teenage introduction to Stephen King I would suggest Different Seasons without hesitation. The collection of four novellas includes "Rita Hayworth and Shawshank Redemption," "Apt Pupil," "The Body," and "Breathing Lessons" which is a great way to experience the breadth of King's ability to tell a story. Or it used to be until I read his recent collection of short stories entitled Just After Sunset.

For many, King is one of the modern masters of horror and suspense, but beneath the genre is solid storytelling that rests heavily on explorations of The Big What If. Every Stephen King story is built on one idea and explored down the avenues he chooses to travel.

In Just After Sunset The Big What If could be what goes through the mind of a recent graduate in the moments leading up to a major American city being engulfed in a mushroom cloud. Or What If, at a roadside rest stop, you heard a domestic dispute nearby and had an alter ego that could possibly intervene, what would you do? And What If miscellaneous items appeared in your home and seemed to be transmitting images of their former owners in their final moments? Would you keep those items or try to find a way to return them?

In the introduction, Stephen King talks about how he'd been writing fewer and fewer short stories in the 80s and 90s. When asked to edit The Best American Short Stories a few years back King suddenly got the bug to write stories again and this collection is the result. Some of these stories are shorter than others – a few pages versus dozens of pages – all of them packed enough with solid storytelling to be a book in themselves.

As a warning, these stories do carry with them some adult themes, occasional language, and violence. Nothing any teen whose seen his share of movies would find too shocking, and certainly nothing they should be kept from reading, but I sometimes find people want to know these things in advance. What Stephen King does well is get under a reader's skin and he does this by understanding what and how things get under our skins. As a chronicler of our modern psyche he sometimes unearths some pretty dark aspects of humanity, but he wraps it up in some sturdy writing that gives readers a chance to really think about and feel these things.

I still like the Different Seasons collection, but I think Just After Sunset is my new go-to introduction for teens looking for an entry into the world of Stephen King.

Just After Sunset
by Stephen King
Scribner 2009

Different Seasons
by Stephen King
1982