Surrounded by Darkness

Sometimes I am just drawn to the dark stories.

At any one time, I am reading multiple books, so it tends to even out, but right now, I am surrounded by misunderstanding, lies, death and deceit. 

Not 5 minutes ago, I finished my latest audio book, Sharp Objects by Gillian Flynn. 

I don't often listen to murder stories in my car, especially by authors unknown to me.  There is something vulnerable about being read to, all alone, as I drive the 45 minute commute to and from work.  For some reason, this story about murdered little girls and a woman who cuts words into her skin beckoned. 
Perhaps I was curious about the words she picked and placed such as "wicked" above her hipbone and "harmful" on her wrist, which made me want to delve into this darkness.    Whatever the reason, I am glad I heard the story, but will be haunted by it for a long time.

Camille is a reporter who lives in Chicago, but grew up in a tiny go-nowhere-town in Tennessee called Wind Gap.  The first of three daughters to a spoiled, rich heiress, Camille grew up around politeness so thick you could cut it with the pig slaughtering knife that had made her family its money.  Camille and her mother don't speak too much, and when they do, nothing much is said.  Her middle sister died when she was only 13 and her younger sister is about 15 years her junior.  Sometimes Camille doesn't even remember that she exists.

When two girls are murdered in this tiny town, Camille's editor orders her to go home and get the scoop.  She doesn't want to go.  Too many memories of a cold, loveless childhood and the ghost of her dead sister.  She goes anyway.

What follows is a really messed up story about sick family dynamics and jealousy.  Who has killed these little girls?  Why were their teeth removed?  How did her sister really die?  Delving deep into the subjects of alcoholism, cutting, Munchhausen Syndrome, and denial, the book kept me rapt until the very end.  I sat in my car in the driveway to finish it up.  Although my mind had run through the list of suspects throughout the whole story, the ending was still a shocker.  When I looked up the website for the book, http://gillian-flynn.com/sharp-objects/, I saw that the first review had been written by Stephen King.  Figures. 

The other book I am into right now is called Newes from the Dead, a young adult novel by Mary Hooper.  One of my 8th graders requested I order a copy for our library.  I got two.  Gave one to her, and started the other myself.  Based on the true story of servant girl, Anne Green, the story takes place in 1651, when a young woman was hanged for the murder of her stillborn child.  Having been impregnated and betrayed by the uncouth heir of the estate where she is employed, she has not a chance.  Anne is hung and her body is taken to be dissected in front of an audience of doctors (and the young man's grandfather), and yet she is still alive. 

I haven't finished the book yet, as I read bits at a time during my short lunch period which is constantly being interrupted.  I have two weeks left of school, and had better make reading this sad and intriguing book a priority.  Maybe I'll let you know how it ends, or maybe you'll just have to find out for yourself.

Today I stopped by my local library to return the movie "Dinner for Schmucks", which was pretty funny, and thought I'd just pick up a new audio, knowing I was at the end of Sharp Objects.  What do you know?  A Stephen King novella that I had not read/heard yet.  I guess the gruesome still beckons me.  Not a surprise.  Thanks for listening. 

1408

I have a serious case of the creeps right now. I would blame Stephen King, but I know better. It's my fault. I KNEW that story was horrifying, and yet, I decided to reread it. Well guess what. In the vein of The Shining, I have to put the book down and get my normal equilibrium back. This story, called "1408" is damn scary.

As a child, I was plagued by fright until I was almost 30 years old. Scared of the dark, scared of being alone in the house, scared of malevolent spirits living in trees (especially Oak) or in certain houses. When I was younger, pre-teen or so, one of my tasks was to close and lock the garage door every night. The garage was seperate from the house. I would have to cross the back yard, pass the slightly creepy "playhouse" that used to be a homemade camper shell of some type. (It was dark wood and although we played in it, it never felt quite right.)  Past the little playhouse was the garage. The door slid to the left to close. It locked with a padlock. I would have to reach in, turn off the light, slam the door, lock it and get back into the house before something evil got me. My heart is beating hard just thinking about it. On the bad days, I would forget about closing it until after dusk. I would rush over, hit that light if it was on,  try not to look into the dark space within, get that door shut and locked as quick as I could.  I would then race back into the safety of the house. I don't think my feet hit most of the four steps on the way up into the house. They were flying.

When I stayed at my Grandma's house, I was creeped out about what was lurking under the bed, ready to grab my foot and pull me under. (During the day, that bed and space underneath was relatively safe. I hid under there regularly when playing with friends or hide-and-go-seek with my brother. But at night it was a different story altogether. The house had nightlights, but sometimes they make matters worse. The shadows can be unholy and grotesque. I would pause on the threshold, then make a wild leap onto the bed. My grandmother called me out on it a few times. She did not approve of my wild crashing onto the bed, but I doubt I shared with her the reason I did it. Something was possibly under that bed; something hungry.

Sleeping at my mom's house, I would line my stuffed animals and dolls all around me like a sacred ring. Head to toe they would surround me and keep me safe. I still remember lying there, breathing shallowly, waiting to finally go to sleep. 

In my late-20's, I realized that some of that paralyzing fear had diminished. I could stay alone in the house and be ok. It helped that I had Tobi to keep me company, of course. Tobi was our dog, the runt of the litter, about 1/4 pitbull. Small but with a wide evil streak. She was very protective of me and I felt better when she was around and E was off somewhere else.

I am a huge Stephen King fan. I've read pretty much everything. I don't know why I can handle his books but not watch scary movies or read other creepy authors. A couple of times, however, I have had to put a book down and come back to my safe self. I had to stop reading The Shining two times. It just colored my whole day wrong. The movie gets scarier for me every time I see it. I was listening to a podcast a few weeks ago where a man spoke about how when he was about 7, he watched the movie with his uncle. It scarred him. They played some clips from the movie.  "Play with us, Danny", spoken by the ghostly murdered girls. gave me the chills then and just did again. Lunacy freaks me out. Haunted spaces that can make one lose one's mind are high on my list of horrible things in this world. The story, "1408", is one of those.

At my recent yardsale, I picked up King's Everything's Eventual from my girlfriend for a buck. It is a collection of short stories published in 2002. I listened to it on audio a few years ago, but had forgotten some of it. Besides, I didn't have THIS book in my collection. The whole time I was reading it, I was fine. The stories are twisted and weird and disturbing, but I was ok. In the back of my mind, however, a quiet but cautious voice didn't let me forget what was coming. "1408". Earlier tonite, I finished "That Feeling, You can Only Say What It Is In French", and turned the page. There it was. My heart sped up, I put the bookmark in the book and walked away. A few hours later, my chores were done. Time to crawl into bed and face the fear.

I got about halfway through. My spidey senses were prickling and I had to get out of the bedroom. I turned on all the lights. Checked on J and his friend, E who was sleeping over. I thought about finished the story in their company, but the light was already off. Ok. Next plan. Open the fridge. (Hmmmm. Comfort eating?) I heated up some leftover soup and decided to share my fear with my blog readers. I sat down at the computer desk. To my left was the open closet door. Heck no. I pushed it closed. It opened again. (This shouldn't have been creepy, the house is old and there is no latch to keep the door closed. Still. Decidedly creepy.) I continued typing, horribly aware of the door cracked open and, worse, the small hole where a doorknob used to live. Something was watching me. I pushed the laundry basket against the door. That solved the problem of keeping it closed, but I was still aware of the hole.

Yes, I will finish the story. E is home now. Maybe I'll read it tonite, but since the fear has been reduced to a low hum in my spine, I'll probably wait for the safety of the light of day tomorrow when we are driving to Legoland to celebrate our son's 10th birthday.

I realize that I haven't even really explained what the story is about. Just a haunted hotel room, who's numbers add up to 13. People die in that room. Suicide. "Natural" causes. Digital devices don't work in there either. The room is alive and it is really, really evil. They made a movie a few years ago. When I first saw the preview I decided that under no circumstances would I watch it, despite the fact that it stars John Cusack who is a cupcake. I'm sure they changed the plot to suit themselves and it probably doesn't come close to being as scary as the story, but still. I have stayed far away from it.

King's  are something else, however. I can handle them, even if it is in small doses. I'll get back to it tomorrow. Perhaps you'd like to check it out. If you do, let me know if it scared you as much as it scares me. For now, goodnight. Sweet dreams. I hope I have them myself. Thanks for listening.

Under The Dome

I finished King's Under the Dome book last week.  It was pretty great.  Spoiler alert:  if you plan on reading it, stop reading this now!

I saw familiar King elements pulled together in this story about a small town that suddenly finds itself trapped under an invisible and barely oxygem-permeable dome.  King likes to set his stuff in Maine (duh) and, as usual, had some kick-a** female characters.  Instead of drawing in "the Dark Man" who often wreaks havoc and tragedy upon unsuspecting folks, he brought in his other favorite theory . . . aliens.

As in The Stand, one of the main characters is a man who is roaming around, trying to see where he might fit.  In The Stand, it is a deaf mute who is beaten up for no good reason, and is just trying to mind his own business when he has to deal with tragedy (like most of the world dropping dead from the Superflu).  Under the Dome's guy (Dale Barbara, or "Barbie" ) used to serve in the military and didn't like what he had to do over in Iraq.  Now he is a line cook who turns down the advances of a horny waitress.  She doesn't like being shunned and tells her boyfriend that Barbie forced her sexually.  He is jumped by 4 guys in the parking lot soon after.  Barbie is on his way out of town when the dome plops itself down on the town, trapping him inside with a bunch of good people and a bunch of nut cases, some of them homocidial.  As King says ( in the interview I have included as a link), "Why do people do what they do under stress?"  Their true natures come out, that's for sure.

Turns out, the dome was placed over the town via some sort of small device by some naughty alien children.  The analogy is of kids who tear the wings off bugs just because they can.  These kids trap a bunch of people just for the heck of it.  Meanwhile, the air is getting bad, the dome is getting filthy from built-up toxins, maniacs are trying to run the town, the local Meth operation is about to go kaboom and people are just trying to survive it all.  Very few of them do.

The book was huge and awesome.  I like it when there's a whole bunch of characters and you just have to keep reading to see what's going to happen next. 

Awhile ago, I requested the audio version through the library.  I am still on the waiting list and debated cancelling it because I know the story now and my commute is going to be non-existent due to the summer break, but you know what?  It was good enough to put on my ipod and listen to the story unfold again. 

Here's a link to a 4-minute author interview:
http://www.simonandschuster.com/multimedia?video=46697674001

Stephen King's "Under the Dome"

I am a huge Stephen King fan. Huge. He is on my short list of people I would like to hang out with. Even though some of his stories absolutely terrify me (The Shining, Pet Semetary, Carrie, (and I will never read Cujo again)), he has a way about him that is comforting. It's like he says, "Dear Constant Reader, I will tell you a story now. You might get grossed out. You might cry. But you're gonna enjoy yourself and I'll hold your hand from time to time. Trust me."

My favorite book of his is The Stand, which is about the United States after a superflu bug is set loose from a military base and kills 99.9% of humans (and dogs). It is a monster of a book, weighing in at about 4 lbs. Seriously. I have read it at least 4 times.

Last year, Under the Dome came out. As usual, I waited until I got my hands on it at the library. I am on the waiting list for the audio version, but found it in regular form the other day when I took Jake to replenish his supply of audio books. (He was sick and bed-bound. Nothing like a little Goosebumps to make you feel better, I guess!) King's latest tome caught my eye. Without thought, I picked it up, cradling it like a long-lost babe. (I had been waiting A YEAR!)

Now this book is 1074 pages, including his Author Note (in which he stated that he started the (now lost) manuscript in 1976.) I have a huge pile of books by my bed (and I am currently reading at least half of them, have more books by my comfy chair in the dining room with bookmarks sticking out of them, a book in my car, plus two at work. This "Dome" book pretty much negates anything else for the time being. (Although I have to admit being pretty into John Joseph's autobiography, The Evolution of a Cro-Mangnon and will find a little time to keep chugging through the life-changing Women Who Run with the Wolves (by Charissa Pinkola Estes).

Chapter one of Under the Dome begins with a woodchuck being cut in half when a mysterious dome slams down around a town. Birds in full flight slam into it, breaking their necks. A woman is learning to fly a plane. It rams into the dome, body parts raining down with fiery plane pieces. Another woman is gardening, her arm outstretched. It is lopped off.

It's gonna be a good one. Stay tuned.