CD Story Review #11: "The Officer's Club"

CD Issue #1

THIS BLOG EXPLAINED:

Richard Chizmar founded Cemetery Dance Magazine in 1988. It’s still in production today (now managed by author/ editor Brian James Freeman) & it’s considered one of the best horror mags of all time, having published and even discovered many of the genre’s most famous and successful authors. This blog series is my attempt to read, review, and research every story CD has ever printed. As of Issue #72 (January 2015), there are 540. I clearly have a long way to go.

STORY: “The Officer’s Club”

AUTHOR: Roman A Ranieri

CD APPEARANCE: Issue #1 (Dec. 1988: VOl. 1, Iss. 1), story 11 of 12.

PLOT:

Donald Wallace wakes suddenly to find himself in an all-white room. A amn is there wearing camoflague & calling him “Major Wallace”. Donald decudes he is in a military hospital, but is confused because he, too, is wearing Army fatigues even though he retired more than ten years prior. The other man then tells Wallace he is going into combat in mere minutes.

Wallace protests & complains, but the other man- whose nametag reads “PARKER” explains he is Wallace’s commanding officer, even though the chevrons on his uniform indicates he is merely a First Sergeant.

Sgt. Parker reminds Wallace of Delta Company and the battle of Kham Duc, words that instantly bring feelings of dread and remorse to Wallace. At that battle, lots of men died on Wallace’s orders. Parker then accuses Wallace of his negligence, selfishness, and uncaring of their lives, revealing that he himself was one of the victims of that battle.

Parker further explains that Wallace himself is now dead, having succumed to a massive heart attack the night before. In a fit of fear and anger, Wallace exlaims that he can’t be where he appears, that God has not yet judged him. Parker explains God has already done so, and that the memory has been wiped since no damned soul should be allowed to see the glorious, beautiful face of God an remember.

A Trench With Only One Officer

Suddenly, the white room is gone and in exchange Wallace finds himself standing in a deep trench of red rock and sandy soil. In the trench with him are thousands of other men. Each are soldiers. Their uniforms indicate, first, that they are from many countries all around the worlds and, second, that they are also from many different time periods and historic battles. Last of all, Wallace realizes each of the men in uniform are also all officers.  

“Sort of like the ultimate Officer’s Club. Eh, Major?” Parker says. And before Wallace can respond, a whistle sounds from an unseen location and suddenly the thousands of uniformed, dead officers are all running and climbing out of the trench. Each is followed & pushed by a lower-ranking, dead soldier like Sgt. Parker.

Immediately upon entering the battlefield Wallace is shot in the hand. The pain and surprise is immense. He sees the approaching opposing army is made entirely of demons. In their horrible hands is carried every weapon of past, present, and future imaginable.

Wallace steps on a mine. His calf and leg muscles are ripped from his leg, yet he somehow keeps running. All the other officers around him are suffering the same fates: injured and maimed, they all continue to run.

A Nazi Colonel next to Wallace is engulfed in flames & Wallace’s shirt and the skin of his chest and stomach are soon burning and charring.

The armies meet. A giant bat-demon uses a samurai sword to hack off Wallace’s right arm at the shoulder. Wallace finally stops running & falls to the ground. The bat-demon raises the sword and cuts Wallace in two. Only then does the battlefield and his pain begin to ebb away.

Major Donald Wallace wakes to Parker’s voice. He is again standing in the trench. The story ends with the line, “From somewhere unseen, the whistle blew.”

MY REVIEW: 4 out of 5 stars.

CD Blurb on Author Roman A. Ranieri

What Ranieri did in this story was very simple: he gave us a view of hell from the perspective of the men who participated in it. The grunt soldiers (who are, it is strongly insinuated, victims of their own superiors) get their own kind of revenge by watching & commanding the officers who allowed them to die.

What caught my attention most of all was the all-encompasing nature to the Hell Renieri created. This wasn’t just Major Donald Wallace’s story of retribution, it was the story of retribution paid to literally thousands and thousands of military men throughout all of time. Combatants from both sides of every battle ever fought are represented. This tells us that Ranieri views all war- or at least all officers of war- to be evil. He included many specifics to push this thought home… the uniforms are of British, French, German, Japanese, Russian, Australian, Italian, American, Mexican, & Spanish origins. The weapons mentioned included machine guns, rifles, flamethrowers, bows & arrows, spears, & swords.  The overall picture presented is one of world-wide proportions, and it makes the overall story feel much bigger than it otherwise would have.

Another facet I liked was the personalization given to our protagonist, Major Wallace. *He* after all, is the one we witness waking to the surprise of his life. *He* is the one whose leg is destroyed in the land mine. *He* is the one who feels the anguish of pain with his many wounds and his eventual relief when he finally “dies”. And, of course, it is *he* who we watch as the final line reveals the true fate- an infinitety of suffering- that these thousands of officers will have.

This combination of seeing one man represent the many and yet seeing the many in their diversity of cultures and perspectives (the addition of the Nazi Colonel was a particularly nice touch) is a powerful one. I can only imagine how their thousands of stories are told over and over again, all so very similar even after all their centuries of hatred towards one another. It’s an entertaining message, and a good one.

Yet I could not quite give Ranieri 5 stars. The writing (ie: his ability to “turn a phrase”) was simple, even a bit lacking, and the endint to the story was predictable. Not that either of these is a knock to the overall piece. I enjoyed the story and would gladly read more of Ranieri’s writing. But I’d be lying if I said he rocked my world with this one. He gave me what I expected and hoped for, but not much more.

Regular readers of this blog know that I always try to share something I learned about the craft of writing in each of my reviews. In the case of “The Officer’s Club,” I’m struggling to do so. Yet I don’t think this is because the story fell short in any way. I think it’s because it merely followed the typical formula of what I think of as any old-school horror story… Act I: We meet a character for whom we quickly feel sorry. (Wallace is confused? Poor guy. Wallace is *dead*?! Uh-oh. This does not bode well). Act II: We learn the truth of the situation/ that character, and it’s horrible. (Wallace is in Hell, he experiences physical agony, and he totally deserves it). Act III: The horror within the story is pushed to another level & ends with a strong element of  Mwuuu-Hahaha! (Wallace isn’t the only one- there are thousands more like him- and their suffering will happen over & over again). So I guess, upon more thinking, I realize now that despite my own preclivity toward telling stories that are unique or have a different perspective on well-told tales, Ranieri’s piece has reminded me that simple, even formulaic stories are still entertaining. And there’s nothing wrong with that.

A Formula I Don't Understand

CD Story Review #10: "An Island Unto Herself"

CD Issue #1

EXPLANATION:

Richard Chizmar founded Cemetery Dance Magazine in 1988. It's still in production today (now managed by author/ editor Brian James Freeman) & is considered one of the best horror mags of all time, having published and even discovered many of the genre's most famous and successful authors. This blog series is my attempt to read, review, and research every story CD has ever printed. As of Issue #72 (January 2015), there are 540. I clearly have a long way to go.  

STORY: "An Island Unto Herself"

AUTHOR: Barry Hoffman

CD APPEARANCE: Issue #1 (Dec. 1988: Vol. 1, Iss. 1), story 10 of 12

PLOT: 

Donna is upset that none of her pen pals have written back to her lately. Then, in a long (roughly 2/3 of the story) flashback, she remembers the events surrounding her first pen pal, Sandra...

Donna was in 6th grade & she was a loser: she was chubby, plain, not terribly intelligent, spoke with a lisp, wore dowdy clothes, was the subject of "four-eyes" jokes, and hid (and sweated) under a heavy winter coat all through fall, winter, & spring. To top off the list, her father was gone & her mother was an abusive drunk. She is so different she is utterly alone, an island unto herself.

Then one day her teacher announced a pen pal program, and while the other students groaned at the additional work, Donna delighted at the prospect of making a new friend who could not prejudge her.

Donna's assigned pen pal is a girl named Sandra, and that night Donna pours her heart out in seven full pages of hope-laden scribble, then secretly mailed it while her mother was passed out in front of the tv. Next came the long and worrying wait for a possible reply. 

Days go by & Donna's classmates begin to excitedly tell of their return letters. But despite her heartbreak, Donna holds out hope that Sandra is taking more time b/c her response will not be as superficial & shallow as those of her classmates' pen pals.

Finally, after a full week, the letter from Sandra arrives. But Donna needs to lie to her mother about what it is so it won't be thrown away. Then she needs to do several hours of chores until her mother gets drunk enough to pass out again. When it finally happens, Donna locks herself in her room & tears open "six glorious pages!" of Sandra's reply. 

Even better than the length, the content is almost as real as Donna's.  While Sandra's problems were those confined to the popular crowd (The Troubles With Her Brother, The Strict Parents, and of course the ever-popular Difficulty In Choosing Which Cute Boy To Like The Most), there was none of the trite gossip (name, age, height, hair color, favorite sports, hobbies, etc.) her classmates had received. 

Look at those crazy eyes & wicked
smile. This may actually be Donna! 

Donna wrote back 5 pages, but Sandra wrote back only 2 & 1/2, some of which actually was trite this time. So Donna wrote 5 more, leading Sandy with better content in the hopes of getting a better reply. Sandy did respond in kind, but the letter took a while to receive, and the one after that took even longer. Eventually, Donna felt forced to chastise her friend for the long delays. Sandy, of course, didn't appreciate it & their correspondence abruptly ended despite Donna's multiple attempts to apologize.

Thinking all was lost, Donna spiraled into a quick & deep depression until her teacher announced another class with which they could have new pen pals. The class, however, is less enthusiastic than the first time & the teacher throws the list of names & addresses in the trash.  Donna, seeing a wealth of potential new friends, steals the list & writes to 7 girls that night.

End flashback. Insert 2 brief paragraphs explaining Donna is now 32 & has been writing to multitudes of pen pals for years, sometimes to as many as 15 at once. She finds their info from fan clubs, talk shows, & classified ads.

Back to where this all started... This day, Donna receives no letters yet again & looking back she suddenly realizes it's because she's the one who hasn't been writing to them. And why is that? Because after more than 2 decades of writing her deepest feelings to strangers who temporarily filled her need for true friendship, she has finally run out of things to say.

Deciding that with nothing to say she has no reason to live, Donna gets in her car & drives at higher & higher speeds with the intention of killing herself. But at the last second she cannot. She screams inside her locked car, but of course no one hears. Donna is as alone as she always had been, that island still very much unto herself.

Then she sees & picks up a hitchhiker. A younger guy. They talk as she drives. They bond over stories of parental abuse. Donna pulls over. They kiss. Kissing turns to making out. Donna gets aggressive, first verbally then physically. She asks him odd questions which clearly show she is confusing the past & the present.

Soon she is calling herself "mommy" & accuses him of lying. In her mind she thinks he's "fake... just like Sandy. Just like all of them. Use me then cast me away."

Then Donna stabs him in the neck. Three times.

With a pen.

In the story's final paragraphs, Donna dumps his body, knowing nobody will see her (because nobody ever sees her), then goes home & writes a letter confessing every detail of the murder.  When the same letter arrives 2 days later, Donna does not realize she mailed it to herself. She thinks it's a pen pal. She does, however, find the words in the letter exciting & fulfilling. So she grabs her pen & goes out on the "prowl" to do it again.

REVIEW: 4 out of 5 stars.

CD blurb on author Barry Hoffman

First, let me list the reasons why this isn't a 5-star story...
1) There is a harsh & too-brief transition from the 10-year-old Donna to her current 32-year-old self. We get a mere 2 paragraphs before the flashback (neither of which show us she's even an adult at this stage), and then 41 paragraphs of the childhood Donna before switching back in just 2 more. It's too fast for a transition that big, making it awkward to read, hard to envision, & easy to miss more important upcoming details.
2) The seemingly-relevant relationship between Donna & her mother is left completely unfinished. Yes, Donna clearly grew into another sick version of her mom, but where mom is today & how Donna may have gotten out of that relationship is a gaping hole in their story. If it wasn't important to finish that story, why bother showing us 5 paragraphs of their interactions? It would have been enough to know she was abused & leave it at that. What's more, neither of the two critical details that shows us she's turned into her mother ("calling the hitchhiker a 'bad boy' & calling herself 'mommy') were things her actual mother actually said. Had these words/ details been specific holdovers from her own years of abuse, then those aforementioned interactions would have held more weight.
3) The timely arrival of the hitchhiker was quite contrived. The story did need a catalyst to drive Donna over the brink of insanity, but an unknown stranger willing to hop in her car and have sex at that moment is simply too perfect, and therefore lame.
4) Grammatically, there are several improper (excessive) uses of the comma. Example: "And, Sandy, was getting pissed with Donna's demands to write more often." These were just distracting enough to pull me out of the story for a moment, which is the cardinal sin of any typo.

The Cool Pic Heading this Story's First Page

And now, the reasons why it isn't just 3 stars...
1) Hoffman actually hooked me before the end of the first page. Why? Because he managed to paint the picture of a childhood loser w/out having to resort to listing the necessary characteristics as I did in my description. Instead, he worked them in gradually, piece by piece. In one sentence he mentioned Donna had "only one friend". In another, he showed the other kids calling her names. In the next, we learn her clothes are wrong and her home life is shit. The characterization was a subtle growth rather than a violent belch of factoids. For this reason, Donna's character is a believable one. I saw her as a real person, one I could both pity and with which I could empathize. I liked her, even though I suspected she would be trouble.

2) The ending wasn't just solid, it was fantastic. I mean, truly, truly excellent. Did I see her murder of the hitchhiker coming? Only about a half-sentence before it actually came. By then I was too deep into the pathetic elements of who Donna had always been, thanks to that great character-writing. Did I even realize she'd used a pen to do the deed? Honestly, I read right past it. Picking up a pen from the armrest of your car is such a natural thing. I was busy feeling icky at the gross sexual appetite of Donna & her desperate stranger. But when I back-tracked & realized what Hoffman had done, I smiled & nodded my appreciation, instantly forgetting about the typos and the other plot misfortunes. And did I think it was over when she dumped the body? I did. Which means her ill-fated last letter written to herself which would later be received & read with fresh eyes was a fresh perspective for me. I had thought she was a character who simply cracked after twenty years of bottling pain. Then the letter comes & she goes out looking for more and I suddenly realize she's not just a one-day wacko, she's a legit serial killer. And I got to see the birth, growth, and maturation of it all. What a great final concept to leave in my head as I close the magazine & try to go on with my real life. Truth is, I couldn't do it. Not for several minutes. And isn't that what we all strive to do when we read great fiction: to step away from the real world for a while? I believe it is, and I believe Hoffman nailed that most critical part of being a storyteller.

FINAL THOUGHTS:
Two things come to mind on this one. First, Barry Hoffman did make a few mistakes, but where it truly mattered everything clicked. Without reading his other works (both pre- and post- "Island Unto"), it would be unfair of me to say he was probably a younger author with true talent who was still learning the ropes. It's entirely possible he'd been writing for twenty years at that point and this was the highlight of his career. Equally possible: he had spent the better part of his 8 years as a teacher actually doing his day job & had only recently picked up paper and pen. I would believe either one. But what I can take away from this juxtaposition of talent & ignorance is that tried & true statement describing the employees of all professions: everybody has their own skills and their own weaknesses. Hoffman's skills easily surpassed his faults in this one, and I was happy the Cemetery Dance crew (oh wait... there was no crew back in '88... just Richard Chizmar all by himself) found & published this one.

The other thought floating around in my head is that this story wouldn't work today. And it has nothing to do with Barry Hoffman's abilities or style. It's simply that the whole pen pal concept is dated and no longer relevant to today's society.  Do elementary schools still do pen pal swaps? I bet they probably do, but to what end? The original idea was to learn about other cultures & places, but this is an entirely moot point in a society where literally the entire cosmos is at our fingertips. Kids these days are exposed to more examples of remote villages and strange governments of the world than we 40-somethings would have hoped to learn before graduating high school. Hell, before graduating college. So would this story even work in a modern setting? The story's prominent message is, I think, that social outcasts never learn the necessary coping skills to deal with life's hardest moments, and sometimes that is a recipe for disaster. Certainly this is still a true statement and relevant to children today. In fact, it is perhaps even more relevant than ever with their tendency to make online "friends" who have no faces or voices & can go away with amazing speeds and a frightening lack of emotional pull.
If you will allow me a slight tangent, I am reminded of my own recent dealings with poor reviews for my novel, "Man Hunt". Very quickly... I had a really big sale, paid for some great advertising, and sold LOTS of copies... then in the first 5 days I received a shocking collection of 1-star reviews. And they were mean too. Unjustifiably so. Suspiciously so. 'Trolls?' I thought. Perhaps. But perhaps not, and that's my point here. Now no writer likes to received poor reviews, and every writer knows not to get caught in that web of spiraling muck by contacting stalking the perpetrators of such evil. But of course we're only human ourselves, and I've come to believe that unless I become a truly big name in writing fiction, the best I can do is to minimize my interactions with said trollish subhumans. So, yes, I looked at their Amazon profiles & other reviews. All of them. And do you know what I found? Normal human behavior, nothing more. They posted good reviews & bad. They wrote about lots of books, but also lots of other products. They were people, in other words, voicing their honest opinions, not immature 'trolls' out for a good time. Which (finally) turns me back to my point... why the hell are people online so cruel? My answer: because the internet has no face. You see, it's a thousand times harder to say something mean to a human face than it is to a handful of letters on a screen. Even my own opening analysis of Hoffman's story is certainly harsher than I'd ever say to his face if I'd ever meet him. But barring a zombie apocalypse (something which I'm not entirely opposed to, by the way :D ), the internet is here to stay. Which means that pen pals are a thing of the past, and hurtful reviews and facebook comments are likely to be even worse in the future. So how do we combat this inevitable disaster? (Don't say zombie apocalypse). In my humble opinion, it's simple: we take pains to seek out more faces. Get out of the house. Get under the sun. This is the reason I go to book signings (both my own & others') & the reason I always tell the restaurant manager when an employee is particularly nice... because we humans are social creatures. We are not meant to be islands unto ourselves. Hoffman got that one right. It's another takeaway from this story. One that I hope you agree with.

If not, I guess there's always zombies.  

Final Image Offered By CD At the Very End of Hoffman's Story
NICE. 

BRAG BOX:
Totally unrelated to Hoffman's story is this exciting news...
After 7 years scouring the internet & opening literally thousands of For Sale links for the final 2 issues I needed to complete my CD collection, two weeks ago I hit paydirt. On Feb. 22nd, I opened yet another auto-notification for an item selling on ebay matching my search criteria. And there it was, Issue #7. I bought it for the low, low (no, VERY low) price of $5. (Full Disclosure: I actually spent $10.51 for the listing, but it came with another issue which I already owned. When I got them, I re-sold the extra issue for $5, leaving my cost at barely more than the original cover price.)
Then, just 2 weeks later on March 8th, I opened another, completely unrelated ebay auto-notification & found myself staring at the illusive Issue #6. This one is truly a rare find. I believe that only 1,000 issues had been printed of this one (unlike the ~10k of issues 4, 5, 7, 8, & 9... or so I've read on the interwebs somewhere). It is as rare as Issue #1. I bought it for $48, despite the eager sniping attempt of 2 would-be ebay trolls. But I out-smarted them, having put in my ultra-high bid from the beginning. I don't know if the e-troll knew what he was looking at. I did. It was the first time I've ever seen one for sale, anywhere, and I wasn't going to lose out.
It is with great satisfaction I can therefore announce... I have completed my collection of Cemetery Dance Magazine. I own them all.
Now then... I should really get reading & reviewing!!! :D