Showing posts with label Perspective. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Perspective. Show all posts

Wednesday, June 25, 2014

CD Story Review #7: Rock of Ages

THE COVER OF ISSUE #1
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 #71 (May. 2014), there are more than 530.
 
 
STORY: “Rock of Ages” 
AUTHOR: John B. Rosenman
CD APPEARANCE: Issue #1 (Dec. 1988: Vol. 1, Iss. 1), story 7 of 12 

 
 
PLOT:  Steve Marsh is indulging in childhood nostalgia by visiting the county fair. He feels foolish for dishing out a buck fifty to visit the fun house [remember, the year is 1988], and his wife Bette is outside, waiting impatiently to 'carp' at him when he is done. But for now he is remembering when life was better.

The carnival barker pitched that Steve would see "the most frightening thing in the world" inside the fun house, and as he turns the doorknob & steps in he wonders absently what it would actually take to meet such high claims. He expects nothing more than paper mache monsters, sliding platforms, trick mirrors, and "air holes that goosed you from below".

What he sees, however, is a scene from his own past. A day from his teens when he & Bette made love for the first time. It had been outdoors. It had been hurried and clumsy. And it had been a set-up. Bette, three years his senior, had easily seduced him and told him a few days after that she'd gotten pregnant. Weeks later they were married and Steve's life of hell had begun. Except Bette hadn't been pregnant. She had lied, Steve realizes now that he is about to watch the single event that ruined his life.

In a (final?) release of all those pent-up years of frustration and hatred, Steve steps forward, flings his teenage self off of the teenage Bette, picks up a rock, and brains Bette in the face multiple times.

Moments later his visit to the past is over and he is back in the fun house. He steps outside and realizes that his wife is nowhere to be seen. Better still, a different woman, beautiful and kind-faced, seems to be smiling and waving at him. They walk towards each other, but she veers aside and greets another man. He suddenly realizes the rock is still in his hand. Then Bette makes her reappearance, changed only by the new horrific scar on her face and the ominous words: "Steve, you didn't think you had escaped me, did you?
 

REVIEW: 5 out of 5 stars.

As a reader, I appreciated how Rosenman shows us that just because a story is short (only 1,000 words) doesn't mean it's necessarily simple. "Rock of Ages" has so much packed into it. (Seriously, look how long my summary is. It's practically as long as the story itself!) In it we find good characterization, a great build-up to the ending, and (perhaps most importantly) actual horror. What is the scariest sight in the world? Answer: Having to re-live the worst moment of your life.

CD BLURB ON AUTHOR JOHN B. ROSENMAN

Not bad for a thousand words.

For a moment, let's go back to that ending. By showing the beautiful other woman, Rosenman gives us just the right touch of hope before reality comes crashing down. Twice. Even better (worse?) we are left dealing with a gruesome message too: if you're weak-minded or gullible, watch out. You're in for a world of hurt, and if you dare try to fix that world, it's only going to get worse.

The story has another advantage to which I must give an appreciative nod: Working time travel into any story that isn't primarily about time travel is just cool. I'm a big fan of that subgenre, and I've come to believe it's HARD to do it right in a short space.

I also love the title. "Rock of Ages". I see what you did there, Rosenman. You took a cliché & gave it an entirely new meaning, and a witty one at that.

As a writer, Rosenman's story reinforces that age-old rule in fiction that shorter is better. If this were a 3,000-word story, I'd give it 4 stars and explain that he dragged it on too long or over-described. But seeing the sheer depth of this piece not only warrants it's 5-star accolade, but also reminds this writer about the dangers of verbosity when brevity will do.
 

Saturday, April 5, 2014

Author Fail

I DON'T WANNA!
I'm tired and I don't want to write. I just want to take the night off. But if I do... oh, if I do what struggles may come immediately. I've been down this road before, you see. Quitting is a runaway train, a bison on the loose, the opening of a diseased vein. And on the other side of even a single night of failure is a steep downward hill, a stampede, a bucket of blood.

I know some of you may think this is strange, or at least the timing of it is. Just a few days ago I shared not one but two bits of genuinely good news (my new novel is done & totally unrelated, I won a writing award). And here I am in the wallows of guilt again? I understand your confusion, but I believe there is a connection…

My last post discussed how exhausting (zombie-like) I feel each time I finish a book. I believe what you are reading now is another side of that exhaustion. There is the side of myself that feels proud of what I’ve recently accomplished. Then there is the other side that is not only exhausted but also feels like I’ve finally earned at least ONE day off.

DAM(N) IT!
But therein lies the problem. It will most certainly not end with one day. To cave to my selfishness now would be to break the seal or even open the floodgates. I MUST write tonight, if for no other reason than to say I did so even at a dark hour such as this.

When I began this blog in November, I did so with the intention of becoming more consistent with my writing. I stuttered to start, but there was definite improvement. Recently, I’ve employed the undertaking of writing EVERY day, if even only a little. I even joined a “Magic Spreadsheet” community that tracks daily writing success. (I’ll explain more about that in another post). And it’s been an overwhelming success. Today marks my 63rd day in a row, and I honestly don’t feel even a little bit guilty these days.
YOU SHALL NOT PASS!

But what happens when I skip a day? What happens when I break my streak?  Answer: I fail.

I said I’ve done this before, and I have. I’ve made myself promises before (I’ve even used the Magic Spreadsheet community). And while each time I make that challenge I’ve also met with varying degrees of success, I always meet my failure for the same reason: I cheat, and by that I mean I cheat myself. I’m tired so I decide to skip a day. I tell myself I’ll be back at it tomorrow, and often that happens. But inevitably that is also the day that begins my downward spiral.

So this time, I’m not quitting. I’m keeping my nose to the grindstone and I’m finding SOMETHING to write about, even if it’s just this blog post that attempts to focus my own perspective on things.


;)

WHAT'S AT THE FAR END?