Originally posted on James Cormier:
There was a time, long before iPhones, long before the Internet, prior even to the advent of the DVD and stadium seating in movie theaters, when fantasy movies were not the big budget blockbusters they are today. Before Peter Jackson was ordained from on high to grace us with a (relatively) faithful, three-film adaptation of The Lord of the Rings, fantasy as a genre in Hollywood was pretty dead. The 1990s in particular was a drought of fantasy so extreme that people did crazy things, like listen to Limp Bizkit and dance the Macarena (Wikipedia those if you have questions). There weren’t even any good B movies; the fantasy movie-going public were left with pitiful…
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The moon is fat and shines so bright in the middle of the night.
It only happens once a month, but its still a thrill to see, it holds much to fear because of mystery
My to read list is huge on Goodreads.com, and I have one book left from the library that I must read before the 4th of July, it hasn’t been read thoroughly yet because I tend to borrow the maximum each time I visit the library, note bibliophile present. The last book I have from the library that’s half read at present is “H.P Lovecraft’s book of horror” an anthology of 21 classic short horror stories which includes with my personal rating;
Supernatural horror in literature essay/introduction by H.P Lovecraft 9/10
The signalman by Charles Dickens 8/10
The house and the brain by Edward Bulwer-Lytton 8/10
The body snatcher by Robert Louis-Stevenson 2/10 (low rating yes, shock horror)
The spider by Hanns Heinz Ewers 10/10
The foot of the mummy by Theophile Gautier 9/10
The horla by Guy De Maupassant 8/10
The rest have yet to be read and they will include;
The fall of the house of Usher by Edgar Allan Poe
The dammed thing by Ambrose Bierce
The upper berth by F. Marion Crawford
The yellow sign by Robert W. Chambers
The shadows on the wall by Mary E. Wilkins-Freeman
The dead valley by Ralph Adams Cram
Fish head by Irvin S. Cobb
Lukundoo by Edward Lucas White
The double shadow by Clark Ashton Smith
The mark of the beast by Rudyard Kipling
Negotium Perambulans by E.F Benson
Mrs. Lunt by Hugh Walpole
The Hog by William Hope Hodgson
The great god Pan by Arthur Machen
Count Magnus by M.R James
Followed by the afterword by Lovecraft and the literature of cosmic fear:
Yesterday I finished Coraline by Neil Gaiman and other stories. Which were very compelling reads and I am what a readers quiz calls a polygamous reader, therefore I started reading H.P Lovecraft’s anthology before Coraline’s anthology, but I was so much more taken with Neil Gaiman than I was with H.P Lovecraft’s compilation, that I literally abandoned H.P Lovecraft until there was no more Neil Gaiman to read.
If I am having a good day with my health on the days I visit my work advisor I usually treat myself to a book or three at the local charity shops on the way home, it’s a habit I can’t get out of; unfortunately yesterday there were quite a few I liked, in fact, I would have by choice bought home five books, but I only had enough money for two. The ones I found and bought home were books three and four of the Eragon series (the inheritance cycle) by Christopher Paolini. I have never watched the movie Eragon and nor have I ever read the books. I had the first two books at home, never read and abandoned on the shelves until I could get the complete set and now I have them I am thrilled. Unfortunately, knowing me, it will probably be 3+ months before I start reading them, because I am currently reading 26 books according to my goodreads.com currently reading list.
That doesn’t need to get any longer does it? I am I have to start on the fifth to fourteenth book of the Wizard of Oz series before I can think of moving onto another series, also I have the last book of the Fifty Shades of Grey to read as well.
Oh the life of a bibliophile is far too short!
It’s stupid to think that I get through an average of 1 to 4 books a week and that my “to read” list is currently 4647 and that expands by no less than 20 books per week. It’s ridiculous, even if I was immortal and glued my arse to a chair and read 24/7 I would never ever catch up in reading unless there was a total ban for thousands of years of new material being published!
I hope in the future there will be a little chip inside people’s brains where you can download information immediately by the press of a button; I would opt to be a literary and historical know-all and I would also want to be proficient in all creative mediums and telepathy.
I get huge bouts of depression because I can’t do more than one thing at once. I want to read, but I have to go through a painstaking process of choosing which book gets my attention at that precise moment; but then I want to paint or write and I am sitting back thinking, well one things has to be put on hold, which will it be? What shall I do? I have so many things to write about and so many ideas, that I can never knuckle down and write them, because as I am writing I am being flooded with too much future work, that I surrender and do nothing.
I don’t suffer from writers block, I suffer from writers flood and because of that, I don’t write a majority of the time. Because it sends me mad, I write gibberish and I lack focus, because I think as I concentrate on other things, many things at once.
You can probably see this problem in my updates here.
I am a huge fantasy fan, but I don’t know much of the most commonly known fantasy books and movies because I refrain from watching or reading them if they’re popular, because they normally end up being frustrating commercialised entities that are constantly pushing out new material every few months. When I sit down to read a book and it’s a series, I like to think I have the whole series ready on my shelves before I start. If there are more books in that series coming out months later, it infuriates me, because I don’t always remember what happened in the books in great details and I do not like re-reading books if I can absolutely help it; (too many books and so little time).
The books I have not read and the movies I have not watched so far, that are popular in fantasy and family genres.
Eragon series books and movies
How to train your dragon books and movies?
The books after Harry Potter’s Goblet of Fire haven’t been read yet
The movies past Harry Potter’s order of the phoenix
Once upon a time TV series
Supernatural TV series
The lion the witch and the wardrobe book
Final fantasy games
World of Warcraft games
Game of thrones TV series and books
Blood ties TV series
Twilight movie and books
True blood TV series and books
Nanny McPhee and the big bang
The Terminator movies
So as you can see, I have not watch nor read the biggies; but I do know a lot of fantasy that gets people scratching their heads at me and wondering what the hell I am talking about.
The Gor series of books
Diary of a wimpy vampire books
The Sandman comics by Neil Gaiman (though they are becoming popular)
The weirdstone of Brisingamen by Alan Garner
The play your own adventure books and fighting fantasies of Ian Livingstone and Steve Jackson
Nightmare TV series
Raven TV series
Highlander TV series
The fact there are 14 stories of OZ from the Wizard of OZ and that nobody knows the world completely, that is a complete bafflement for many
The Deptford mice books
Troll movie 1986
The Disney movie – the gnome mobile
Shirley Temple’s movie – the blue bird
Angels in America movie
Dogma the movie
So, go feast yourself on these so-called unheard of books and movies.
In the depths of blackness I hear the cries of creatures drowning in their own sorrows of the thick dark night.
Souls wretched and souls bereaved, crying out to the night for love and release.
The fires of torture burn through their brains, in an agonizing heat wave how can they be saved?
Swimming through the whiny larvae of their new found home, sinking floating, choking on volcanic foam.
Tortured souls how can they be released?
How can they suffer anymore than this? For what is the purpose, isn’t this insane?
To see tortured victims burn up in the flames?
Troll Bridge by Neil Gaiman
Reading about trolls since childhood has always made me a little nervous, because of the childhood nightmares I had about bridges and what lived under them – this story was read with reluctance, but I am proud that I read it because it was a wonderful tale.
I loved the twist of why the troll existed and how it is trapped in its magical world and had literally little choice in devouring lone stray children nearby its lair and how it can be freed if he found someone willing to help him – little would be willing to help him so they usually succumbed to a terrifying fate.
I love worlds like this, where monsters aren’t really as monstrous as they seem, that they too have lived through something terrifying and aren’t what they seem. Though it is easy to sympathise with the troll in this story it is still a terrifying creature nonetheless.
Eat strawberries mixed inside a jam
Ready for hot buttered toast
Or eaten at Wimbledon with some cream
Whilst the tennis matches you are engrossed in!
Apples are red, strawberries are too
I’m round and fat and ripe for you!
I’m crunchy and sweet and ready to eat!
So come on and try me, your in for a treat!
In your arms I’m free
In your arms I’ll always be
In your arms I’m free
We have formed an affinity
Brilliant, you must read this if you are a horror fan like me!
Originally posted on Flavorwire:
The air is getting crisper, the nights are getting longer, and All Hallow’s Eve draws near. You know what that means: it’s time to curl up with a book guaranteed to give you the shivers — or at least make you check the locks twice. Here, for your horrifying pleasure, are 50 of the scariest books ever written in the English language, whether horror, nonfiction, or speculative futures you never want to see. One caveat: the list is limited to one book per author, so Stephen King fans will have to expand their horizons a little bit. Check out 50 books that will keep you up all night after the jump, and add any other scary favorites to the list in the comments.
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Glaring lights, pale as death, call you and me.
Dancing through the leaves of the night, dancing around the willows and the oak, hearing the sounds of mysticism in an endless voice of hope:
What is it that we evoke?
Rushing through the air of the night, filling our souls with curious delight; the moon shines upon us as we run after thee, O what can you be? What can you be?
The silver of the night can be what you are or a guiding star? Yes a guiding star!
You took us from our campsite when the air was chilled and harsh – you made us run bare footed across the country grass!
Nightly dew soaks our wandering feet and we search for where you go. Roaming free like a bird in the sky you fly, through the leaves of the trees in the night!
But we remain warm with your charms dear light.
Running endlessly we wonder where you take us. Miles and miles it seems… we run through the fields and past the stream, this feels like a wonderful dream!
Pure is your light of wonder, warm is your glow, but where do you take us, where do you go?
What are you which we evoke?
Faster and faster you run wild and free, past the streams and the tree’s and we run faster along with thee.
We hear a mystical voice again, calling like a choir, calling our names to follow still, even though the night is chilled!
Brighter and faster the light becomes running through the corn. We follow and run helplessly we become most forlorn!
The light has gone! The light has gone!
O where are we now?
As if it was all a dream we suddenly awake from the hypnotising light we are in the lake… we are in the lake.
Drowning, mourning sorrowfully, we cry and call for help. But all that hears our calls this night is the old mythical creature the Kelps!
All we do now is yelp and yelp!!!
I am made of porcelain, porcelain, porcelain. I am made of porcelain and I come, come, come from China. then I came overseas, overseas, overseas, then I came overseas a long, long way from china
The above rhyme was written by me in 1997 for some school-children I was attending during work-experience as a teaching assistant in Colindale, North London.
The first time that I saw you
You took my heart away
You restored my faith in humanity when I was learning to hate
It’s been so long since I felt this way
I thought it could never be
But the first time I saw your face you was the one for me!
You broke away my shadows of all the years I’ve suffered alone
You took my hand and guided me, to a place I never roamed.
Darkness has fallen and the moon arises to light his way from the sky.
Gently he walks in concealment with his dark and sly little eyes.
He tiptoes through the night forest crunching dead leaves underfoot; slowly he crawls like a stealthy, clever, hunting crook.
Sniffing the ground tracking the bait, to see what luck will have him take!
Which meal is he to find today?
Sniffing the paths of many preys!
The scent of live flesh gets stronger now and he eagerly prepares his snare.
There it is, back turned from the wolf, the prey doesn’t know that his there.
Slowly the night hunter creeps behind, ready to pounce and ready to dine.
The wolves jaw snaps round the neck sharp.
Tearing it to pieces without a heart!
Triumphant with his hunt, he calls!
Barking loudly about his Trawl, calling his family to dine with him, the flesh of the victim, it pleases him.
Turn the lights down, and come a little closer,
sit by the fire near me on this humid stormy night, and I will sing you a lullaby of nightmares gleaming bright.
Of vampires and witches and all evil beings.
You will be a feast for all creepy things:
So when you are tired and go up to bed turn off your light, then you will bleed to death!
For all immortals feast on you, because you carry their favorite food.
But do not fear of this ghastly plight, for you too will become like us tonight!
The Spider by Hanns Heinz Ewers
Wonderfully written and not very well known, some people mistake this horror classic for being a rip off of “The Black Widow” which is a different story set in a different scene.
I loved everything about this story, the scene that was set, the history, the events, the magic and the demise of the main protagonist.
A great example of a wonderfully vivid and innovative imagination!
Obviously, as the title states, DO NOT read if you are an arachnophobe as there are some pretty gory and detailed scenes in this story.
Know me and the way I am,
I am the ocean,
I am the sands
I am the sky
I am the birds,
I am the beast
I am all words.
I can love and I can hate,
I can kill and create,
I am something and I am not,
I am cold and I am hot.
I am life and I am death,
I am the wine,
I am the bread.
I am wet and I am dry,
I am the hills,
who am I?..…God!
I am a banana, I live in the Bahamas!
I live up high in a pseudo tree, waiting for somebody to come and pick me!
I am bright and yellow.
But where the picker takes me I just do not yet know!
The eye of God, done in watercolor. I am getting into watercolor art quite a lot lately and this is one of my pieces; I hope to add more art in future, but this is the only thing out of the nine currently finished pieces I have which I could actually get away with calling a fantasy piece.
Some people might call this the eye of Horus or perhaps the eye symbol of the Illuminati and various other secret societies, but whatever you think it is, I hope you like it.
Chivalry by Neil Gaiman
The first short story from the Neil Gaiman anthology “Smoke and Mirrors”, “chivalry” was enchanting in that it bought medieval fairy-tale to the modern world and included as a main character a person who is rarely considered for a main protagonist role in literature – an old lady browsing the shelves of a charity shop for some hidden gem; and what she found was a chalice that had unknowingly to her special links to the knights of the round table. A clever tale of bartering and cunning, knights and old ladies, wishes coming true and a taste of real history all rolled into one, made this story, for me, delightful.