Cursed Objects

Sometimes you need a book you can pick up, set down and come back to without needing to remember who the characters are, let alone a plot. Or a book you can read while half listening to your spouse keeping up a running commentary on whatever show they’re watching. A book fitting this description is a blessing if you are snatching time to read between say checking on the laundry, stuck at the stove or in your car waiting for an appointment to end. The trick is to find one of these books is to haunt the bookstore shelves.

Or in my case, scanning the New Fiction section of a library with a combination of excellent funding and a buying committee likes to mix it up. A few weeks ago, I was at just such a library and stumbled across J.W. Ocker’s Cursed Objects: Strange But True Stories of the World’s Most Infamous Items. I know it seems I stumble across many books but thanks a nasty childhood accident back when Jaws ruled the box office, I’m lame in the old-fashioned sense, walking with a limp best described as “broken Frankenstein’s Monster” and unless I’m paying attention to my surroundings can stumble over my own darn feet before you can say “library book sale”.

There I was, bending over slightly at the waist to scan the new books, when a lovely book bound in black with dull bronze lettering caught my eye. I swear I do not pick books on looks alone but let’s be honest, a well-designed book is going draw the eye. Especially if said book isn’t a standard hardcover size.

Now books in the Dewey Decimal 001 need a second, third and seventh look over because even though like many Generation X people, I grew up with In Search of and Time-Life paranormal books, I am more skeptical. And most Dewey Decimal 001 books tend to lean much more woo than I can tolerate.

Cursed Objects: Strange But True Stories of the World’s Most Infamous Items is not woo. Don’t let the title fool you. Yes, it covers several woo classics (the Hope Diamond, mummy curses, crystal skulls) but there is a strong streak of here’s the story, here’s the truth and enjoy the ride.

Remember me talking about books you can read for a moment and put down? Cursed Objects: Strange But True Stories of the World’s Most Infamous Items passes the test with flying colors. Early morning trip to the laundromat with five loads of laundry-all with different wash/drying times? Reading while waiting for the electric kettle to finish? A quick chapter before bed? All done and dusted. And if you want to read more? The selected bibliography has some solid reading for those willing to track down or expand their minds.

It’s not a book I would recommend to my father (his tastes run more True Life in the Woods Adventures), or the spouse (World Building Fantasy For The Old School D&D crowd). But I would recommend Cursed Objects: Strange But True Stories of the World’s Most Infamous Items to my brother, people who loved the original Nimoy hosted In Search of and fun informative podcasts. You are my people, read this book if you’ve haven’t already.

Now the book design. It’s more important than you think. People’s book dollars are limited. An excellent book in a poorly designed/constructed edition isn’t going to appeal to the eye or wallet. If this doesn’t influence your book buying? Lucky you and obviously I am living my life wrong. Cursed Objects: Strange But True Stories of the World’s Most Infamous Items is a Quirk Books title.

If you are brand new to Quirk Books? They’re an independent publisher who specialize in quirky books. Their titles are informative without talking down to the reader. And their design team? Love love love. One of the reasons Cursed Objects: Strange But True Stories of the World’s Most Infamous Items is such a good book is the design. Crisp but not overpowering colors, fun graphics all around. Combined with J.W. Ocker’s sharp writing? Cursed Objects: Strange But True Stories of the World’s Most Infamous Items should be on your Wish/TBR list. It’s definitely on my To Buy list.

Now to return Cursed Objects: Strange But True Stories of the World’s Most Infamous Items to the library for someone else to enjoy.

The Twisted Ones

A confession.

I love weird fiction but most modern weird fiction leaves me numb. Case in point? I purchased S.T. Joshi’s The Modern Weird Tale (Kindle version on October 10, 2013 according to Amazon) and I don’t think I got more than twenty pages into the darn thing even at the height of my weird tale/Mythos mania. I’m a simple gal who prefers her poorly transcribed public domain Kindle editions and LibriVox audiobooks read in a dull monotone even at the most exciting bits.

Let’s skip forward in time to the present. Yesterday morning in fact. I’m at work looking for something to listen to between jumping up from my desk and racing to see if my printer Maxwell Demon has jammed…again during my largest print job of the day. I’ve been slowly working my way through The Monster She Wrote podcast, picking interesting sounding titles and decide on Episode 27: The Twisted Ones. Modern weird fiction but using Arthur Machen as a springboard? I was hooked.

Being the never has enough money for all the books I want person I am, of course I checked to see if the local library carried The Twisted Ones. Sadly no, but a library about 25 minutes away did have it. Ordinarily I would be putting in a borrow request but checking my phone (I’m always taking screenshots of what libraries have certain books) the library also had another book or seventeen I wanted. Can you say Saturday morning road trip?

Now it’s Saturday night. The spouse is watching YouTube videos and cackling like a damn hyena over the antics of some guy playing Minecraft. I have my cute new laptop out, Barbie pink knockoff iPhone earbuds in listening to Rio era Duran Duran trying to drown out the “hahahahaha” <pause for breath> “hahahahaha” and write this review. Because I finished The Twisted Ones less than thirty minutes ago and I. Have. Thoughts.

First? It’s a darn good thing not all modern weird fiction is as good as The Twisted Ones. Heavens knows I’ve read enough poorly written Lovecraft knock-offs to fill the built-in living room bookcase. Heck, I’ve even written enough dreadful Lovecraft/King/Bloch inspired things to make me hang my head in deep shame and want to share with the world just how awful they are in case anyone is in need of a laugh.

If more writers had T. Kingfisher’s touch with blending my favorite Arthur Machen book The White People with her own interpretation of what happens when you meet the White People then I would be making the local library beg me to stop requesting books from other libraries.

Now for the quick summation of the plot I gave the spouse when my “Yes!” distracted him from YouTube minus all the “do you know who Arthur Machen is? No…do you know who Lovecraft is? No…I don’t care you find Lovecraft too hard to read. Do you know Lovecraft exists? Good…” bits.

A woman named Mouse and her dog go to her late estranged grandmother’s house to clean it out. The house is a hoarder house and weird things are lurking in the woods. And she finds her late step-grandfather’s journal alluding to a Green Book which is actually the Green Book that forms the central story in Arthur Machen’s The White People. And things get….weirder.

Now you don’t need to have read The White People to enjoy The Twisted Ones. You could have never read a single word of weird fiction before (and that’s perfectly okay-there’s huge cultural things I haven’t and never will read) and still pick up The Twisted Ones and have an excellent read.

If you have read The White People? Terrific! You get the joy of figuring out select things before Mouse and you might be my favorite character, the feisty Foxy who has had her adventures and then some in her at least six decades on the Earth. You want Foxy on your side trust me. I would read about a book all about Ms. Foxy’s adventures pre The Twisted Ones. Right after she’s taught me how to walk in high heels without twisting my ankle to bits.

If you haven’t read The White People? You are still going to love The Twisted Ones and you are Mouse. Go get your Bongo a forbidden cheeseburger and then after you’ve finished The Twisted Ones? Lay your hands on The White People, read that and then explore more of T. Kingfisher (government name Ursula Vernon) titles.

The Divines

Last week I was at the library picking up a few books to start off a much needed vacation in the right way when I stumbled across a pale pink tome with an interesting title. The Divines, a debut novel by Ellie Eaton. Gave the inside a peek and British elite girls school and a mystery? Sounded good to me so into my library bag it went.

Perhaps I should have read the blurbs on the back closer or just put it back on the shelf because even though I grabbed The Divines and crawled into bed only intending to read a few pages which became finishing the book at 12:43am, I don’t care for this book. I might be too old for the target audience. I might have been expecting something more Miss Pym Disposes. But I could not connect at all with The Divines.

Remember this is my opinion only. You might pick up The Divines and think Sephine is awesome from dot one. Me? Sephine? Okay…oh the main character is named Josephine, answers to Joe per the traditions of her ancient girls school and goes by Sephine as an adult. If you can wrap your head around this without a deep right down to your toes whole body sigh, please read The Divines. On reflection I find Joe/Sephine an unreliable narrator. And to be very honest a bit of a see you next Tuesday. She’s mopey and whiney on the page, the younger students think she is cruel and mysterious and goals.

So do I like anything about The Divines. As usual I think a side character is oceans more interesting than coming of age/explore her world/entitled Joe/Sephine. Miss Joe/Sephine can sleep with everyone on her friend Lauren’s street right down to the corner shop exploring herself and I don’t care. I DO want to know more about her despised roommate The Poison Dwarf aka Gerry.

What makes Gerry interesting? The other girls at the school are lost Mitfordian posh girls, wannabe Olympia Stanislopolous girls. I grew up with girls schools in books filled with gals who hid pregnancies, mobster fathers, suicide attempts and didn’t bore the pants off me. The Poison Dwarf is more mine kind of girls school character. She’s a champion ice skater, more dedicated to her craft than the inner workings of being a Divine girl. She might be having an affair with her coach or driver. She’s tiny and tough. Her accent isn’t cut glass and I picture her as a Tonya Harding with new money. The other girls hate her. And her kindness to Joe/Sephine is twisted around to harm her. I want her story not Miss I Wear My Father’s Cardigan And Flick My Hair. After all it’s something that happens to Gerry that drives the final nail into the school’s coffin.

Gerry the Poison Dwarf is the thing that kept me reading The Divines. When I was in high school (most certainly not a private school because I wasn’t clever or rich enough), roughly the age of Joe/Sephine and her friends, a new girl came to school. Now my high school served two towns and I had never meet or heard of this new girl but tongues buzzed. The new girl was drop dead gorgeous, a young Vivien Leigh and a working actress with proper credits and even a TV show. The other girls who knew her back in the day weren’t thrilled. She was different, another species of creature inhabiting the halls of our quaint proto Stars Hollow public school. She was our Gerry without the tragedy. She was truly Divine.

Sometimes You Have to Lie: The Life and Times of Louise Fitzhugh, Renegade Author of Harriet the Spy

Like many 1970s kids HARRIET THE SPY was a must read book right up there with Judy Blume. And like Judy Blume’s heroines I was envious of Harriet’s freedom as a NYC city kid vs my stricter Michigan suburban childhood. But I never knew anything about her creator. Thanks to Leslie Brody’s biography of Harriet’s creator Louise Fitzhugh I now know Ms. Fitzhugh was closer in spirit to Patricia Highsmith then the grandmotherly persona I imagined. From a Southern childhood worthy of a Truman Capote character to a character in post World War II New York City, Louise Fitzhugh was true to herself no matter how shocking it might seem. She was a thriving artist who created a book that charmed children and horrified most adults. And she even took a swipe at Kay Thompson’s Eloise with her own Suzuki Beane (and yes I stopped reading to check out Suzuki Beane which is sadly out of print and quite expensive on the second hand market-some quirky hip publisher put Suzuki Beane on your radar for a much needed reissue please). She only left behind a few books compared to her contemporaries Kay Thompson and Dare Wright but unlike those two ladies? Louise Fitzhugh has never stopped charming new generations of children.