In 1990, I picked up a book by a writer named Robert Jordan, who was mainly known among fans of fantasy for the Conan novels he penned, which were among my favorites at the time. I bought it without a moment's hesitation and loved it. The Eye of the World followed the classic formula high fantasy had been treading since Tolkien wrote of hobbits leaving the Shire with Nazgul in pursuit.
Getting to the end of the book and realizing it was the first in the series was icing on the cake of a thrilling, fast paced fantasy read. I couldn't wait for what I assumed would be the conclusion, the third book in the series. After all, nearly all high fantasy before the 90's were trilogies.
Alas, Book 3 did not wrap up the story, and in a pre-Internet world, I had no way of knowing that Jordan intended for 12 books. By the time book 6 came out, I was tired of waiting for closure.
So I got stuck at book seven for several years. Last year, I began listening to Book 7, sure that I'd be using it to augment my actual reading of the book. I'm not sure I've picked up a Jordan novel since. But I am about to begin Book 11. And I'm looking forward to the posthumous collaboration of Jordan with Brandon Sanderson. So, to all those who have given up on Jordan, and wished they hadn't, or to those who are thinking about starting but have heard too many negative reviews, here's how I recommend reading Robert Jordan's "Wheel of Time" series.
1. Understand that Jordan loves detail. He describes clothing in so much detail, that if "Wheel of Time" ever gets optioned for film or television, the costume designers will be able to go for a lot of coffee breaks. He is fond of giving elaborately detailed descriptions of every character, even minor ones.
2. The repetition of previously established plot elements in subsequent books is for people traveling on planes who pick up book 5 in the airport. It allows them to enter the world enough to get through the read. It's a device publishing companies use with bestselling series like this to ensure that the series remain a bestseller. While I have never started any series mid-way through, some people apparently do, and these passages are for them.
3. Jordan likes to weave intricate plots with a cast of characters so large it necessitates a glossary at the end of each book. Many of the books are entirely character based, and so seem to have "no action" taking place. This is because many readers want someone to storm a tower, engage in a climactic battle, or throw a ring into a fiery pit. Jordan is too busy marrying characters or introducing a new plot thread to bother with such things. And while he may not talk about a character for one book, he almost always returns to them.
4. I started thinking about "Wheel of Time" as a television series. It's long enough to sustain several seasons, and the cast is basically the OC meets LOTR. We watch TV one episode at a time. I began to view the chapters in each book as "episodes" of "Wheel of Time" as a television series, and each book as a "season." I don't like every episode of "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" and there are some seasons I like better than others. Some of my favorite episodes are in my least favorite seasons. But I love the characters, and I want to see what happens to them. I love the characters in Wheel of Time. I want to see what happens to them. So I keep "tuning in."
5. I got over the reasons I quit. Simply put, they were my reasons. I had expectations of Jordan he never intended to fulfill. I expected him to wrap it up in a trilogy. He didn't. I expected him to snap Rand out of his sullen funk. He didn't. I expected him to stop telling me about the embroidery on coats or dresses. He didn't. I expected him to bring a certain major character back from the dead. He didn't. And finally, I expected him to finish before he passed away. And he didn't.
It was that last one that really galvanized me. When I heard he had terminal cancer (many years after it was a reality), it got me thinking about the legacy the man would leave on this earth. An epic bestselling fantasy series. And I realized that, to quote Elvis and Sinatra, he'd done it his way. I might not like some of the choices Jordan made, but I love the world he created and the people walking through it. And I want to know how they fare in the end.
So that's my journey to Book 11 of "Wheel of Time" and I share it because I want new readers to know what to expect, but also to let go of those expectations, and know that the journey is worth taking. Especially if you want to be there when the final novel is released next year.
Me? I'll be starting book 1 again this fall and listening to all the previous "Seasons" of "Wheel of Time," one per month, in anticipation of the final installment. The Wheel of Time turns...and I'll be "turning pages" with it.

Dan Simmon's "The Terror" is to the Franklin Expedition what "Pan's Labyrinth" is to Franco's Spain. That is to say, the book is as much a mix of history, horror and fantasy as Del Toro's film is, and achieves this pastiche with an equal level of success. The premise is simple; Simmons imagines the doomed expedition, trapped not only by the elements of the Arctic, but by something more elemental, a physical monstrosity which is killing the men off. I have likened it to John Carpenter's The Thing, but with Kurt Russell in the role of Captain Francis Crozier of the H.M.S. Terror, a role Russell would be sufficiently aged enough to play at present. I'm not implying the "thing on the ice" is an alien. I'm not going to say anymore about the nature of the beast, and have betrayed no spoilers in revealing its presence in the book. The book's jacket liner will tell you as much, and the first chapter makes several references to its presence and malevolent nature. I will warn you that you'll need to read the whole book to find out exactly what "it" is, and that many might find the journey too long and arduous, although I'm of the opinion that this was Dan Simmon's intention.

In truth, the monster is an interesting sideline to the story, but Simmons is thoroughly concerned with his cast of historical characters, especially Crozier, and the reason for turning the pages is the growth and development of the men of the Expedition, not the unraveling of the mystery surrounding the monster's identity, though that certainly makes for an enticing motivator. As with "Pan's Labyrinth," the most monstrous actions are done on the part of the humans, and the historical facts of cannibalism on the expedition, when they finally rear their ugly head, outstrip the fantastical "terror" by far.

Simmons has a deft hand when it comes to explicating historical information within the action of a page-turning scene. He is far more fond of showing us than telling us, and passages that would have been dry exposition in the hands of a lesser word-smith are rendered page-turners, as is especially the case with a surgery late in the book. Ultimately though, Simmons is about the men within this historical setting. The book is historical insofar as it appears thoroughly researched and meticulously crafted to produce verisimilitude. It is horror insofar as it produces fear, employing all the means Stephen King laid out in "Danse Macabre" for evoking horror, even the last resort, the "gross-out." It is fantasy insofar as it deals with the supernatural, or at the very least the possibility thereof. And additionally, it is philosophical, pondering the question of whether or not Hobbes was right in his "Leviathan" when he claimed that life is poor, nasty, brutish, and short. The interplay between the historical and the fantastic hold that question in tension until the very last page of the book, and possibly beyond, leaving the reader to ponder how they themselves are stuck in the ice, trapped in a cold, violent world which seeks to devour them.

I'm not really sure I should be calling this a review, as it's really more of a rant. However, a "rant" for The Mist will not attract search engines, and I would like to warn as many people as I can that no matter how happy you are when you start watching it, by the time you're done, you'll wish you'd rented something really cheery, like Pink Floyd: the Wall or 8mm.

Before I move on, I have to say that I love the movie. I read the novella when I was in my teens, then again in my twenties. I have a great appreciation for the Lovecraftian monstrosities, which are realized in the film to superb effect. I like being scared. I like monster movies. And I loved The Mist. I just hated the ending.

Hated it. Loathed it. There isn't a word in English for the contempt I feel for it.

It's different from the book. But that isn't what bothers me. I can deal with adaptation. I forgave the changes made to I Am Legend because they worked for the film in a way a literal adaptation of Matheson's novel might not have. It bothers me, because it's utterly hopeless. In fact, the last chapter on the DVD before the credits is aptly named "Hopelessness." (The hopeless ending isn't necessarily a bad thing. I've seen films where it worked. The reason it doesn't work with The Mist is that there's no way in hell the main character played by Thomas Jane would have made the choice he did. He retains hope throughout the film, even when others lose it. So for him to lose hope right before his hope would be rewarded was like a kick in the nuts. It was cheap, and unoriginal. I said it about Silent Hill, and it still holds true. There's nothing original about bleak endings anymore, especially in horror films. Wanna be really original and subversive? Find a way for a happy ending to work in a horror movie. Another recent Stephen King adaptation, 1408 did. And, interestingly, so did John Carpenter when he made The Fog). I wish I'd known how crappy I'd feel after watching it. Which is why I'm warning you all.

It made me want to walk into the Blockbuster I rented it from and say, "This DVD doesn't work for me."

Of course they'd reply, "Well, we'll rent you another copy."

"I'm pretty sure that one won't work for me either," I'd say.

"How do you know? Did it skip?"

"Actually, if it had skipped, at say, 1:46:43, that would have been awesome."

"Well, we can rent you another copy."

"Does it have a different ending?"

Now I know, someone is out there saying, "You can't give a movie a poor rating just because you didn't like the ending!" And that's where you'd be wrong.

Watching a movie where the ending is utterly hopeless is a lot like going for a fantastically sumptuous meal, where the appetizer does what it should; it's not too large a portion, and it whets your appetite for the main course. The main course comes, and it's just as good as you hoped it would be. Your mouth waters with every bite. You sit, looking at the love of your life across the table, and comment on how incredible the food is, and how glad you are to share it with each other. Finally, the waiter comes to ask if you'd like to see the dessert menu, and you decide to share a decadent creation. As you wait for the waiter to return, you stare into each other's eyes and sip wine of a excellent vintage. The waiter returns, your anticipation mounts, and then he places an empty bowl on the table.

And takes a dump in it.

It's bad enough you're closing off the night with a bowl with a fresh steaming turd in it, but now you're wondering about the soup...did the waiter do something to it? What other abominations did you ingest over the evening?

A bad ending makes the whole film crummy. It's the last taste we leave with in our mouths, or brains, or whatever. After The Mist, I needed to cleanse my palette in the worst way possible. I'm not alone in my estimation that the ending ruined the experience. Ty Burr of the Boston Globe said the following: (Spoilers Ahead!!)

"Then, as if to underscore that he's above such silly things as sci-fi and horror, Darabont throws his curveball of an ending. (OK, last chance. Exit's that way. Abandon hope all ye who enter here.) Having escaped with three others, David and little Billy drive through the mist until their car runs out of gas. Around them are the shrieks of horrible things ready to pounce and rend. The five humans have a gun with four bullets; David does what he must and exits the car alone to await his fate. Two minutes later the army shows up. Bum-mer.

I don't think you have to be a parent to hate a movie that ends with the kid getting shot in the head by his dad. As a favor. And just think: All they had to do was turn on the car radio.

Someone must think such a finale is dark and daringly tragic and uncomfortable and cool. Someone is wrong. "The Mist" doesn't provoke further thought; it provokes active annoyance at being punished in the service of a pulp morality tale with pretensions. Even Hitchcock knew that: When he blew up the little boy in the bus in 1936's "Sabotage," he ended up having to issue a public apology. And Darabont, need I say it, is no Hitchcock."

Chuck Wilson of the Village Voice had this to say: "All this would be disappointing, but not infuriating, if the film's ending weren't so unforgivably bad ... which is so distasteful and untrue to all that's come before it as to be a slap in the face to characters and audience alike. The last word in King's story was "hope," and while Darabont certainly has the right to head in the opposite direction—in our own monster-filled world, happy endings are harder than ever to buy—he does so in a manner that's both pretentious and cruel. The Mist made me want to scream, but for all the wrong reasons."

Writer/Director Frank Darabont, has been responsible for adapting two of King's works into film with the greatest success accorded any filmmaker who has undertaken the task. We all loved The Shawshank Redemption Frank. You know why? You didn't change the ending. We all loved The Green Mile Frank, and you know why? You didn't CHANGE the ENDING. It's a little ironic, because you mention in the commentary at the end of the film that the composer was humble enough to "get out of the way" and allow you to use a Dead Can Dance song. He didn't think he was better than Lisa Gerrard. He knew a master musician when he heard one. Maybe you should have done the same. Stephen King isn't the bestselling writer in America because he makes stupid choices. He ended The Mist the way he did for a reason. You should have done the same.

A superb Neo-Victorian speculative work of alternate history, which tackles issues of war and peace, nationalism, manifest destiny, and the veneration of History. The book is appropriately slow paced, being the memoir of Sir Robert Mayfair Bruce, who writes of the ascension to power of the 'new world's greatest hero' Lord Fitzpatrick. Bruce's story (and particularly that of his family) answers the question many people have in the face of great historical change, asking "what can one person do to change anything?" Combining steampunk elements, fictional intertextuality, and poignant moments of human emotion and grace, Theodore Judson has created a book that, while easy to put down, continues to beckon the reader to pick it back up. Highly recommended.

I took a course in my undergraduate literary studies called "Fantastic Literature". The reading list for this course included Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, Bram Stoker's Dracula, H.P. Lovecraft's Dunwich Horror, and a long list of gothic tales, magic realism, and horror. It remains my favorite course taken.

Ever.

Reading Baltimore, or, The Steadfast Tin Soldier and the Vampire, a gift I found in my stocking Christmas morning brought back memories of that class. It is the story of Captain Henry Baltimore, who grapples with a vampire on the field of battle during World War I, an encounter which costs him his leg, and ultimately, everything he holds dear. His quest to destroy the vampire is the story, but it is the way in which it is told which makes the book brilliant. I can't say original ; it's more a hybrid homage, a pastiche of Victor Frankenstein's obsessive pursuit of his creation, of the vampire hunters who stalk Dracula, and Lovecraft's Shadow over Innsmouth, with poetic prose references to Andersen's fairy tale. It is told almost entirely in the first person, a key element of most fantastic literature, since it hinges on what Todorov calls "the moment of hesitation," or the idea that the story might not have happened, save in the twisted minds of the characters inhabiting the narrative.

The book has been marketed as a graphic novel, which it is not. It is an illustrated novel; Author/Illustrator Mike Mignola's images are only occasionally direct representations of the action happening in the narrative. Most of the time they are primarily evocative of a mood both Mignola and his co-writer Christopher Golden want to sustain throughout. The pictures help, but unlike Mignola's work on Hellboy, they are a pale reflection of the text, which is brilliant. The opening scenes upon the battlefield are juxtaposed with Baltimore's fevered recollections of playing with his tin soldiers as a boy; instead of resorting to lurid gory detail describing the massacre of Baltimore's platoon, Mignola and Golden utilize Andersen's fairy tale imagery to connote the deaths. The bodies piled in the trenches are compared to the soldiers being returned to the box.

If you are a fan of any of the books I have already mentioned, this book is a must read for you. And for the record, I've decided that if I ever teach a course in "Fantastic Literature", Baltimore will be on the required reading list.

Not Pratchett's funniest or best Discworld novel, but when considered against other possible holiday reads, especially within the fantasy genre, this one's a gem. I read it in December of 2007 as a placebo for not being able to see the film version made in the UK. The plot is simple; the Hogfather, Discworld's equivalent to Santa, has gone missing, and the hilariously deadpan Death has decided to take his place on Hogswatch night. Highly recommended if you're looking for something festive and are a fan of fantasy, British humor, Douglas Adams, or Christopher Moore. As with most of Pratchett's Discworld books, no prior knowledge of the other books in the series is necessary; it helps enrich, but does not hinder enjoyment.

I don't know if there's really any point to reviewing the later installments of the Wheel of Time series. By the time you've reached this book, you've either made my peace with Jordan's writing style, or you're an idiot for thinking he'll change it. I've made my peace with it, by listening to the series on audiobook rather than reading it. To each their own, but its made all the difference in the world for me. I listen to the story daily on my commute or while shoveling the walk, or mowing the lawn (depending on the season) and it's a bit like watching a TV series, which is what I liken WOT to anyhow. Each book is like a season, and I found myself captivated by most of the episodes in this 'season' in the epic series. I missed Mat, but I think keeping his fate a secret heightened suspense. The pacing was excellent - a good mix of action pieces and character development. You can really tell when Jordan's reached an action moment. The detailed descriptions disappear and events unfold rapidly. A worthy addition to the series.

A gourmet blend of solid storytelling, great voice acting, and some of the best computer animated visuals I've ever seen, which is as much a culinary delight for the eyes as the entrees made by Remy the rat are for the taste buds of Paris gourmands. Another hit from Brad Bird and his crew--this is why Pixar is top of the heap in animation these days, and why Dreamworks is just...dreaming.

The 2006 version of Charlotte's Web is a very able live-action reworking of E.B. White's tale of the deep relationship between a pig, destined to die as Christmas ham, and the spider who saves him, ironically resulting in the very fate she hoped to save the pig from. Julia Roberts' voice is well suited to Charlotte's demeanor, and most of the star studded voice casting is excellent. Comparisons to Babe are ridiculous, considering that Wilbur has seniority as the talking pig in children's literature. Refreshingly squeaky clean amidst all the sneaky innuendo I find in too many children's movies these days. A good family film, recommended.

A surprisingly good film, given that Disney's sequels tend towards the lowest common denominator to make the quickest buck. Unlike many of the Pooh spin offs, this one still resonates with A.A. Milne's sensibilities (and even a few passing dialogue ...(read morereferences to the original stories), and Kyle Stanger is utterly charming as Lumpy the Heffalump's voice. The downside is Carly Simon's original songs, which sometimes feel out of place in the Hundred Acre Wood. Overall a great film for the young and young at heart.