Sunday, 20 April 2014
Saturday, 15 February 2014
Deleted Scene
There are no such things as heroes or villains in this world, his
father had once told him. Just people. Tony realises this is true as he
watches the smoke, watches as it rises upon its haunches like some
terrible thing about to swallow him whole, watches as it rubs its
grey-wolf muzzle against the windowpane.
Spidey isn’t going to come crashing through that glass to save him. Superman isn’t going to appear either, blowing out the flames as if they were nothing more than candles on a birthday cake.
His heroes don’t exist anymore; they’ve died in his head.
No, if Tony wants to escape—if he wants to fucking live—it’s up to him. Only him.
Twelve-year-old and here he is making life-or-death decisions. Tony’s brain is transmitting his father’s voice again, telling him to run for all his miserable little hide is worth, but Tony’s feet have fused with the floor.
The heat is building up, and Tony wishes that Gregory was here. Gregory would know what to do because he knows just about everything.
Then again, it’s not like he cares about Tony anymore.
It’s not like anyone does.
The smoke is making Tony’s eyes sting and water so he closes them as he fumbles about, trying to find something—anything—to smash the tiny, too-high-up window. And then he hears something: a distinct thudda-thud, thudda-thud. For a second he thinks it’s his heart, thumping so fast that it’s going to come bursting right out of his chest. But then he realises that it’s just the rag-and-bone man, the village’s very own bogeyman.
Tony opens his eyes a fraction and sees this grimy, desperate figure pounding on the door of the cabin, trying to get out. It’s in this moment that Tony sees the rag-and-bone man for what he truly is: human.
Maybe that’s the most frightening thing of all.
The rag-and-bone man starts to scream. Tony can smell something through the smoke now, something akin to burning hair.
And just when he thinks it’s all over—just when Tony can imagine his skin sizzling and his insides boiling and spitting like a pot of soup—a set of thick fingers form around his wrist and he’s pulled to the ground and dragged forward.
Fresh air. Fresh air rushes towards him and Tony gulps it down greedily, choking on it. And then he weeps, burying his face against the ground, trying to stifle the sobs. He’s dimly aware of the heat, the crackle of the fire behind him, the groans as the bones of the building give way, collapsing in upon itself.
Wiping away the tears with the sleeve of his costume, Tony looks up. The other boys are standing around him, Halloween masks in hand. Tony shouldn’t worry about crying; they’re all watching the cabin burn, flames flickering in their wide eyes, faces devoid of everything apart from shock. Tony is about to say something and then he feels a hand on his shoulder.
Morris.
His face is blackened and his hair and clothes are singed. He smiles a little, says something which Tony doesn’t make out. But Tony nods feverishly all the same, not giving a shit about the tears now falling freely down his cheeks.
Maybe heroes do exist.
Spidey isn’t going to come crashing through that glass to save him. Superman isn’t going to appear either, blowing out the flames as if they were nothing more than candles on a birthday cake.
His heroes don’t exist anymore; they’ve died in his head.
No, if Tony wants to escape—if he wants to fucking live—it’s up to him. Only him.
Twelve-year-old and here he is making life-or-death decisions. Tony’s brain is transmitting his father’s voice again, telling him to run for all his miserable little hide is worth, but Tony’s feet have fused with the floor.
The heat is building up, and Tony wishes that Gregory was here. Gregory would know what to do because he knows just about everything.
Then again, it’s not like he cares about Tony anymore.
It’s not like anyone does.
The smoke is making Tony’s eyes sting and water so he closes them as he fumbles about, trying to find something—anything—to smash the tiny, too-high-up window. And then he hears something: a distinct thudda-thud, thudda-thud. For a second he thinks it’s his heart, thumping so fast that it’s going to come bursting right out of his chest. But then he realises that it’s just the rag-and-bone man, the village’s very own bogeyman.
Tony opens his eyes a fraction and sees this grimy, desperate figure pounding on the door of the cabin, trying to get out. It’s in this moment that Tony sees the rag-and-bone man for what he truly is: human.
Maybe that’s the most frightening thing of all.
The rag-and-bone man starts to scream. Tony can smell something through the smoke now, something akin to burning hair.
And just when he thinks it’s all over—just when Tony can imagine his skin sizzling and his insides boiling and spitting like a pot of soup—a set of thick fingers form around his wrist and he’s pulled to the ground and dragged forward.
Fresh air. Fresh air rushes towards him and Tony gulps it down greedily, choking on it. And then he weeps, burying his face against the ground, trying to stifle the sobs. He’s dimly aware of the heat, the crackle of the fire behind him, the groans as the bones of the building give way, collapsing in upon itself.
Wiping away the tears with the sleeve of his costume, Tony looks up. The other boys are standing around him, Halloween masks in hand. Tony shouldn’t worry about crying; they’re all watching the cabin burn, flames flickering in their wide eyes, faces devoid of everything apart from shock. Tony is about to say something and then he feels a hand on his shoulder.
Morris.
His face is blackened and his hair and clothes are singed. He smiles a little, says something which Tony doesn’t make out. But Tony nods feverishly all the same, not giving a shit about the tears now falling freely down his cheeks.
Maybe heroes do exist.
Monday, 13 January 2014
100+ Websites to Promote Your Kindle Book When it's Free
So, here it is fellow would-be authors. The master list of websites to use for those pesky promotional days. As the post states, these are just the websites. A comprehensive list of Facebook pages and Twitter hashtags will likely follow.
In Advance:
Author Marketing Club
Appnewser - Send your pitch to be their "Free eBook of the Day".
Armadillo EBooks
Awesome Gang
Bargain Ebook Hunter
Best EBooks Free
Book Angel
Book Blast
Book Bub
Book Canyon
Book Deal Hunter
Books Direct
Book Goodies
Book Gorilla
Book Hostage
Bookly Books
Book Freebies
Book Praiser
Christian Book Readers
Content Mo
Digital Book Today
Digital Ink Spot, The
EBook Bargains UK
EBook Blitz
EBook Booster
EBook Deal of the Day
EBooks Grow on Trees
EBook Lister
Ebooks Free Daily
Ebooks Habit
EBook of the Day UK
Efiction Finds
Ereader Cafe, The
Ereader IQ
Ereader Utopia
Ereader Perks
Erotica Everyday
EBook Spice
FK Books and Tips
Flurries of Words
Free and Discounted Books
Free Booksy
Free Books
Free Books Blog
Free Books Daily
Free Book Dude
Free Book Feed
Free Books Hub
Free Days Database
Free Digital Reads
Free EBooks
Free EBooks for Me
Free Erotica Dude
Free Read Feed
Free Kindle Books
Frugal Freebies
Gospel EBooks
Great Books, Great Deals
I Love EBooks
Ignite Your Book
Indie Author Land
Indie Book of the Day
Indie Book Promo
Indie House Books
Indies Unlimited
It's Write Now
Just Kindle Books
Jungle Deals and Steals
Kindle Book Review, The
Kindle Book Promo
Lovely Books
Momma Says Read
One Hundred Free Books
Online PR News
Orangeberry Book Tours
People Reads
Pixel of Ink
Pixel Scroll
Pretty-Hot
Read Cheaply
Slashed Reads
StoryFinds
That Book Place
Wanton Reads
Your Daily EBooks
Zwoodle Books
On the day:
Addicted to EBooks
Book Pinning
Canadian Free Stuff
Deal Seeking Mom
Free Book Club
Freebies for Mom
Free Stuff Times
FORUM - Smart Canucks
FORUM - World Literary Cafe
Hunt for Freebies
I Crave Freebies
Just Free Stuff
Korner Konnection
Magic Freebies UK
Penny Pinchin' Mom
Pin Your Book
Snicks List
Thursday, 9 January 2014
Book Review: A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to Heaven by Corey Taylor
As
the Grammy Award-winning vocalist and lyricist of shock-rock bands Slipknot and
Stone Sour, it’s easy to envision Corey Taylor as a gruff, take-no-bullshit
kind of dude. But did you know he’s also an ardent ghost hunter?
Touted
as The Great Mouth’s intimate walk with the paranormal, A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to Heaven is a slippery bastard of
a book to pigeonhole. Those seeking a continuation of best-selling memoir Seven Deadly Sins may find themselves
disappointed; there’s barely a whisper of the industry’s sinister underbelly throughout
the two-hundred and odd pages.
No, what we’ve got here is a biography of sorts, but it’s stuffed with campfire tales of
ghosts and dilapidated buildings, ruminations on quasi-science and off-the-wall
philosophical discussions. Taylor is bold in his assertions of course, but isn’t
afraid to challenge his own convictions either: if he doesn’t have faith in the
existence of God how can he possibly believe in ghosts? Simply put, he’s seen
spooks but has yet to see Jesus.
It’s
thought-provoking stuff. However, those expecting a book bursting with recounts
of chilling ghost hunts may also feel dissatisfied. Taylor is one hell of a
writer, but has a habit of cockblocking his own arguments with an incessant
need to digress with an anecdote. As a result, the book often feels directionless
and certainly loses steam towards the end, which is a crying shame. But it has
to be said that Taylor’s meanderings often appear like a way to distract the
reader from what would otherwise be a very meager read. It’s something our host
seems painfully aware of, at one point stating he requires another ghostly
experience to finish the book.
3/5
See Corey Taylor read a segment of A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to Heaven:
Wednesday, 8 January 2014
Paranormal Activity: The Marked Ones Review
It would be far too easy to slate Paranormal Activity: The Marked Ones. The fifth entry in the found-footage franchise, early reviews are saturated with snide rhetoric: “Why wouldn’t you turn off the spotlight on your camera when attempting to hide from a coven of bug-eyed witches?” Answer: climb down off your pedestal, join the rest of us mere mortals and stop being such a smart-arsed git. Look, we all know horror movie franchises aren’t likely to showcase glowing signs of human intellect. You ain’t going to get a cookie for pointing it out, Einstein. Sometimes there is absolutely nothing wrong with disengaging your brain and enjoying a film simply for shits and giggles.
More of a spin-off rather than a direct sequel, Marked Ones follows loveable goofballs Jessie (Andrew Jacobs) and Hector (Jorge Diaz) who stumble into a world of witchcraft and demonic forces when they break into the apartment of weirdo Anna, a neighbour who was murdered by a seemingly straight-laced classmate of theirs. The following morning sees Jessie displaying a bite mark of the non-kinky variety (i.e. demonic) and discovering he has a whole set of cool new abilities, which are not entirely unlike the kids from Chronicle. Watch as he channels his inner Thor, beating the seven shades of shit out of overgrown thugs within the blink of an eye!
You’d almost be forgiven for mistaking this as a superhero origin tale, but it isn’t long before Jessie’s powers take a darker turn and he’s seen torturing the family dog and generally being an odious little whelp to his superstitious gran (who almost threatens to steal the show with an egg-based exorcism). Amid Jackass-style tricks and frat boy humour, it’s up to Hector to save the day. Cue the climax, which is essentially witches and the demonically possessed verses a couple of gun-totting badasses. Naturally, the perpetually confused Hector is armed only with good intentions and a camcorder. Add a befuddling element of time travel to the mix (yes, really) and you’ve got an entry very much embedded in the realm of fantasy-horror.
While Oren Peli’s original Paranormal Activity had audiences gripped by lengthy static camera shots, building something as humdrum as a light flicker into a pant-wetting event, Christopher Landon sees the Marked Ones go for more obvious scares and achieves mixed results. Sometimes less is more, you know?
Switching the setting from white suburbia to the gritty streets of a Latino community, Marked Ones could have very well worked as a stand-alone film. However, frequent nods to earlier instalments—which may appeal to long-term fans but leave first-timers experiencing a disorientation that’s got bugger all to do with the shaky camerawork—cuts this idea short. By no means the best of the series, it’s a vast improvement on part four. But new viewers beware: the only way you’re going to get sense of that ending is to watch the series from scratch.
2.5/5
Thursday, 24 October 2013
Update
Currently having a facelift. The blog, I mean. Not me.
For information about The Fragile Things, check out www.welcometoblackcross.com
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)