Review of Sex Hell


Where do I begin?

This book was ridiculous. But it was ridiculous in an at least somewhat entertaining way. Though I mostly only enjoyed it because I was making fun of it so much.

(Disclaimer: I won a free copy of this book in a Goodreads giveaway.)

The main character, Debbie, has a bad sex life, so she goes to a witch and offers to trade the life force of her potted petunias for incredible orgasms. She ends up cheating on her boyfriend with a sleazy lounge singer, who also traded his pot of petunias (I don’t know why they both had petunias) for great orgasms. The witch tricks them, and they end up in Sex Hell, which is basically a holodeck where they play out various roleplay fantasies while the demon Carl watches. And every time they have sex, the witch gets more powerful.

When they try to get out of Sex Hell, the witch sends her Instant German Assassins after them, but they get melted in a rain storm after trying to kill the wrong people. Then there’s some stuff with a cantaloupe being used as a magic cell phone, a bottle opener working as a magic wand, and Debbie’s boyfriend using his Magic! Bongos! to track her down. Oh, and her boyfriend works for the Confidential Ultra Force, which is basically like the FBI for hunting down witches.

Confused? Yeah. The entire book is silly, the plot makes no sense, and even the sex scenes are boring rather than erotic. There’s no consistency whatsoever in the way magic is used, the characters flip-flop in their personalities and convictions, and the climax involves a dues ex machina where the Instant German Assassins try to kill the witch for no reason other than that the author needed a way to save the main characters.

If you enjoy really bad books because it’s so much fun to poke holes in their plots and make fun of the ridiculousness, then this book could be a good time. I actually did enjoy reading it. That doesn’t make it good, but it meant I had enough fun snarking it like the robots in MST3K that it was an enjoyable experience.


Review of All the King’s-Men by Adam Dreece

All the King's-Men

I’ve been a fan of Adam Dreece’s The Yellow Hoods series since I read the first book, Along Came a Wolf. The series has a fun, upbeat style, with some brilliant kids who get into all kinds of danger and have to use their ingenuity and a variety of unique inventions to survive. The series is labeled as “An Emergent Steampunk Series” because a lot of the steampunk technology we see in the books is brand new, being developed by the characters as the series progresses. It’s very interesting to see so many inventions being unveiled, rather than having a world where such things already exist.

This book focused a lot on a developing conflict where it seems the villains are planning to use their newly developed technology to start conquering less-developed nations. There’s also an interesting subplot where at least one kingdom has an old law that outlaws inventors and innovation, unless the inventors work for the government. This leads to a sort of secret society of inventors who have to keep their works hidden, for fear that they’ll be arrested for developing potentially dangerous technology. A lot of the tale is centered around a group of people trying to keep the plans for a new type of steam engine from falling into the wrong hands.

Compared to the previous books, All the King’s-Men takes on a bit of a darker tone. In Along Came a Wolf, the central main character, Tee, was a preteen girl who got into trouble with some unsavory characters, and she and her friends had to work together to save the day. By the time we reach the third book, the characters are a bit older, their enemies are more dangerous, and there are darker twists and more violence and bloodshed. The stakes are also a lot higher, with a war brewing, assassinations taking place, governments being overthrown, and betrayal around every corner.

The only complaint I have about this volume is that with the expansion of the conflict, it sometimes seems that there are too many characters and too many subplots, which makes it a bit harder to follow a central storyline. There were a few times where I started to mix a couple of characters up, simply because there were so many characters engaged in different branches of the plot. This didn’t detract from the writing style itself, which is quite strong. But it does make it so that All the King’s-Men works best as one bridge in an ongoing series, rather than as a standalone novel. It would definitely be best to pick up the first books in the series before this one, in order to keep up with everything that’s been going on.

You can find the book on Amazon, or through the author’s webpage (where you can also order autographed copies). You can also connect with Adam Dreece on Twitter.

Review of Two Pairs of Shorts

Disclaimer: I won a free copy of this book from a Goodreads Giveaway.

First, I should note that I went into this book having no idea what it was. I thought the title was quirky enough to be interesting, and I figured I’d give it a shot and see what it was about. It turns out the title is a pun on the four short stories in the book…two pairs. It’s clearly a self-published book, and from the start I could see it isn’t one of the more professional self-publications. There are no page numbers, the text is left-justified (like a Word document that was directly uploaded without formatting), and most of the book is double-spaced, giving it a strange layout. However, I decided to focus on the content itself, rather than letting the formatting anomalies affect my judgment of the book.

The stories themselves were mostly bland. The writing itself is solid enough; the writer knows how to paint a descriptive scene, and the book was mostly free of grammatical errors. But the problem was simply that the stories didn’t go anywhere. One of the stories was nothing more than a man walking to the mailbox, for about twenty pages, while he reminisced about how his life wasn’t going anywhere. Another had a woman doing laundry, for about six pages, while she reminisced about her poor life and her abusive husband. She spends the whole time thinking about having a nice cold glass of lemonade, but the big twist ending (Spoiler Alert!) is that when she goes inside, her husband already drank it!

The only thing that made reading this worthwhile was that two of the stories were kind of funny. Completely predictable and without much plot, but humorous enough that I was entertained. But all in all, I’m glad that I didn’t actually pay for this book.

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Breaking the Norms in Romance Novels

Romance novels are not my first love.

I’ve read some that were written by people I know on Twitter, a few others that I got for free through giveaways, and some that I picked up just for research purposes. There’s always a bit of a romance subplot in my own books, though my primary genre is urban fantasy. I’m always looking to improve every aspect of my writing, including the romances, so I try to look carefully at each romance I read and figure out what works, what doesn’t, and what can be tweaked.

There’s a few things I’ve noticed tend to be trends in almost every romance novel that I’ve read:

  • Super-hot, perfect men with flowing blonde hair, who are also rich, famous, successful, and yet still manage to be sensitive and chivalrous.
  • A female protagonist who is, in stark contrast to the male lead, pretty bland and normal.
  • Love at first sight, or at the very least, intense attraction at first sight. I can always tell from page one who the main character is going to end up with at the end of the book.
  • Everything is very cis/heteronormative, with LGBT characters few and far between.
  • There’s always a “Oh no, they had a fight and might break up!” moment near the end.
  • Then they get together anyway and always, ALWAYS have a happily ever after.

Now, some of these tropes I can understand…as much as a happily ever after gets bland after awhile, it makes sense that readers want a happy and satisfying ending. And I can understand having a near-breakup around the climax, because there has to be conflict in order for a story to remain interesting.

What I don’t like is how every couple seems to be carbon-copies of each other. I’ve never read a romance novel where the male lead is, say, someone like me: overweight, poor, nerdy, and unable to attract women the majority of the time. And I’ve never read a romance novel where the romantic feelings developed slowly over time, the way a lot of real-life relationships do. Instead it’s always a head-first dive into True Love, where you can practically hear the violin music playing in the background.

Recently, I’ve been writing a lot of romance novels for freelance ghostwriting projects (the titles and details of which I cannot share due to NDAs). What I’ve been trying to do, however, is to break out of some of these romance novel tropes. I deliberately decided to make one of the male leads a balding, overweight, middle-aged man. Another was a scruffy, shy man who spent most of his time reading. I made one of the stories have an interracial couple. And another one pairs a lesbian and a bisexual as the main romantic couple.

I’ve found these projects a lot more enjoyable because I can play around with the tropes and try to find ways to keep things fresh. I’m still experimenting and learning, and I’ll still say I’m “still learning” when I’ve written twenty, a hundred, or a thousand of these stories. But the results have been quite good, and my clients have definitely been satisfied.

And I’ll be applying some of what I’m learning here to my own future novels as well. Speaking of which, expect updates soon on revisions of Contamination, since I’m about to dive into some serious work on it this coming week.

mani_promoManifestation is available in paperback format through:

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Romancing the Ghostwriter

Getting paid to write is an amazing thing.

I’ve blogged a few times over the last few months about how I haven’t been writing much. I’ve been struggling, due mostly to a combination of life changes (leaving school, starting a new relationship) and work issues (being stuck in a crap job, working long hours, and being exhausted all of the time). It was hard to find the time to work, whether it be on one of my own novels, or on a blog post, or anything else.

To give you an idea how bad things got, here’s my Writer’s Calendar for January:

One lonely sticker
One lonely sticker

I give myself a sticker for every 1000 words I write, or for one blog post, or any equivalent amount of writing or revisions. It’s a great motivational tool to be able to look at a good week of writing progress and see a visual representation of all of the words I’ve written. But obviously, January sucked. I wrote one blog post, and that was it.

But once I started doing paid writing assignments (after leaving my crappy restaurant job once and for all), this is what February looks like:

I'm a superstar!
I’m a superstar!

All kinds of stickers! Every star is from paid writing gigs. The lone sticker on the 23rd is from revisions. And the penguin is for blog posts (I get a penguin today for writing this, too).

It feels pretty good. Not only am I paying the bills with writing, but I’m also doing something productive. It’s nice to be able to look back at the end of the month and see how far I’ve come.

Most of the ghostwriting I’ve been doing has been for romance novellas (I can’t divulge the details due to NDAs, as they’re being published on Amazon under the client’s pen name). It’s a different sort of writing than I’m used to, but it’s fun and productive. And I’m getting my creative juices flowing on a daily basis. I didn’t miss one single day since February 7th. Some of the earliest stuff I wrote was what I had to do in order to actually get the jobs, but by February 21st I was officially hired and bringing in the paychecks full time.

There’s no guarantees that I’ll get nonstop work, since freelancing is on a case-by-case basis. But I’ve got two steady clients so far who are very pleased with my work and are continuing to hire me for ongoing projects. So I’m going to be ghostwriting up a storm. And hopefully finding some time for my own projects as well. After all, I’ve got a sequel to finish revising.

mani_promoManifestation is available in paperback format through:

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Freelancing Like A Boss

I’ve been in a bit of a writing funk for awhile now. The combination of leaving college, working a crap hourly job to pay the bills, and going through some major changes in my life has left me a bit out of my usual rhythm. I’ve been struggling to get back into a regular writing schedule, including blogging, but I’ve only been averaging one blog post per month and barely doing any other writing or revising in a long time.

This past week, however, I’ve been working some freelance writing projects. This has been a great experience for me. I’ve done freelance work before, but because of life circumstances, it had been about a year and a half since I’d done it. Now, I’m on my second paid writing (!!!) project of the week, with more opportunities on the horizon. It’s feeling pretty good, and I’m getting back into a “writing every day” habit.

Having a deadline is great for that.

Hopefully, this will not just help me pay the bills, but also help me get back into a regular rhythm. I’ve got the creative juices flowing on a daily basis, and I’ve got an external pressure forcing me to turn off Netflix, close the DS, and open up OpenOffice to get some writing done every single day. It’s just a matter of time before this leads to spillover into my personal projects, like getting back into a regular blogging schedule, and working on revisions of Contamination.

So here’s hoping these changes work out for the best, and I finally get my writing career moving on the path I’ve been striving for over the last several years.

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I’ve been thinking a lot today about definitions.

I studied communication in college, and one area in particular I always found fascinating was the field of Symbolic Interactionism. I’ve touched on this subject quite a few times before on my blog, but in case you’re not familiar with it, Symbolic Interactionism is essentially a theory about how language defines our reality and how we interact with it. Or, as Wikipedia puts it:

…people act toward things based on the meaning those things have for them, and these meanings are derived from social interaction and modified through interpretation.

This concept had a big influence on the way people view health, disability, and medical conditions. One of my Rowan University professors wrote an academic article on the subject, discussing how parents respond differently to their children’s difficulties based on whether or not they can name and define the problem. For example, if a child is struggling in school, parents may simply say, “You need to try harder,” or, “If you applied yourself more, you’d do fine.” However, if the parents learn that their child is dyslexic, they come to view the child’s difficulties differently. Because the problem has a name and a definition, they can look at it through that lens. They no longer treat the child as if they’re to blame for their own struggles.

Over the last few months, I’ve been struggling more and more with my physical health. I often work 8 to 12 hour shifts where I’m on my feet all day without any break (New Jersey state labor laws don’t require breaks for workers unless you’re under 18). My feet, ankles, and knees end up in major pain by the end of the day. I’ve done everything I can to combat these issues (new shoes, Dr. Scholl’s inserts, Gold Bond Pain Relieving Foot Cream, etc). I would see a doctor about my issues, but I have no insurance, I can’t afford insurance (even under Obamacare), and my job won’t give me insurance until I’ve been working there full time for a year. So I’m left with unmanageable pain that is reaching the point that it’s interfering with my ability to do my job, and with my ability to live my life.

I’ve had to start riding the electric carts at the grocery store because I can no longer walk around on my own without unbearable pain. I can barely climb stairs. And today I finally broke down and bought a cane, because at the end of my work day, I’ve been having to lean on tables and counters in order to keep myself upright.

But I don’t know what’s actually wrong. I know my feet hurt. I know it’s gotten to the point that it’s more than just typical aches and pains. When I can afford a doctor’s visit, I expect I’ll need to get some kind of orthopedic shoes or supports to combat the pain. But I don’t really know how to address these issues, and I don’t know how to explain them to people.

One of my coworkers today asked me if I could try getting some kind of government disability aid. I struggled to phrase a response: “Well, I’m not disabled. This…probably…won’t be a lifelong problem. I just can’t get through the day.”

I couldn’t explain what I was going through because I don’t know how to define it. I don’t know what to call it other than “foot pain.” I don’t know if it’s something that will go away once I change jobs to something where I’m not on my feet all day. Or if some kind of treatment will fix the problem. Or if I have some kind of more permanent damage.

What I do know is that last Saturday, I had to walk away from my workstation after 11 hours on my feet because I was feeling nauseous from the pain. I know I sat for half an hour, unable to move, before I could gather the strength to walk out to my car. Then I sat in my car in the parking lot outside my apartment complex for another half hour, unable to manage the task of walking inside and climbing the stairs.

I know there’s something wrong that goes beyond “I had a long day and my feet hurt.”

But I don’t know how to approach it, how to address it, without being able to define it.

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Post-NaNo Failure Funk, Revisions Funkadelic?

It’s been 25 days since I last wrote a blog post, 41 days since I worked on revisions for Arcana Revived, and 16 days since I last did any writing for my #NaNoWriMo project. I ended NaNo with only about 35,000 words, my worst performance yet. To say I’m in a funk is, frankly, an understatement.

There’s plenty of reasons for it. Compared to this time last year I’m at a new job, in a new relationship, and no longer in college. Things have been rather topsy-turvy for awhile now, and it’s taken awhile to get settled into a new routine. One where I’m no longer fretting about whether the rent will be paid next month, and where I know for sure that there will be food on the table. That sort of thing makes a big difference.

I’ve missed a number of self-imposed deadlines. I do a lot better when someone else is imposing a deadline on me, like when I was in college. Part of the reason that I’ve written six first drafts of Arcana Revived books already is because I was writing a lot of them as class projects, such as my master’s thesis project. After I lost that structure and got out of the academic routine, it became a lot harder to keep focused.

Hopefully I can make some changes soon and get back into a groove again. I was doing a good job writing almost every day during NaNoWriMo. I earned a lot of stickers (one for every 1000 words). I haven’t earned any stickers all month so far, though this blog post counts as one (one blog post = 1 sticker). So hopefully I can fill my calendar with stickery goodness and get back into the groove. We’ll see how it goes.

If it goes well, expect more regular blog posts again. I enjoy blogging about my writing and revision progress, and the feedback I get on these posts tends to help keep me in the zone.

mani_promoManifestation is available in paperback format through:

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Thanksgiving Drama Llama

Wow, I haven’t written a blog post in a long time. Just in time for my holiday depression.

Which, this year, is starting around Thanksgiving.

Thanksgiving has been a source of family tension for a number of years now. When I was a kid, it was difficult because my parents were divorced, so we had to coordinate holidays between two households. For the most part, this wasn’t a bad thing (hey, twice the turkey and pumpkin pie, amiright?). But I lived most of my life having to schedule when I would go to Mom’s and when I would go to Dad’s. Thursday with one, Friday with the other (and later in the year, Christmas Eve/Day being split between them). Things got even more complicated when we all grew up.

See, almost no one in my family has been speaking to each other since about 2007. I’m estranged from my mom, older sister, and younger sister, all for completely separate (yet inevitably intertwined) reasons. This has made things difficult on my dad; now he’s the one having to coordinate schedules between different family members, holding three events, one for each of his children (my sisters aren’t speaking to each other, either, and I don’t even know why). To add to the awkwardness, my little sister just got divorced, but apparently my ex-brother-in-law still hangs out with my older sister.

Complications abound.

The reason I’m writing about all of this right now is because today, my sister sent me an email inviting me to come to her house for Thanksgiving. It was a simple message, worded politely, and under any other circumstances it would have been a nice gesture. Except that she’s only contacted me one other time in the last eight years, and that time it was to scold me for what she perceived as my mistreatment of our father (long story short: Christmas 2008 I had a panic attack over the complications around family scheduling and couldn’t spend Christmas with my dad, so my sister emailed me to scold me for putting him through that).

So what led to my sister and I losing contact to begin with? Well…

From January 2006 to July 2007, my sister and I were roommates. It was a mutually beneficial situation: she’d recently lost her roommate and was struggling with the rent on a three-bedroom townhome, and I’d just moved back to New Jersey and was struggling with my own finances after the move and a job change. Situations in the household were…complicated, to say the least.

I made every effort to keep from intruding on my sister’s life. I kept mostly to my own room, so as not to disturb her routine. The only regular time we spent together was Thursday night dinner, which included me, both of my sisters, my niece, my brother-in-law, and anywhere from three to six other friends, depending on who could make it that week. I helped clean up the kitchen before dinner each week, my sister cooked, and after dinner we had either movie or game night. It was the biggest regular event we had going on at the time, and my sister made a very big deal out of it. So much so that if one of her friends couldn’t make it that week, she would call them up and ask why they couldn’t make it, try to convince them to come anyway, and insist that they come the following week to make up for it.

Other than Thursday night dinner, I was mostly excluded from other social events. One night I came home to find my sisters and their friends dressed as pirates, ready to go out to see one of the Pirates of the Caribbean movies. I was “allowed” to tag along since I was there, but I hadn’t known about it until I got home from work, and I’m quite sure they would have all gone without me had I not stumbled across it.

Then I was excluded from the big family reunion picnic. My extended family (all the way out to my mom’s cousins and great aunts and so on) has an annual picnic each year, and my sisters made plans to attend, making food and packing coolers with drinks, and so on. Once again I basically walked in on them while they were preparing to leave. But no one said anything to me. I sat in my room, waiting to see if anyone would come talk to me about what was going on. I didn’t even know the picnic was that weekend…I hadn’t received an invite from anyone in my extended family, no one had told me the date, and I was completely unaware it was happening on that particular day. My little sister came over to meet up with my older sister so they could carpool, they loaded all their picnic supplies up, and they drove off, knowing that I was in the house but never once mentioning to me where they were going or what they were doing. I was, quite simply, snubbed.

So things were already pretty rocky in the household by July 2007. At that point, I’d met a girl (long story, and not crucial to the main conflict with my sister). I ended up moving out of my sister’s townhouse at the end of July, after having given her more than 30 days notice. I moved in with my new girlfriend, who I ended up living with for four years (until she almost got me murdered…but that’s another story).

The last time I spoke to my sister face-to-face was the day I moved out. I’d been slowly moving stuff over to the new apartment, a carload at a time, so as to save on the money of a truck rental. By the end of the month, 75% of my stuff had already been moved for several weeks. I still had my computer and a few odds and ends to pack. I had also left my Wii in my sister’s living room, since when I bought it, she’d asked if we could have it in the living room to be available for everyone to play.

Of course, I was also flat broke. I’d had to pay first months rent at the new apartment in July as well as paying my share of the rent to my sister. I was so broke at the time that I couldn’t afford to get the internet hooked up at the new apartment for at least another month.

So it was a Thursday night, two days before the end of July. I did my laundry at the townhouse, since there was no washer/dryer at the new apartment, and I still officially lived in the townhouse at the time. Then I cleaned the kitchen, put away the dishes, and took out the trash, all to set up for Thursday night dinner.

Then my sister came home.

I asked her if I could keep my computer hooked up in my old room for a couple of weeks, until I got the internet at my new place. I didn’t think it would be a big deal, since there was no one moving into the room and it wouldn’t cost her any money to leave an extra computer lying around for a little while. I needed internet access to pay my bills, check my email, and so on, though I was only planning to do so once a week when I came over on Thursdays. That was when I believed I’d still be welcome for Thursday dinners.

When I asked if I could leave my computer there, my sister got angry and started practically yelling at me. She told me in no uncertain terms that since I’d only paid my rent until Saturday, I was going to have all of my stuff out by Saturday, and I was to leave my key. I stood there, stunned, feeling like I was being attacked, when all I’d done was ask a simple favor. But I told her fine, no problem, I’d leave.

I packed the rest of my stuff, including my Wii from the living room, and went off to my new home. An hour or two later I got a phone call, but I was too upset to answer. All I got was a voicemail from my sister: “Hey Jason, I saw that you took the Wii when you left, which is fine since it’s yours. But my Mario Party 8 game was in it when you took it, so please bring it back.”

When anyone else wasn’t coming for Thursday dinner, they got a phone call begging them to come and insisting they make it the next week. I was asked to return a video game.

She never called me again. I was never invited to dinner again. I sat by the phone the next week, waiting for a call that never came. I was so upset that I had to drop the game in her mailbox rather than delivering it in person.

Now it’s eight years later. And she wants me to come over to Thanksgiving.

There was no apology. No words attempting to make amends. Just the invitation.

And I don’t even know how to react to it.

Yes, it’s good that she is finally reaching out. Maybe she wants to repair our relationship. I don’t even know if we have a relationship to repair. Long before the day I moved out, I was already being excluded from everything. I’m pretty sure the only reason I was ever allowed to come to Thursday night dinners was because I lived there, and it’s kind of hard to exclude me when I’m right upstairs.

More than anything, one thing sticks out in my mind. My sister ran a now-deactivated blog back then, and she wrote a post about my moving out. But she didn’t talk about being upset that her brother was leaving. She didn’t say she’d miss me. She said, “My extra rent money is moving out at the end of the month, so things are going to be a little tighter around here.”

I don’t think I’ve ever gotten over that.

And I don’t think I can go see her on Thanksgiving. Not without more being said than just the invite. Not without clearing the air first, instead of showing up there and pretending like everything is okay.

Because everything is not okay.

And I can’t deal with another uncomfortable family holiday like that.

mani_promoManifestation is available in paperback format through:

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Vampires and Magic: Your World’s Rules

I’ve given a lot of thought lately to the way different worlds have different rules for things that don’t exist in our reality. I talked about this awhile ago when I did my posts on magic and how to make your own rules. The basic idea is that if you’re writing about things that don’t have established rules in the real world, you can make up any rules you like, as long as you’re consistent and your world makes sense. That’s why you can have wizards in the Harry Potter universe who need wands to cast their spells, and wizards in the Harry Dresden universe who use magic circles to contain the energies of their spells. Each rule system is different, and they contradict each other at points, but it works as long as you make it believable within the context of your own novels.

Since I started reading an Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter novel, I’ve been thinking about how this concept applies to the well-known and sometimes overused genre of vampire stories. There’s a million ways to depict vampires, from the classic evil nobleman to the dark suave seducer to the suffering anti-hero to the deformed monster that preys on humans like a feral beast. And within all of these variations, the rules always change. Consider the usual vampire strengths and weaknesses:

Sunlight: Vampires are either weakened by it (Bram Stoker), instantly killed (Dungeons & Dragons), set on fire (Buffy the Vampire Slayer), slowly cooked (True Blood), or . . . well, we won’t talk about the other possibilities.

Holy water and crosses: Vampires are either repelled by them (D&D), physically hurt by touching them (Buffy), or unaffected by them at all (True Blood).

Silver: Some stories never mention silver at all, and sometimes it harms, weakens, or debilitates vampires. People are never quite sure.

Turning into a vampire: Sometimes you just get bitten and become a vampire, sometimes they need to feed you their own blood. Sometimes the vampire that made you can control you, sometimes you’re on your own.

Then there’s garlic, mirrors, whether or not they can enter a home uninvited, and plenty of other variables. No two vampire stories ever depict a vampire quite the same way, and yet the reader or viewer accepts the rules as they’re presented to them. If you’re reading a book where the author says inviting a vampire into your home makes them immune to crosses and garlic, then you accept that. If you’re reading one that says a vampire can force its way into a bachelor’s apartment but not a family home (because there’s more strong positive energy from a loving family), you accept it. The important thing is that the writer is consistent within their own rules and that everything makes sense.

Which makes me curious about other classics that can be modified and updated with new rules. There’s already plenty of examples. Maybe your werewolf built up an immunity to silver (like with iocane powder). Maybe Dr. Frankenstein the Third made his monster out of parts from aliens that crash landed at Area 51. Maybe trolls get more powerful the bigger their bridge is, so the Troll of the Golden Gate Bridge becomes an unstoppable beast. You never know.

I like it when writers keep things interesting. I like to see unique rules. And it’s always fun when something unexpected pops up and it really makes me think.

mani_promoManifestation is available in paperback format through:

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By: Kaitlin Zeilman, Rowan University

Joseph F. Berenato

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Jennifer Martin's OCR Research Blog

A look into obstacle course races and the tough women who enjoy competing in them


Christina Schillaci - Female Bodybuilding Culture

Carthornia Kouroupos -- Research Blog

A closer look at Japanese Anime