Roberto Scarlato's Blog, page 14

Graveyard School

Now that Camp Zombie is out of the way, I can tell you about another little series I got involved in: The Graveyard School Books.


These revolved around a fictional town of Grove Hill. The books lasted from 1994 to 1999. While I considered them books, they were technically defined as novellas because they were so short. They were shorter than the Goosebumps series. But there was a difference. Big difference. Characters ate eyeballs, corpses and coffins rose up out of the floor of the boy's bathroom like something out of the movie Poltergeist. I mean, this was some hardcore stuff.


Across from the school sits an abandoned cemetery...which isn't much of a stretch. Proviso West, the high school I attended, was just a street away from the cemetery. You could see it right when you walked out of the main entrance.


All totaled, the series lasts about 28 books. I've read Don't Eat The Mystery meat #1, Slime Lake #7, Let's scare The Teacher to Death #8 and There's a Ghost in The Boy's Bathroom #10. The others were just a little bit too goofy for my taste. That seems to be a theme of YA Horror; somehow it always turns to humor rather than horror.

Camp Zombie

Okay, so this series, in particular, wasn't very impressive with me. But it did keep me up at night. The idea of a Zombie camp counselor, roaming the grounds. Sheesh...just leaves you with an unsettling feeling. Come to think of it, I'm glad I never attended a camp. Maybe this book had something to do with it.
Oddly enough, I've only read the Second Summer.

Ghosts of Fear street

All I'm going to say about this series is that it was something new, before my journey into Christopher Pike. This was like Goosebumps 2.0 and it left a mark on me. While the descriptions got better and the stories were more engaging, I found the dialogue to be a little wooden at times. Not to say that I didn't have favorites. But, like the Goosebumps series, I slowly began to realize that the books were getting...well...goofier.
The ones that did it right, out of the 35 book series, were Who's Been Sleeping In My Grave, The Ooze, and How to be a Vampire
The one thing that I took away from these books was to always make the dialogue interesting.
Also, the covers were pretty out there. Look at the the one above. It's almost like the vampire is a puppeteer or someone who goes (forgive the pun) Bat-s#*t Crazy about reading.

Christopher Pike

Before the Borders in Oak Park closed, I began having a fix for something new. A little over ten years ago, when a Goosebumps fix seemed hopeless and dated, I wandered over to a section, in that same Borders, and spied some young adult horror fiction.
Christopher Pike caught my eye with his book, The Weekend. Here's what I read from the back cover:
The weekend in Mexico seemed like a dream holiday, with an oceanside mansion all to themselves, but someone was taking their revenge. There was the girl upstairs fighting for her life, and the garage explosion that could have killed them all.
First off, whoa. I mean, wtf. So many questions. Who is the girl? Why did they all gather there? Mexico? Sounds dangerous. What caused the garage to explode?
Ironically, I have never read The Weekend. But that didn't stop me from pulling 22 plus titles to the ground as I sat cross-legged, reading only the back cover of each and every one of them. My mother got mad at me for making such a mess but I didn't care. I was addicted to the thought-bubbles exploding out of my head. Now, looking back on it, I can say that Christopher Pike helped me be more intriguing when it comes to writing a back cover summary of a book. I try to raise as many questions as possible when writing a good summary for the back cover, which can take me anywhere from a couple days to a couple months.
In the end, even though I wanted to bring all the titles home with me, I only walked away with a handful...Chain Letter, Chain Letter 2, Tales of Terror and, of course, The Grave.
Chain Letter was a fresh idea, kinda peculiar.
Chain Letter 2 was even weirder.
Tales of Terror was just plain wrong, but I liked it. There was a bit of a Misery-like story in there but I was easy to forgive at that age.
But The Grave showed me a combo of horror, suspense, supernatural, mythology and a dose of the macabre. 90 percent of the book was perfect terror and mystery... the ending was a bit goofy. Oh, and hey, check out the description of The Grave:
An innocent man is attacked by a cult and buried alive. A pretty girl meets a fascinating guy, who hardly seems to blink or breathe, and emits a cool presence. They're both living in a weird realm where life and death mirror each other--where the grave no longer promises escape.
Do I detect some pre-Twilight Edward descriptions?

Goosebumps

Not only is R.L. Stine famous for writing the popular Goosebumps series, he was also a huge chunk of my childhood. Specifically, he and my brother got me into collecting books.
My brother bought 5-10 books in the Goosebumps series...I bought the rest. I'd make a trip to our local Target with my mom and find an entire endcap loaded with new titles. I was in literary ecstasy.
Not only were the stories fresh and weird, they also helped shape my imagination. They fed little into details, giving you just the basic concept and characters and dialogue. This is where I focused more on the setting, drawing vivid pictures in my mind of the landscape, roads and houses. Whenever I couldn't picture something quite right I'd close the book, close my eyes and paint inside my head.
Of course, I can go on and on about my favorites of the 62 classic titles, ( Welcome to Dead House, Monster Blood I,II,III,IV, Let's Get Invisible, The Haunted Mask, Night of The Jack-o-lanterns, A Shocker on Shock Street, Attack of The Mutant) but I would rather want to know what your favorites were and why?
After the last book, Monster Blood IV, the series sat for a while until Stine released a 2000 series version of it with Cry of The Cat... which just wasn't my cup of tea.
Reading all of those books was a lesson in creating your own setting whether they be from memory, real landmarks or just pure imagination.
Later, it became a popular tv show. Only caught a couple episodes in my youth but still, to this day, remember the chilling theme song.
For a man who has sold over 400 million books, I'm happy to see he has done so well. I just hope future generations will go back to the original 62 in the series.

Scary Stories

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It's October. That means spring has taken a hike, the hi-jinks are about to begin and somebody's house or car, might be yours, will get properly toilet papered this evening. Oh, also, people will be listening, watching and reading all things horror.
So what am I going to do with 31 days?
Share the best books of the genre I've ever read.
I grew up reading these. Each one was a lesson in real horror compared to the crap that's out there today. I'm all for old school horror. I'm talking about the books that made it hard for me to sleep at night.
Today, I'm reviewing Scary Stories by Alvin Schwartz.
After a stint in the navy, Schwartz became interested in writing. Later, he got a degree in journalism. When he set to work, he penned a series of stories to tell in the dark, which were part old folk lore and part urban legends.
From 1981 to 1991 he gave us three books, packed with such memorable classics as The Big Toe, The Hook or The Viper. (Which I know the last one is a little silly and not really scary, "I've come to Vipe your Vindows," granted, but still a classic yarn.)
But what I love most about these stories are the details that aren't being shared. It just makes it that much creepier and certainly a tactic I hope to employ in my stories. If you're looking for a really good example, I recommend The Monkey's Paw . I won't spoil it for you, but I'll just say, you'll be relieved at the end but it will keep you up at night regardless.
There are so many simple, effective scary stories in these four collections. Some are not even 500 words long.

But, then again, some of my favorites are the ones that still terrorize me today such as the bride who accidentally got locked up in a steamer trunk...or The Dead Man's Hand, The Cat's Paw, or countless others.
Also the illustrations were also like something out of a bad dream. If the story didn't scare you, the illustration would.
I know now that the twists, turns and hauntingly mind-bending stories collected within these slim books was the closest I was going to get at that time to Horror and Suspense that matched Alfred Hitchcock.
So here's a salute, to ALA's No. 1 banned book. Great way to kick off the month. Share with your friends...if you dare.

Rage

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When finding something to read next, I wouldn't normally gravitate towards rare books. But reading that one book in my last post by Allison Bartlett really got me interested in them. It is true that every book tells a story. Just looking at some of the books on my wall I can associate them with a memory. Catcher in the Rye? Found in the attic of my parents house. My wife suggested I read it. Catch-22? Bought it after I read the first five chapters for my intro to fiction class. Magic Man? It was in the bargain bin right before I was going to walk out of a Borders without buying anything. The list goes on.
But when I found out that Stephen King purposely pulled one of his books out of print, I have to admit, my interest was piqued.
I wasn't outwardly looking for it, but, one day in Woodridge, I stumbled upon a collection in a Goodwill store. The collection was called The Bachman Books. Of course, everyone knows by now that King was writing under another pen name and called himself: Richard Bachman. Inside was the full novels of Roadwork, The Running Man, The Long Walk and...right at the beginning of the book: Rage. The out of print book.
It only cost me 75 cents.
Rage is a slim book, about 169 pages. But packed into those pages is a very disturbing story. Now, look, I know that this is a controversial book and that's why I'm going to warn some people about this book. This book is not for disturbed minds. A smart person can read this book and not be affected. However, if a disturbed individual read this...well...it's more likely to grease his crazy wheel.
The book starts with Charlie Decker, a troubled teen already facing hard times when he brought a pipe wrench to school and decked a teacher with it. Now, at the start of the book, he's recalling flashbacks of his troubled family life. Later he sets fire to his locker then walks into his homeroom in high school and shoots his algebra teacher. What follows next is a series of surreal discussions, confessions, proclamations, sex education, procrastinations and a fair-fight slap match between two girls who hate each other. Charlie is obsessed with the concept of getting it on. It's very hard to determine what he's talking about but, then again, the book is through Charlie's point of view and in the story he's a very dangerous sociopath who now has a the control of a classroom under his thumb. The group of twenty five students band together to discuss their life, their flaws and their somewhat broken future. Eventually, they all gang up on this one bully named Ted Jones and it is unclear exactly what they did to him but, by the end of it, he's nothing but a drooling, whimpering mess. The book is intense, dangerous, but chocked full of suspense. I'm not saying that it's good but I am saying that my curiosity of it was satisfied and, happily, that book is now closed. It still sits on my shelf. I might read it again someday. But by then it will be with a wistful eye and a shake of the head.
One of the major reasons why Stephen King pulled the book was because one such troubled teen shot a teacher...and they found Rage in his locker.
So now comes the opinion you've probably been wondering about: Was he right in making the book out of print? I would say yes. Knowing a person has imitated a work of fiction to such a degree must weigh pretty heavy. But I believe that he did what he felt he had to do. I mean, how much can you ask of the guy?
My wife has always told me something that has stuck with me. She's said, "Never apologize for your work." And I stand by that. Books will offend, books will pry, books will certainly provoke thought. But the writer's work is to simply write. Separate indivdiuals who cannot give this material the fear and respect it deserves, to just read it and walk away from it, were more disturbed from the get-go.

The Man Who Loved Books Too Much

The Man Who Loved Books Too Much, penned by Allison Hoover Bartlett, paints the portrait of an underground thief known as John Gilkey. Gilkey, raised by a lenient family, does not believe in right or wrong. He believes in winning and losing.
Ms. Bartlett does a fantastic job researching her subject, both man and mystery. It's hard to believe, when I picked this book up at a closing Borders, that I'd be so protective of it. I never want to let it go. The story was so compelling I actually, PURPOSELY, read slowly. Having only 14 chapters, it is a light read.
Gilkey never fails to fascinate. He started stealing rare books in 1999, believing that a man was only as good and as noteworthy if he had a private collection of handsomely rare books. He printed out a list of 100 classic books. He wanted to collect them all. So, on his journey to aquire more books, without paying for them, he concocts schemes and excuses to get his way. First he starts with credit card number receipts, using the number over the phone to a bookdealer and walking in to collect the book later. But from there, his schemes become more elaborate and creative. It just goes to show what man will do, what lengths he will endure, for a good book.
Not only do with get to know the lowly thief, jumping from bookshop to bookshop across america, but we also learn of the man who tracks him down: Ken Sanders. He's a gruff, tough, no room for enough businessman who believes that John Gilkey made off with thousands of dollars, hurting the booksellers. Though we know that he is correct, there is something seductive in turning these pages. I guess we're all trying to find the method in the madness.
Bartlett even outlines book thieves in history, who have actually maimed and killed people, even burning down their houses, to aquire one rare book. Now that's what I call a Bibliomaniac.
Gilkey, never wanting a downside to his life, offers many different ways that the book could end. Like the diligient listener that she is, Bartlett hears him out. All of the concepts sound interesting. He offers to open his own bookshop, write detective novels starring a character similiar to himself, perhaps produce author Bobble heads to give to people who send him books. A man as obsssesd as Gilkey had me hooked from page one.
I give this five out of five stars. Do yourself a favor and read this one slowly. Savor it, becuase it's just that good.

There's Still Hope After All

After many moons and a significant amount of time spent tapping the delete button, I am now happy to announce that I have finished my second collection of Short Stories.

My last collection had 19 of them.

This has one extra.

It is significantly thinner than my last collection but I passed the 50,000 word mark so, in my eyes, I'm off the clock.

Feels so liberating to finish something after so long. I started this thing in late 2009 and encountered many blocks along the way.

Right now I'm having a friend edit it so that it can be ready some time in October. So keep an eye on those kindles, folks. A new Scarlato title is on its way.

In the meantime, I'll start working, after some rest, of course, on several Novellas already in progress.

:)

Crossing Borders

So, we've come to that fork in the road. I guess I should have seen it coming as soon as I heard, as early as 2008, that Borders was in trouble. It was eventual that they would be losing business and would be closing some stores. Naively, I just thought they would close twenty or thirty. Surely that can't mean all of them, I thought. But, no, it was true.
It hits me hard to know that a fine chain like this would be closing its doors.
Why does it hit me hard?
Several reasons.
Borders, namely the one in Oak Park, was always my constant escape hatch. When things weren't so cheery at home, all I had to do was walk, hitch a ride with a friend or just drive there myself. I'd go there to relax, read, drink a mocha frappe from the cafe. The usual. I was so used to coming in, the minute I'd walk in I'd stretch my arms, roll my neck and head for the shelves.
I think the longest stretch of time I spent in a Borders was nine hours. Yeah, I bought a couple, okay, several, okay, a couple bags of books but that was just my thing. I think twice I've taken a nap in a chair at Borders. That bookstore was my second home.
A couple years go by and I finally come across the fact that there's an open mic night called the Lucid Apple once every month. I told my first story, Failing Upwards , there in February of 2010. It was the night of my life. I told more stories as the months went by. I did mostly stuff from my first and second short story collection. I read The Nature of a Second Hand , Powerless, The prologue to Mr. Dead Eyes, The prologue to Wearing Donnie Torr, Lighter, The Graveyard Shifters, I Want to be a Monster , The Flight of Red Sophia , and finally Ghostbusted, which was my first nonfiction essay.
Each night I had weak knees, terrified, but still came running back for more.
Now, with Borders liquidating, everything is falling apart. No more Open Mic's. They are trying to move to a different place, which I hope they do, but right now they are negotiating for one more night which seems damn near impossible to get. I hope they keep it going, though. I will definitely show up. But it's a rough sock to the gut.
I knew what the problem was. It was eReaders. A takeover. If Borders was just a few years earlier with the Kobo, who knows, it might have been Barnes and Noble closing.
I stopped by the Borders in Naperville for one quick look at what I feared most.
July 23rd, 2011: To borrow Roosevelt's line is, "A [day] that will live in infamy."
This one picture gives me chills...









Everything must go, hardly anything did...










I weep for the Future...




















Had to do my last tribute to Borders by planking. The two books in my hand are Ham on Rye by Charles Bukowski and The Man who Loved Books Too Much...
So long, Borders. I wish I could've stocked my books in you.