Rebecca Jones-Howe's Blog, page 7

MOODBOARD: “When It Happens”

I have exciting news! A new story is coming. But this time it’s not a Patreon thing. This time, you get to head over to a wonderful small press to buy a copy of a wonderful horror magazine to read my new published work, “When It Happens”, which I greatly enjoyed making a moodboard for. Because it’s fall, and it’s almost Halloween!

It’s also 2020, a year that really made me think that this story would never see the light of day.

The Backstory (When It Happen(ed)!)

Several years back, a writer friend had this idea to put together an anthology of stories about the conspiracy theory wherein people believe that the moon is a hologram.

So that sparked something. I wrote the story. I had fun with it. During that time I was hardcore into videos making fun of Alex Jones, and much of that obsession found its way into my piece. That and werewolves. And period blood. Because I don’t think enough fiction revolves around period blood. Or periods in general. And what good story about the moon doesn’t revolve around a women’s menstrual cycle, honestly?

Anyway, the concept of the anthology never took form and thus, I had a story to publish. But uh, the story takes place in an alternate reality where werewolves exist and are universally recognized and there’s essentially a pandemic of werewolf activity going down. Which sounds kind of familiar, right?

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About “When It Happens”

The story follows Kate and Michael, a married couple of 5 years. She’s a public health nurse. He’s a manager at an electronics store who kind of had to work retail out of necessity after the government shut down the nearby pipeline project. During their anniversary hike, Michael gets bitten and taken to hospital, but outright refuses to get the lycanthropy vaccine. Why? Because werewolves aren’t real. The moon isn’t real. How can there be werewolves without the the moon?

As with all werewolf stories, the change inevitable happens. But in a world of sheep, will Kate just become another member of the flock?

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Inspiration

As with all moodboard posts, I know that I need to delve deep into what inspired me here.

Conspiracy Theories

When it happens is about people who become susceptable to conspiracy theories. Back when I watched ?????, the flat earther documentary, to me it became pretty obvious that people who buy into these theories desire to feel special. TO feel like they’re leaders. Visionaries. They want credentials.

I think we’re all bound to buy into this to some degree. Me, I enjoy being skeptical and I can also be a major asshole when it comes to cringing at MLM’s, for instance.

Alex Jones

Considering that I wrote the first version of this story a few years back, Alex Jones definitely provided a lot of story fodder. I watched a lot of his famous rants and obviously parodied InfoWars. I just find conspiracy theories both fun and interesting. Not just the theories, but the people who believe them.

I don’t want to speculate too much about why people believe what they do, but I do feel that it has to do with the obsession for fame, recognition and individuality. I’ve always been a bit of a hipster myself so I feel like I can identify with that aspect of things. I want to be the person who knows the good music or television or books before everyone else. Conspiracy theorists are just a ridiculous extension, honestly.

They think they know the truth about things. They did all the work. So much research. They compiled it all and they can’t wait to tell you and blow your mind.

Toxic Relationships

As I wrote in my moodboard post for my story, “The Red House”, I very much enjoy writing breakup stories. “When It Happens” is a breakup story, and rightfully so, considering that it’s about how relationships dissolve when one partner adopts a new persona as a result of what I already mentioned above.

Relationship breakdowns have proven to be great fodder for my work, maybe because I’ve hit the rough patches of our marriage: Kids. Career. Life changes. Personal changes.

We’ve worked through the rough stuff and continue to enjoy a good relationship, but every one of my personal experiences does inspire me to write a bit of a “What If?” version that finds its way into my fiction.

In this case, the question is: “What if I chose not to have kids, my husband lost his job and turned into a right wing conspiracy theorist?”

The first rendition of “When It Happens” was about a middle-aged couple. The husband believed in a myriad of conspiracies. The wife was cheating on him. Some of the story focused on the affair, but ultimately distracted from the “conspiracy theories changing a person and relationship for the worse” theme, and so I decided to change things up by making the couple younger, five years into their marriage (which Gone Girl says is when things get ROUGH).

Kids?

Write what you know, right?

I know about being wary about having kids. Through friends, I know about the doubt one might have about having kids with the person they’re currently in a relationship with, which is a scary situation.

The having kids aspect heavily took over this story when I rewrote it earlier this year. It added a lot of depth and gave the story something that kept Michael and Kate somewhat connected. That mirage of an idea.

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When It (As in COVID!) Happens

So yeah, I started submitting this story in March of 2020, which was when the pandemic started getting crazy. Which was when politics started getting crazy. Which is kind of what this story is all about.

Nevertheless, I narrowed down a few magazines to potentially submit to. I submitted the story and basically gave up hope that anyone would want to publish a hyper-chaotic story about insane people in a public health crisis. But it had one perk: It was a werewolf story! And a non-cheesy one!

And a very great horror magazine picked it up in early October! Hopefully I can share with you soon which one it is, but they haven’t announced the lineup yet and I don’t want to jump the gun.

When It Happens…

The story will be coming soon. I’ve got no release date for the issue as of yet, but I will let you know once I have word of when you can buy a copy.

I’m excited. I’m ready to have new work in the world again.

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Interview w/Alec Cizak

Last Friday night (now that Katy Perry song is stuck in my head, dammit!) I had myself a nice interview with fellow author Alec Cizak. Alec is a fellow author of pulp/crime fiction, and also is the man behind Uncle B Publications. Back in the day he published my notorious zombie story, Better Places in Pulp Modern 4.

He and I conversed about controversial subject matter, telling difficult stories, and of course, my Canadian perspective on US politics. Because why the hell not?

Watch my interview with Alec Cizak below:

If you enjoyed, SUBSCRIBE to Alec’s YouTube channel. He features videos on writing and also shares his wealth of knowledge in some great deep-dives, and also does fiction readings.

Buy some of Alec’s books.

Follow Alec on Twitter.

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Now, I’m A School Mom

Honestly, I hate writing personal posts because nobody ever reads them but I’ve been up to my teeth with stress and bullshit lately that not writing a personal post would mean that this site would become quite the ghost town, so here I am, trying to make this shitty update post a “mom blog post” about my reason for not being here, which is, truthfully this: My kid entered kindergarten. I’m a school mom now. In a pandemic, because OF COURSE!

Kindergarten Time!

I have a school-age child now, which did a number on my work-life balance. No longer just a working mom. I’m a school mom! And because of this change, I went from full-time work to part-time work, which in a way is nice but also means I make less money.

Anyway, because this is Canada and British Columbia at that, our Covid cases aren’t near bad enough to deem school a cancelled thing, and so my daughter got to experience her intro to school under very uncertain Covid-conditions. I was scared at first, but things seem to be handled well enough and cases haven’t risen as a result of school, so hey, I get to be a totally anxiety-ridden wreck of a millennial parent putting her kid in school in a very tumultuous time with prospects of an even more tumultuous future.

For a while, I was an absolute wreck thinking of climate change and disease and my daughter’s future job prospects. I couldn’t sleep, which didn’t work so well with my new routine.

Family Time

The reality is that I have a good thing going. I have my parents. Sometimes it feels weird walking to school as a big group when everyone else is doing it solo. Sometimes I get insecure that I’m not doing things solo and I need like “mommy and daddy” to help me get through my day. The reality is that it takes a community to raise kids and I’m ridiculously beyond fortunate to have parents who are willing to help.

They like the walk in the morning. They like the exercise. They like spending time with their grandkids. I feel thankful that my daughter gets to wave to FOUR PEOPLE every time she leaves for school and then gets to run back to FOUR PEOPLE when she gets out of school. Family. Love. That’s what life is supposed to be about.

My sister and brother-in-law even picked up my kid this past Friday when my husband and I went out of town for a night to celebrate our 10 year anniversary (how has it been this long, what the hell!), so uh…yeah.

Lucky. Lucky. So damn lucky.

I’m sorry that I sound like a V.C. Andrews protagonist right now.

Work, (School Mom) Bitch

The major downside of being a working mom of a school-age child is that you NEVER GET TO SLEEP IN ANYMORE. You see, before, when I didn’t work, my 5-year-old would wake up and do whatever the hell she wanted until I felt like rolling my ass out of bed.

Now I get up at the “butthole of dawn” (my manager’s phrase, not mine!, though I wish I came up with it). I put my face half-on. Then I wake up my kid. I make her breakfast and get her to put together an outfit appropriate for the weather because she NEVER wears the right clothes for the weather and always comes downstairs in fucking shorts and a tank top when it’s frosty AF out there, or vice versa. THEN I put together my own Instagram-worthy outfit for work and THEN I wake up my son and throw some clothes on him.

THEN my parents come over to look after my son while I’m at work and we all walk uphill to the school together (because they like the exercise and the extra family time, I guess?), we drop off my daughter and then I RUN LIKE HELL to catch the bus to get to work on time.

I work 5 hours, run to catch the bus, get to the school, pick up the kid and head on home. Then my parents abandon me and I’m left to fend for myself until my husband comes home.

Is This “Self Care”?

I no longer have those late nights that the writer half of me thrived on to get work done. And I no longer have those small gaps in the day when my son is napping to churn out a blog post or two.

All I get now is a solo bath after dinner. “Self-care”. Which I do a pretty garbage job at, considering that I often spend those baths watching political commentary on the current political and economic hellscape that we’re all living in. Mostly I like to watch Kyle Kulinski because I think he’s hot and I think watching hot political commentators is like some kind of happy medium when it comes to consuming politics during bathtime, but geez.

I never get a lot of calm anymore. Any time to breathe a sigh of relief. No time to get my thoughts down.

AS I’M WRITING THIS AT 9PM on a school night, I just realized that I need to make my daughter’s stupid dumb lunch.

Well:

Boom. Carrots. Ritz crackers. A homemade Rice Krispie square. Orange juice. And meatballs. Because for some reason she likes plain old meatballs. Because they taste like meat.

When #MOMLIFE and #WRITERLIFE Collide Again!

I took to writing about this subject once before, but that was back when I was still on maternity leave. Now, well, I’m lucky if I have time to write. Now I often find myself so mentally bogged that I barely have any time to write once the kids are asleep, my husband goes to bed, it’s nearly 10PM and I have like…maybe an hour to write?

I can’t fucking write.

Because of the politics and the fact that my brain is torn in too many different directions. I do find myself slipping into moments of mental escape. I have found myself conjuring up stories with no time to write them. The ideas slip through all the mental cracks. I started writing some of them.

Some nights I even go a little manic and churn out a few thousand words or so. But then another clogged day hits and my momentum stalls. The breaks hit. The story sits in an open unsaved document. Waiting for me. Needing me to complete it.

Little Children

I remember reading Tom Perotta’s Little Children in my late teens and connecting with the protagonist, Sarah, in the playground. Much like my spirit mom Sharon Morris in Catastrophe, she finds herself unable to really connect with the other parents. And yet, she engages in the gossip. She goes “back to high school” in a way, giving in to the banter, and even giving to the dare to hug the attractive dad across the yard.

And I won’t lie, being outside (because Covid, yo) waiting for my kid to get out of school and bantering with the other moms (because the dads basically keep to themselves, honestly) really gives me Little Children vibes. And not in a bad way.

It takes me back to being a kid in a way. That insecurity. That need to fit in? Not to mention that need to connect with the parents of the kids who will inevitably become my kid’s best friends, rivals, lovers? I remember being a kid myself, happy that my friends’ parents were friends, or so it seemed.

I try my best to bust out of my shell and talk. Mingle. Ask how the other parents are doing. It’s hard. I’m always second-guessing myself, thinking I’m always over-dressed. Thinking that I look pretentious AF. Thinking that I look as though I can’t handle shit with my parents though. I worry about everyyyyyything.

A little side-story:

The funny thing about this is that one of my old elementary school friends is now a mother who waits outside the school to pick up her son. I didn’t recognize her at first. She didn’t recognize me either. She recognized my parents.

I felt awful asking for a name to kickstart my memory. But holy shit, has this been so strange and eye-opening. She has a son my daughter’s age, and a daughter a could years older than my son. She lives down the street from me. Like me, she is also obsessed with Halloween and her yard is also jam-packed with spooky decorations.

We’ve talked of elementary school often. Of what we thought. Of the boys we dated. Of where our old friends have gone and achieved. I’ve enjoyed these weird nostalgic talks and the things I can pull from them, reconnecting with my old self while connecting that same me to my daughter’s current experiences.

Most of her school days are still pretty mundane in terms of the things that might come her way in school, but she still has Kindergarten trials and talks to me of them. I do my best to express empathy and suggest ways she can learn from her experiences, improve on herself, understand herself.

Intro to #SCHOOLMOMLIFE

And well, this is where I am. Recently a cold passed through a school. My daughter got it. Then my son did. And even though my immune system kicks ass, I got it pretty good.

Everything happens so fast.

Sometimes, like fiction, life is strange and connects (or reconnects) you with people you wouldn’t think of.

So that’s been the first month of my whole “school mom” experience. ONe thing I have loved most about it is the walks to school in the morning. Once winter hits it’s gonna be a real hit, but this week in particular has done a real number on my psyche in terms of feeling the fall experience.

When I went to work day after day, I didn’t have time to enjoy the gloomy fog, the crunchy leaves, the brisk air. This past week I had to call in sick at work for several days (because again, COVID) but because school mom life knows no bounds, I still gotta walk my kid to school. But now, walking to school, I feel like elementary school me gets to relive all that good fall shit. All because I’m a school mom.

See, there are some perks!

Note:

For those readers not in Canada, the sneaker picture on this header image is a reference to Terry Fox, a man who lost his leg to cancer and then ran the “Marathon of Hope” across Canada for cancer research in 1980. 2020 is the 50th anniversary of the Marathon of Hope.

Canadian students run their own small runs every September to honour Terry’s mission and raise money for cancer research. He’s one of the most inspiring Canadians in history and you can learn more about him and the Terry Fox Foundation as well.

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Everyday BDSM Looks

Bondage-inspired looks have snuck into the mainstream enough that one might see them on the runway or in magazines or your Etsy searches. But are they wearable in real life? I often see BDSM elements worn over white button-up tops, but how realistic are BDSM pieces in everyday ensembles?

Very much so, but probably only if you’re willing to step slightly out of your comfort zone.

As a goth at heart, I try to add a little edge to most of my outfits. It took me a lot to start wearing that gothic heart on my sleeve without feeling ridiculous but I’ve done it enough times to share photos on this fashion post. Once I started, I found myself more comfortable with it.

So here are some of my favourite everyday BDSM looks for you to try.

Utilize a Corset Belt

I bought this corset belt from Retro Luxe on clearance from ASOS for a Sansa Stark Halloween costume and lemme just tell you, this belt has changed me as a person. Might sound frivolous but it’s a wonderful piece that ads a LOT to the outfits that I wear it with.

It’s funny because most of the time corset belts are shown over a white tunic, which looks great, but doesn’t exactly show a versatility of the piece. I’ve used my corset belt for a myriad of ensembles.

Like this look, which is a cool bondage Christmas look I wore to a church Christmas event that took place on a Friday the 13th, so I HAD to do something goth but also sort of church-appropriate:

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A post shared by Rebecca Jones-Howe (@rebeccajoneshowe) on Dec 13, 2019 at 10:53pm PST

Or this look, which is an early-fall look I put together for work, which made these 80s era vintage separates look goth AF:

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A post shared by Rebecca Jones-Howe (@rebeccajoneshowe) on Sep 28, 2020 at 3:13pm PDT

Or this summer look, which was definitely sweaty but also somehow seasonally appropriate:

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A post shared by Rebecca Jones-Howe (@rebeccajoneshowe) on Sep 3, 2020 at 3:55pm PDT

A Leather Skirt Goes A Long Way

I don’t know why leather always grabs so much attention. But it does. And it does in a big way. I’ve been fortunate to find a handful of great leather skirts on my thrift store excursions and I like to wear them whenever I can.

Yes, they are sweaty and kind of awkward to wear in public, but if you want to give your outfit some edge without too much effort, a leather skirt will take you far, baby.

I wore this outfit to church. The sweater is a classic 80s look, but it looks even more amazing with this leather skirt that I can imagine Mrs. Wardwell from Chilling Adventures of Sabrina wearing in Hell:

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A post shared by Rebecca Jones-Howe (@rebeccajoneshowe) on Feb 23, 2020 at 2:45pm PST

And I’d say this look is pretty cutesy, but the leather skirt def gives it an edge. I really love pairing this leather mini with my polka-dot tights.

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A post shared by Rebecca Jones-Howe (@rebeccajoneshowe) on Mar 12, 2020 at 4:41pm PDT

Give ‘Em a Peek of A Harness

So you can get those stretchy lingerie-style harness pretty cheap anywhere. Or a funky cage bra. While these pieces make for great bedroom attire, they also can work as great layering pieces beneath low-cut shirts, adding extra dimension and edge to what would otherwise be a “normal” outfit.

In this look I also added a little vintage clip-on broach to make kind of a blended 90s’s/Victorian/bondage look that I thought was pretty funky.

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A post shared by Rebecca Jones-Howe (@rebeccajoneshowe) on Aug 11, 2020 at 1:41pm PDT

Harness Belt Over Clothes

So here’s your standard BDSM element used as “everyday” attire. The harness over a buttonfront top.

You can buy cheap pleather harnesses all over the place now. I picked this one up from Poshmark and it was some made in China knockoff made for a svelte woman. So it didn’t QUITE fit. I’d also advise against buying cheap stuff because it never lasts and never funtions well. This one slid alllllllllll the fuck over the place.

So I modified it a bit with one of my silver necklaces and wore it over one of my favourite shift dresses. This was my first attempt to do the whole harness thing and I think it looks okay. I’m on a lookout for a better harness that fits but it at least inspired me to try more BDSM harness everyday looks.

My next harness will likely be from DEANDRI, which is a vegan US-based gothic designer brand that I’m dying to get some stuff from.

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A post shared by Rebecca Jones-Howe (@rebeccajoneshowe) on Sep 21, 2020 at 4:24pm PDT

Do You Dare to Wear BDSM Everyday?

Now, I realize that BDSM isn’t exactly the most accesable or “normal” trend, but its edgy asthestic is become more trendy than ever. I think some of that comes from our current state of affairs, where that whole Matrix / Mad Max sort of “doomsday” vibe is now working its way into our everyday ensembles.

Fashion speaks of the times and I’m down with expressing a little bit of angst with all my floral print.

But what about you? Whether or not BDSM is your thing, does the style intrigue you? What everyday BDSM looks would (or do you currently) rock?

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GATES OF PARADISE: A Grown-Ass V.C. Andrews Review

It’s time to follow the new generation of Casteels or Stonewalls or Tattertons or whatever in Gates of Paradise, the fourth book in the now confusingly-named Casteel series by V.C. Andrews. I was really excited to read this one but most of the Goodreads reviews fell pretty lackluster. So let’s give Gates of Paradise the Grown-Ass V.C. Andrews Review, shall we?

STUNNED BY TRAGEDY, DESPERATE AND ALONE, HEAVEN’S DAUGHTER CLUNG TO THE FRAILEST OF DREAMS!

The car crash that killed Heaven and Logan left Annie Casteel Stonewall orphaned and crippled. Whisked off to Farthinggale Manor by the possessive Tony Tatterton, Annie pines for her lost family, but especially for Luke, her half-brother. Friend of her childhood, her fantasy prince, her loving confidante…without the warm glow of Luke’s love, she is lost in the shadows of despair. When Annie discovers Troy’s cottage hidden in Farthinggale’s woods, the mystery of her past deepens. And even as she yearns to see Luke again, her hopes and dreams are darkened by the sinister Casteel spell…treacherous, powerful and evil!

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About Gates of Paradise

Published in 1989, Gates of Paradise continues the story of the Tatterton’s (not so much the Casteel’s), following Heaven’s daughter Annie Stonewall. Like I mentioned in my review of Midnight Whispers, these 4th “spawn” books always fall short, continuing the family BS on with the next generation, retelling the same old family secrets while trying to make them shocking again.

One thing I will say about Gates of Paradise is that it at least doesn’t attempt to cram three books of plot into one.

It is, however, Andrew Neiderman’s second attempt to write like Virginia herself. Fallen Hearts failed. Maybe he redeems himself?

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My Copy of Gates of Paradise

I got my copy from a local used bookstore. While the numbers claim it to be a first edition, it features no holographic elements, which is a standard first-edition feature of V.C. Andrews books. I looked online and can’t seem to find a proper photo of holographic Gates of Paradise. Did the publisher just go the cheap road with this one? Did they not expect to sell as many?

There are questions I cannot find answers to.

Anyway, my edition was in pretty great shape. Then I read it. It’s a little dog-eared now. I creased a couple portions of the spine. I realize now that mas-market paperbacks are meant to tell stories about the readers who read them. I’m sorry I judged you all. I really tried.

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So this stepback is a real sausage party. We’ve got Annie in the middle, with half-brother Luke getting a bit too close on the left, and then cousin? Drake on the right. Tony is super old now, seated on the chair in the front.

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Gates of Paradise: The Grown-Ass Review

Friends, I dove into this book. Typically the “spawn” books flop in the V.C. Andrews universe but this book contained the big mansion, the wheelchair-bound protag, the incest. Gates of Paradise promised to deliver everything that V.C. Andrews is known for in a BIG way.

But does it deliver?

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An Innocent & Pretty, Yet Completely Naive Female Protagonist

Meet Annie Stonewall, a fresh-faced 18 year-old obsessed with the big mansion (Farthinggale Manor, or Farthy) that her mother used to live in. She spends most of her time painting this mansion that she’s never seen. She also paints her half-brother Luke. A lot. Her cousin Drake mocks her for this for good reason. Because her relationship with her brother is weird AF:

Luke’s eyes widened and a smile rippled across his soft lips. He knew what that tone in my voice meant. We were about to play the fantasy game, to let our imaginations wander recklessly about and be unafraid to say what other seventeen-and-eighteen-year-old teenagers would find silly.

But the game was more than that. When we played it, we could say things to each other that we were afraid to say otherwise. I could be his princess and he my prince. We could tell each other what we felt in our hearts, pretending it wasn’t us but imaginary people who were speaking. Neither of us blushed or looked away.

page 11

Annie lives in a mansion in the Willies. The book opens on her 18th birthday where she gets a dumb convertible and dumb fancy bracelet and a gorgeous little model cottage from her mother. She speaks in that too-delicate girly way full of hopes and dreams.

I wanted to enjoy this. The naivete looked promising here, promised that horrible things were about to befall Annie.

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A Tragic Death

As with most V.C. Andrews “spawn” books, things kick off with a big party and a horrible incident that kills the protagonist’s parents. Gates of Paradise gives us an even better blow-up when Logan (who we already know from the first three books to be a giant douche-nozzle) gets absolutely plastered at the Aunt Fanny’s 40th birthday party.

Aunt Fanny obviously flirts and dances with Logan, which infuriates Heaven to no end. Heaven gets all bitter-sister and gathers up the family to leave, for some reason allowing the inebriated Logan to drive them all home even though he can barely get the key into the ignition.

Right as they leave a horrible rainstorm washes over the the roads, because obviously. The car approaches a sharp turn when another vehicle swerves around the corner.

I heard Mother scream and felt the car swerve to the right. Then I felt the brakes lock.

The last things I remember was Mommy’s shrill scream and my daddy’s now instantly sobered voice call out my name.

“Annie… Annie… Annie…”

page 67

They dead.

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A Rags to Riches Plot

This point doesn’t go anywhere because Annie starts off Gates of Paradise all rich and privileged. It takes a bit of reverse angle here when she wakes up in the hospital without the ability to use her legs. Conveniently enough, her injury has nothing to do with her spine and something to do with her brain being unable to make her legs work.

Utter bullshit, I know.

“I’m so sorry, my poor, poor Annie. Heaven’s beautiful daughter, Leigh’s granddaughter,” he muttered as he kissed my forehead and gently pushed back strands of my hair. “But you won’t be alone; you’ll never be alone. I’m here now, and I’ll always be here for you as long as I live.”

page 71

Forgot to mention, Annie wakes up with creepy-ass Tony Tatterton at her bedside!

He kisses her cheek and forehead SEVERAL TIMES while explaining that her parents are dead, that he’s hired all the best doctors and nurses to help her, and that he plans on moving her to Farthinggale Manor to help her heal. Because OF COURSE she can regain her ability to walk, which is honestly gross and stupid and an insult of a plot gimmick.

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A Vivid Gothic Setting

We take a few chapters giving Annie the chance to say goodbye to Luke and Aunt Fanny (who now plays a sympathetic character). Annie gets introduced to her nurse, Mrs. Broadfield, and then gets some expositional pages to get over the death of her pReCiOuS aNd PeRfEcT LyFeEeEeEe!!!!

I was being ripped out of my world, torn from the people and places I loved and cherished and identified with. There would be no magnolia trees, no sweet scents of fresh flowers blossoming on the street as I walked to school. There would be no magic gazebo, no tiny cottage music box playing Chopin.

page 83

I often wonder what kind of thought process Neidermen goes through when writing this kind of crap. Sure, the 80s female aesthetic proved DEFINED by a delicate and dainty ideal of a woman, but like… geez dude. Granted, even I find myself getting sucked into the “romanticism” of passages like this, but the saccharine melodrama just comes off ridiculous when this kind of stuff appears at every second wall of text.

Anyway, Annie spends several days in the hospital before finally agreeing to stay with Tony at Farthy. She falls asleep repeatedly, because injured women always fall asleep when they’re weak and unable to cope with things. Then she wakes as she’s driven up the driveway of Farthinggale Manor in its now dilapidated state:

The grounds were overgrown and unkempt, bushes untrimmed and flower beds overrun with weeds.

The house was as breathtaking in size as Luke and I had drempt it would be, but it looked like it hadn’t been lived in for years and years. Wherever there was wooding siding or trim, it was peeling and cracked. The house looked gray and cold, the windows dark, the curtains closed like the eyelids of a dying old woman.

page 139

And hey, this is what I came for!

Unfortunately, most of Annie’s time spent at Farthy is within the confines of Heaven’s old room, which I imagine is her first room and not the suite that Tony brutally had renovated in horrendous 80s-style for Heaven and Logan in Fallen Hearts.

The room looked as though it had been left as it was the day my mother departed. Silver-framed photographs sat on the long dressing table, some standing, some facedown. A hairbrush lay on its side. A pair of wine-red velvet slippers were tucked under the chair by the table, slippers that matched the robe Tony had brought me at the hospital. Was it a new robe, as I had through, or had he taken it from these very closets?

page 148

Now, what I will admit to is the nice use of foreshadowing. It’s decently crafted, though it’s also not as though we DON’T expect Tony to pull some nasty rape-y stuff, because, of course, this is a V.C. Andrews novel. Nevertheless, I appreciate the manner that Annie slowly learns that Tony is a disgusting incestuous pervert.

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A Beloved Doting Paternal Figure

Because she cannot walk and remains confined to a bed of a chair, Annie spends a majority of her time looking out the window. One day, notices this man in the Tatterton family cemetery:

Suddenly I saw a man appear as if out of the air. He must have been standing off in a shadow. I leaned as close to the window as I could and gazed at the figure made small by the distance. At first I thought it might be Luke, but as my eyes focused in more accurately, I realized he was a taller, thinner man.

He stepped up to the monument and stared at it for the longest time. Then he dropped to his knees. I could see him lower his head, and although I was much too far away to be sure, I even though I could see his body shudder with sobs.

Who was he? It wasn’t Tony, although there was something about the frame of his body that reminded me of Tony.

page 171

Well duh, It’s Troy, who is Annie’s real father, but we still have another hundred or so pages to read before Annie discovers this fact. Even then, and yes, I’m spoiling the ending, their meeting is LACKLUSTER AF! Troy literally just pretends to be a nice dude in his dumb cottage and takes like a decade and a half before he finally tells her that he’s her fucking father. He just lurks in and out of the shadows.

Troy sucks, okay? He sucks. He’s not mysterious. He’s dumb and narcissistic and lacks all emotion.

Now, let’s get to Tony:

Tony found me asleep in my wheelchair by the window. I woke when I felt him wheeling me back to the bed.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to wake you. You looked so beautiful, like a sleeping princess. I was just about to be the prince and kiss you to wake you,” he said warmly, his eyes bright.

page 173

The book pretty much contains scenes of his variety. For a pervert, most of Tony’s “obsessed affection” falls along cheesy sentiments and some not-so-harmless hair touching and kissing, which was all too commonplace in the 80s.

BUT WAIT! The 80s was when Heaven was a teen. Annie is now 18, which means that Gates of Paradise takes place in the mid-aughts. And I just gotta address this issue because it’s a long-withstanding one across many of the early V.C. Andrews books. The passage of time never changes culture. These books remain firmly tethered in the 80s, which is just kind of a weird reality that I found myself struggling to adjust to.

Annie very slowly discovers that Tony isn’t quite himself. He forgets things, brings odd things to her to wear, including the Jasmine perfume that Jillian and Leigh wore. Annie remains perpetually tired around Tony, and eventually realizes that he’s drugging her to remain asleep.

Eventually Tony persuades (ahem, pressures) Annie into dying her hair blond to match Heaven when Heaven attempted to look like her mother, Leigh.

“All of you run together in my mind sometimes… as if you are not three, but one woman, Leigh, Heaven, and now you, so similar in voice, in demeanor, in looks. You’re like sisters, triplets, instead of mothers and daughters,” he said softly, hopefully.

page 201

At one point, Tony gives Annie a proper tour of the house, finally bringing her to the suite Heaven briefly shared with Logan. Annie wonders why the room looks abandoned. She prods at Tony to explain why it appears that Heaven fled Farthy, and, as usual, Tony gives with his long-winded sob story bullshit about trying to win Heaven away from Luke (Heaven’s not bio-dad but the dad she craved the attention of). He goes into all the bribing circus details from Dark Angel but of course holds back from the attempted rape.

Annie, clearly troubled, says she doesn’t hate Tony but needs time to process things.

Like…why, Annie? The fuck is wrong with you?

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A Hostile Maternal Figure (+ Bonus Mean Girl!)

For the mean girl, we get Mrs. Broadfield, who is Annie’s personal nurse and caretaker. She is qualified to be neither, seeing that she has the bedside manner of a Target Karen.

Here’s a scene in the hospital that takes place shortly after Annie learns that her parents are dead:

“Try to sleep, Annie,” Mrs. Broadfield said, jerking me out of my reverie. “Lying there and crying will only make you weaker and weaker, and you have many battles ahead to fight, believe me.”

page 84

Mrs. Broadfield bitchily does her nurse-ly duties, giving Annie massages, baths, and helping her dress and transfer from her bed to her chair over and over. Many times throughout the book, Annie feels pins and needles in her legs and tries to relay this into to Mrs. Broadfild, who insists every time that the return of feeling is just “her imagination”.

Clearly, Mrs. Broadfield must be asking under Tony’s orders, keeping Annie bed-ridden and confined to a room. Then Annie gets rebellious, sometimes leaving the room to investigate the house, and also asking the Farthy cook, Rye Williams, to make her some spicy food. Mrs. Broadfield RETALIATES in true V.C. Andrews fashion:

She took the tray and left. I took the remote control and turned on the television set. I settled on a movie I had never seen and sat back, but what seemed to be only minutes later a sharp pain stabbed across my abdomen. I groaned and pressed my palms against my belly. The pain ceased and I sat back, taking deep breaths; but then it came again, this time with a great deal more ferocity, tearing up and down my stomach and sending pain into my chest.

I hear my stomach bubble. I knew that I was going to have an accident any moment.

“Mrs. Broadfield!” I called. “Mrs. Broadfield!” I screamed. But she didn’t respond. I stared to wheel myself toward the doorway. “Mrs. Broadfield!”

It was happening. My body was rebelling.

page 268

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Incest!

Well, eventually Annie manages to convince Tony to fire Mrs. Broadfield for putting laxatives in her food. This would be great if it weren’t for the fact that Tony becomes Annie’s replacement nurse.

Fortunately, he does give her some canvasses and paint to occupy her time, but he still hesitates when she asks to have a phone in her room so she can call Luke (who is now at college and who Drake insists is plowing a bunch of coeds.) Annie manages to stand for the first time, but when she relays this to Tony and asks him to call the doctor.

The worst part is when he insists on giving Annie a bath, which culminates in his HORRIBLE AWFUL SCENE THAT I WILL NEVER UNREAD of Annie’s grandfather-uncle helping her get her knickers on:

“I can do this, Tony.” I reached for my panties, but he simply lifted my feet and slipped the undergarment over my ankles, moving it up my legs slowly, his gaze fixed, his fingers never toughing my skin. When he reached my thighs, he stopped and came behind me. There was no stopping him. Using his forearms, he lifted me just enough to pull the panties into place.

page 298

Anyway, Tony does get a stair-lift installed and Annie eventually picks up enough strength to get into her own chair and ventures outside to the infamous hedgemaze, where she meets up with Troy. Long story short, Heaven learns all the ins and outs of his relationship with her mother. Upon returning to the manor, Annie finds a frantic Tony, who responds by going hyper-overprotective, keeping her confined to her room by moving her wheelchair out of reach entirely.

THEN:

We get to the rape scene, because that’s pretty much what this entire book working toward. Tony walks into Annie’s room at night. Absolutely wasted, he mistakes pretends that Annie is Leigh.

For a long moment he didn’t move or say anything and I thought I had gotten through to him, but then he untied his bathrobe and let it drop to the floor. In the dim light spilling in from the sitting room, I could see that he was completely naked.

page 341

Skipping ahead a bit:

“Oh Leigh… Leigh, my darling Leigh.” His hand groped about until he found my left wrist and began to pull me toward him. I tried to resist, but I was so tired, I could barely put up a struggle. I was sure he was taking that as a form of encouragement. “We’ll make love through the night, just as we did before, and if you want, you can call me Daddy.”

page 342

Thankfully, we only have to barf our way through one more page before Annie finally gets Tony to recognize reality. He puts his robe back on and then waltzes into the room the next morning with no memory that he tried to rape his granddaughter-niece. He tries to get her to have to sedatives but then she unleashes hell.

Eventually Luke finally arrives in too-late white knight style. Annie screams for him from her room but Tony manages to push him away, which doesn’t matter because the true G.O.A.T hero of the Casteel series, Fanny, comes back the next day to save Annie.

Turns out Troy wasn’t entirely useless and called Fanny to rescue Annie. But why in the FUCK didn’t Troy get off his hermit ass and save his own daughter himself? He’s worse than Logan.

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Fantastic Psychological Horror

Gates of Paradise wraps the final few chapters with Annie’s returns to Winnerow. She regains the ability to walk, withholds her lust for Luke, and then finds Troy’s secret love note hidden in a compartment in the stupid toy cottage.

Troy then calls Annie to tell her that Tony died from a stroke. Annie decides to go to the funeral, despite Aunt Fanny’s WISE ADVICE:

“No one know’d he was yer grandpappy, Annie. No one expects ya ta travel all the way ta see ‘im buried.”

“I know who he was, Aunt Fanny. I cant forget him and hate him. He did try to help me in his own way.”

“That place is poison. All them rich people destroy themselves one way or t’other. Not that I don’t want ta be rich; it’s jist the way those beantown phonies lived, thinkin’ they was better’n everyone else. Makes them mad as hatters. I wish ya’d change yer mind ‘ bout it.”

– page 426

Long story short, Annie realizes deludes herself into believing that Tony was just a love-struck man with his heart bent on his step-daughter and… forgives him? All the other confined psychological horror aside, this is what takes the cake.

Then, FINALLY, on page 440 of the 443 pages in the book, Annie finally learns that Troy is her dad:

“Believe me, I agonized over telling you all this, for I feared you would think less of your mother because of it, but I finally concluded Heaven would have wanted me to tell you so that you and Luke would not lose one another as she and I did.”

So Troy was scared to tell his own daughter that he was her dad because he worried that Annie would think that Heaven was a slut? And the only thing that finally convinced him to confess the truth was that he didn’t want Annie to feel slutty by lusting after her half-brother?

I just…I can’t, y’all.

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Some Good Olde School Misogyny

Like many V.C. Andrews protagonists, Annie is no stranger to beauty ideals. Her judgement rings true during the scenes with Mrs. Broadfield. Now, I get that her character is rightfully horrible, but her appearance also becomes a part of this aspect of her character, which is cringe-worthy. In this first interaction, Mrs. Broadfield gives Annie a juice box:

“Just suck gently,” she advised, adjusting my bed so I was in a sitting position. Her short, stubby fingers and large palms reeked of rubbing alcohol. This close to me, I could see the tiny black hairs peeking out the bottom of her round chin. I wanted my mother, my beautiful, loving, sweet-smelling mother to be the one taking care of me, not this ugly stranger.

page 77

It gets worse:

I took one more suck on the straw and then handed her the juice. She pressed her lips together, her rubbery face filled with annoyance. When I looked more closely at her, I saw how pocked her skin was and wondered why a nurse would have such a poor complexion.

page 77

Later, at Farthinggale Manor, Annie meets the maid, a young woman named Millie who promptly gets fired later when she tries to send a letter to Luke. While Millie is portrayed as a sweet and very likable woman, this is Annie’s first impression of her:

She turned and gave me a warm smile. She was a plain-faced woman with dull brown eyes, a rather round chin, and puffy cheeks. I imagined that because she was cursed with a dumpy body, a small bosom, and hips so wide that they made her look like a church bell, she was doomed to be a domestic servant, always cleaning and polishing in someone else’s house.

page 148

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Some Really Bad Writing

I want address the obviously offensive plot point of Gates of Paradise. Annie loses her ability to walk. For a majority of this book, she remains paralyzed from the waist down. This puts Annie out of her comfort zone, and also acts at the mechanism which ultimately keeps her kidnapped at Farthinggale Manor. This is the ultimate adversity that she must overcome, and it shouldn’t be.

Annie doesn’t actively work to break the “curse” that plagues the tatterton family. Rather, it’s the curse that plagues her legs, and she’s fortunate enough to have some magical temporary paralysis she has to overcome on her own.

You know, unlike real life spinal paralysis, which real people live with every day.

Here is Annie, facing her wheelchair for the first time:

I lay there staring at the chair, realizing that it and I would have to become good friends. Although Tony had gone to great effort to make it look like an ordinary chair, a comfortable chair, he couldn’t hide its true purpose. I was an invalid, a cripple sentenced to dependence on other people and mechanical aids. All the money and all the expensive help in the world couldn’t change that. Only I could ever change that; and I was determined to do so.

page 130

I mean, she could have just stayed away from her pervert granddaddy uncle and she would have been fine, but sure, blame medical advances for your life woes, Annie.

Wheelchair-bound characters are a V.C. Andrews staple and I suppose Annie is no different, although she does get to be a “nOrMaL g1rL” again, which is kind of insulting. I realize that Becky (the Barbie with a wheelchair) didn’t come out until 1997, and thus, no girl who required a wheelchair for mobility could have any semblance of self-esteem until then (being sarcastic here!), but GAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!

Regaining the use of her legs is pretty much Annie’s only adversity this entire book. She’s kidnapped, abused, nearly raped, and yes, does manage to escape the confines of her room. It’s actually the best moment of the book, quite honestly, is Annie working with this new piece of her identity to get out of a tough situation.

Still, even when her captor dies, she forgives him and CURSES HER LEGS FOR NOT WORKING YET. It’s not until she walks in front of Luke that she finally works through her trauma. Now, I can be impartial and recognize this for the “book published in 1989” that it is, BUT I just wish that her paralysis could have been legit and that she worked through her new struggle with her family alongside her.

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Gates of Paradise : My Final Thoughts

Well, Gates of Paradise came with a great premise. It promised true horrors and couldn’t deliver. Most V.C. Andrews books trudge along with bullying and abuse, but at least those scenes move between school and home and other places. Gates of Paradise confines it all to a bedroom.

I liked the deteriorated house, and the lore of Faththinggale Manor does hold some weight through the narrative, but yeah, that’s about it. Halfway in, I about lost interest with Annie’s whining and Tony’s endless puppy dog sad whining and Troy’s do-nothing depressing garbage.

It’s easily the worst book in the series.

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When It’s Time To Stop Writing

I spent the other night watching storm-chaser livestream footage of Hurricane Laura. It triggered my childhood obsession with natural disasters. I know I’m not the only one who loved tornado documentaries on Discovery Channel. Now, though? You can get all the natural disaster coverage you want online. You can live inside hurricanes forever.

Last night I indulged in my weird childhood need to live on the edge of terror, while also remembering fondly my love of that scene from All That Glitters by V.C. Andrews where Ruby Landry gives birth to her baby in the middle of a hurricane. I specifically remember the eye part. The quiet. That calm. Last night I got to hang out in the eye of a hurricane, eyes heavy, falling asleep on my uncomfortable guest room bed.

Being in the eye still means there’s chaos. Wind still blows. Debris still flies. It’s just not as bad as what came before and what came after. Which is where I’m at with my writing.

All this to say: I’m ceasing Patreon.

It’s time to stop writing. Short stories anyway. I wanted to write them all year long, and admitting that it’s just not in me anymore was tough. I had a mission and I wanted to stick to it. I hate failing.

But fail I must. And maybe you should fail too. If your project is taking the life out of you, then maybe it’s time to stop writing.

It’s Time to Stop Writing When You Don’t Have Time to Live in Fiction

I started this month off with a great story idea. It took place in Tofino. It incorporated some BDSM elements. It was emotionally dark. I also made the best and most kickass playlist for it, which I listened to endlessly on my bus rides to and from work.

I wrote 6500 words of it in about a week. And then? Well, this was the entirety of August:

I have a 6500 word first draft of a story to finish in a four days and literally no desire to work on it. I just can’t. I can’t do it. I hate everything. What the fuck happened to me?

— Rebecca Jones-Howe (@rjoneshowe) August 27, 2020

I don’t really have an answer. But while I was excited about the idea, I wasn’t excited about the execution, otherwise known as spending time inside my story.

Writing ceased to feel like an escape. It became a choir. Typically in the high moments of writing, I’m imagining my story constantly, brainstorming while working, hearing my characters tell me things during those quiet moments of the day.

The last few stories I’ve written have been the opposite of that. And sure, I wrote some stories, even one that I really friggin’ loved, but there comes a point where the joy gets completely sucked out and I feel like a fucking husk hooked up to some guilt machine that sucks what little imagination I have left to put on a page.

I need to reinvigorate my brain again, because my ideas are the complete opposite of WAP right now.

It’s Time to Stop Writing When Real Life Sucks Losers Dry

Yes, this is a Heathers quote, but it’s true about life.

Between work and #momlife and dreading putting my daughter into kindergarten in the peak of Covid and actually enjoying my stupid garbage retail job (WHO KNEW THIS WOULD HAPPEN?!), I didn’t have any time to write.

Maybe not so much to write, but to spend in my head, making up stories. The space did not exist. The end of the night was meant for sleeping. And ONLY sleeping. Because even reading put me to sleep before I could turn a page.

My writer friend Bill suggested I take some fucking time off. I told him that I couldn’t, because, well, August was ending and I still didn’t have a story for Patreon.

And I hate to say it, but Patreon is too much of a commitment. I keep thinking back to the tense moments of the HBO documentary, I’ll Be Gone in the Dark, when Michelle McNamara finds herself in the tension of her upcoming deadline, and starts taking drugs to dull her mind from the horrific research she must do to finish her book.

She agonized that she wasn’t spending enough time with her family. She isolated herself. The paranoia got the best of her. And damn if that doesn’t scare me for my potential future of having a legit deadline that I CANNOT BREAK.

That documentary really hit me hard as a writer.

In this case, with Patreon, I gave myself the fucking break. Because I could take it. Because I needed it. And you know, I feel better now.

It’s Time to Stop Writing When There are Bigger and Better Things to Do

So that story I told you about? It became a beast. If you support me on Patreon, you probably noticed that most of the pieces I wrote were longer than my former works. Honestly, I tried to write shorter stories. They just weren’t there.

Maybe it’s the experience of writing my first novel. The format changed me. I wanted deeper stories. More complex issues. More characters. Longer scenes. One day I’d love to go back to shorter forms, but right now, I’m delving deep into writing novels.

And this story, it’s the prequel to what I hope will be my second novel.

I plan on writing it and posting it for my Patreon followers. Then, in 2021, I’ll self-publish it as an ebook. Why? Because Vile Men is out of print and I need something out there for people to buy.

It’s Time To Stop Writing When You Need to Write More

Am I quitting? I don’t know. When I started Patreon, I hoped to really see what I could build. I got myself 8 lovely supporters, which isn’t a lot, but really fucking meant a lot to me, considering that I’m just a no-name writer who published a short story collection over 5 years ago.

I wanted to make money off it, but sadly it didn’t prove a fruitful venture. What it DID succeed at doing was pushing me out of my comfort zone. I wrote some different stuff. I loved most of it. And I want to thank all my supporters for what you gave me, which was a nice stick that pushed me into a mud.

But now? It’s time to stop writing. Short stories, anyway. I love short fiction but I’ve had a novel boiling in me this entire time.

My supporters will get the novella. Then I will move onto the novel. Which is going to be dark. And witchy. And sexy. It will also incorporate characters featured in this story, and a character from this free story, and involves my new obsession as well.

I’ll probably change up my Patreon to share progress on the novel. Scenes. Research. Character stuff. Struggles. Not sure if that’s what people are interested in, but I can be candid.

I need those sticks. Keep pushing me. I hope I’ll keep you entertained.

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LOVECRAFT COUNTRY Review: “Holy Ghost”

If you’re anything like me and you struggled a bit with the last episode of Lovecraft Country, then this third installment, titled “Holy Ghost”, might throw you for a bit of a loop. “Whitey’s on the Moon” killed George and sent our reset group of protagonists, Atticus, Leti, and Montrose, back to Chicago with a fake story to explain to the family members back home.

George was shot by a police officer, Hippolyta rationalizes while Atticus and Diana set up the breakfast table. With some dialogue, we realize that it’s “weeks later” and things have somewhat returned to normal. Even Atticus flips the mugs upside own after washing the dishes the same way George did, and this proves unsettling to her. She knows something is wrong about Atticus’ story.

Atticus attempts to distill this knowledge to a hungover Montrose, and the father and son establish their relationship Montrose’s AMAZING apartment set. There’s tension, ya’ll.

Anyway, I start here to move things aside to this episode’s main focus, which is a weird detour from Atticus’ plot to Leti. If you want some deeper context on this episode and its references, I suggest checking out the AV Club recaps. They come packed with things a shift-working exhausted viewer like me miss upon my late-night viewings.

What the Hell Am I Watching?

It was tough for me to move from the emotional weight of the second episode and reset to a Chicago reality. After the high-level sophistication of the first episode, I really don’t quite know what kind of tone this show is wanting to take yet. “Holy Ghost” treads down some hardcore 90s horror terrain that I really do appreciate. But again, mixed with the character complexity, the convoluted Atticus storyline, the racial context and the cheesy and very un-HBO-like effects, I just…I don’t know what I’m supposed to expect here?

AV Club commenters who read the source material do suggest that the book has more of a Scooby Doo feel. The book isn’t so much an adventure novel as it is a series of vignettes set in the 1950’s Jim Crow era. It’s puply. Which sounds awesome on paper, right? But it’s complicated when presented as an HBO show.

In what is quite obviously the “Golden Age of Television”, viewers expect complicated characters. They expect high production values. They expect plot-heavy stories. And, they also expect a slow burn. Lovecraft Country has anything but a slow burn, and for me, as a viewer, this is a tough variable to adjust to.

Let’s Get To Know Leti

We start this episode off in church, which I suppose Leti has started attending since coming back to Chicago to properly reconnect with her roots, her family. Mainly, her sister, Ruby.

Leti watches a church member become saturated with the Holy Spirit. The member dances. The congregation celebrates, but Leti sits in the pew, unmoved. Maybe because of the trauma of the previous two episodes, but maybe because, as I mentioned in “Sundown”, she’s a bit of a black sheep.

The House

After the opening credits, she glows and smiles and drags Ruby down a well-to-do neighbourhood on the North end of Chicago that she’s just bought. The house is gorgeous, even in its CGI rundown glory. And for all of us who lived for a good haunted house story as a kid, well, we know a damn haunted house when we see one.

Ruby begs to know where Leti got the money to buy this house, which doesn’t look quite as bad inside as it does outside. No water damage. No sagging floors. But of course, appearances are deceiving. The house has 13 rooms and Leti plans on turning it into a boarding house as a coloured safe-haven. Ruby rightfully understands that this plan isn’t at all possible to achieve in an all-white neighbourhood.

BUT, the house has an elevator, which doesn’t work. Cue the empty shaft, which is one of the creepiest things of any abandoned building. Or TV show. Unlike that one time Don Draper stared down into that foreboding empty shaft in Mad Men, Leti leans into the empty shaft. The elevator plummets down and Ruby saves her just in time, scolding her for breaking the golden rule of empty elevator shaft safety.

Racial Tension Abounds

Leti laughs, but her humour wears thin when the locals (some stereotypical greaser dudes) hoard outside of the house, using noise to threaten them. I gotta ask, though, how the other white neighbours are totally cool with the car horns going off all day and all night? Is this a sacrifice on their part?

Fortunately for a racists, they do have other options to force Leti and Ruby out of the neighbourhood, cranking up the basement boiler overnight. Leti wakes in the morning to a steamy house, but doesn’t fully wake up until after we catch a glimpse of a sheet-snatching ghost. The reveal felt pretty lackluster until she lifted her head fully above the mattress for us to see her messed-up face. It actually did freak me out a bit.

This show really has a Goosebumps / Are You Afraid of the Dark? feel, just with a lot more gore. Most real horror fans would probably see the scares are pretty tame but the pre-teen me is so down for it.

Leti heads downstairs to fix the over-cranked boiler, only to be confronted with all the shadows of the basement. Sounds throb and pound, and Leti follows them to a trap door. Somethings bangs against the boards and frightens her to call Atticus over.

Sexual Tension (Also) Abounds!

Our new fave will they/won’t they couple heads down the trap door at a safe time. Leti insists that something was trying to get out. Atticus believes her, on a count of all the stuff from the first two episodes. They discuss some of the tension while exploring the strange sub-basement room. Leti takes his hand, giving into to that whole terror/turn on thing.

Atticus pulls away and then randomly suggests that the obviously haunted room would make a great dark room. And to this I gotta ask: WHY?

It’s haunted! Leti told you! You believe her!

Atticus plans on going back to Florida. Apparently he told his boss he’d be back a few days after finding his dad, but now it’s weeks later and I’m surprised he still has a boss at all. Leti, however, manages to convince him to attend her killer housewarming party.

It’s at this happening party (which makes me think of how many people would be catching Covid were it happening in modern times) that Atticus hears of Leti’s salacious past. He watches Leti breaking some hardcore social distancing rules by grinding pretty good on a stranger and gets hardcore jealous, dude.

This follows with a pretty hot sex scene. We see a ghost in the bathroom mirror. Then Atticus appears in the doorway, banging Leti good on the sink. It’s the hottest sex scene I’ve seen in a while. It’s full of tension and possession (figurative, not literal), and some nice internalized character stuff. Then the boning ends. Atticus pulls his hand comes away from Leti’s WAP with some blood. She quickly apologizes for not realizing that she was on her period.

Atticus suggests meeting Leti downstairs, leaving her to sob a few tears. I assumed the blood gave her flashbacks of her death in the previous episode, but this tiny scene is a bit more layered than I originally thought. (I’ll discuss in my stray thoughts.) Turns out Leti was actually a virgin. She confesses this to Atticus later, admitting that she wanted him to be her first. Journee plays her vulnerability in this confession scene so well later on.

Like dang, as a sexually-repressed slutty girl in my teens, I feel Leti’s double-life here. She’s been trying to fight demons this whole time. Mainly, the demons of her promiscuous mother, who abandoned her time and time again.

Long story short: Leti got the money as sole inheritance from her mother. In a scene where she admits this to Ruby, Ruby confronts Leti for being even more vain and selfish than this garbage mom, and like, whoa. It’s a tough pill to swallow. Leti’s complexity comes out here in full force. She’s trying to be helpful, to be giving, to reconnect with her family, but all of her attempts still lead her down the same path to becoming worse than her mother.

A Burning Cross

After the racist greasers burn a cross in the front yard, Leti loses it and trashes the cars on the street all Beyonce-style before Beyonce even existed. The police come and arrest her, confronting her in the back of the police van about how in the HELL she managed to buy the mysterious Winthrop House.

They drive around town and thrash her around all bloody. It’s a pretty freaky scene, but the one that follows shows Leti back into form, which is kind of jarring, honestly. It’s another issue with this show is some of the pacing. Anyway, with this new information, Leti goes into full research mode, creating herself a “crazy wall” but on a diner table somewhere.

The overhead shot of this table where Leti explains the lore of the house to Atticus is absolutely wonderful, the papers layered with the coffee cups and our two potential lovers speculating theories back and forth. The lighting was great. The props looks awesome. Our characters were closer than ever. Gets a whole lot of YES from me.

To sum it up: The house was owned by a mad scientist who did experiments on 8 different black people. The ghost (which shows himself to Leti in the darkroom after she lays all her photos down a la Joyce Byers in S02 of Stranger Things), demands she get out of his house.

90s Overload

In response, Leti gets an exoricist, or rather, an “Orisha” to coax the tormented spirits out of the house.

A goat gets killed. Protective marks are drawn. The trio heads down into the sub-basement at the same time the racist greasers enter the house. Anyway, the vanquishing happens. The spirits wreak havoc on the racists. Two die on a radiator. The other gets his head sliced off in the empty elevator shaft.

During the cleansing, the spirit of the mad scientist (who is also totes linked to the Sons of Adam, but we’ll get to that later!) possesses the orisha, who then attacks Atticus, possessing him. Leti holds ground, summoning the 8 ghosts to join hands with her and vanquish mad scientist dude to hell or wherever it is he rightfully belongs.

It’s a cheesy scene, yes. There’s yelling a lot of stuff about how the “spirits aren’t dead yet” and how they “can still fight”. It reminds me of the scene from Chilling Adventures of Sabrina where Sabrina utilizes the spirits of the dead to overpower the Weird Sisters into stopping the hazing rituals at the Academy of Dark Arts.

Chilling Adventures of Sabrina at least had the teenage / campy angle to allow me to suspend my disbelief. Lovecraft Country carries more emotional weight, and perhaps I haven’t given this show the opportunity to balance that camp / top-tier drama yet. Or maybe the show doesn’t work? AV Club gave this episode an A, so the problem might be me?

I struggled with the chaos of this climax upon first viewing. However, the power of Journee’s acting did pull through my disbelief. She KILLLLLLLLLLSSSSS it.

After vanquishing the evil, the tortured souls disappear. Leti shudders and gathers her breath, and lemme tell you, she honestly gave me chills. Journee can do anything. She is amazing. She is wonderful. I hope she gets all the accolades she so rightfully deserves, because wow, she can really sell that emotional roller coaster.

One Last Thing!

Atticus locates Christina after discovering that the realtor who sold Leti the house is connected to the Sons of Adam. Turns out that the inheritance money given to Leti wasn’t actually from her mother, but from Christina.

Turns out that the mad scientist is also linked to the Sons of Adam.

Atticus tries to shoot Christina but she puts a freezing spell on him and then explains a whole lot more confovolutes stuff that my tired brain didn’t have the concept to process. Essentially, some pages were stolen from that Book of Names and Christina then slips a business card into Atticus’ pocket, suggesting that he join forces with her to try to find said spells.

Going back to Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, this episode kind of felt like the Battybat dream episode in some ways. I liked it, but it was jarring. I couldn’t get my bearings within the episode.

Elevators Are Always Creepy AF

Back at the now-not-haunted house, a black reporter interviews Leti about her boarding house, asking about the three white dudes in the neighbourhood who have gone missing.

They get off the elevator but we viewers remain inside of it as the elevator descends down past the basemnt, the sub-basmenet, and then beneath the house where the three bodies have been moved. THere’s a tunnel down here that leads somewhere foreign. Somewhere unknown.

I’m creeped the fuck out again, people.

I’m still intrigued.

Stray Thoughts



The Ouija board scene did its best at being original, but these things are so cliche and so common now. The “You moved it!” accusation. The quick shifts of the planchete and the foreboding message. Meh. They added a great touch with the slowing down of the music, however. Trouble is, I’ve already heard enough vapourwave that this scene just made me think of Dan Bell’s Dead Mall Series, so uh… yeah. During the party, Hippolyta discovers a room with a strange planetary device in it. Later, during the cross burning, she leaves the party, taking all the weapons and guns and, presumably, the device. I can’t wait to find out what the deal is with that.Consequently, it’ll be great to see how these ties to the Sons of Adam affect Atticus’ other friends.As a fan of good sex, I appreciate the realness of Atticus and Leti’s budding relationship here. They don’t start on the same page. They’re both awkward. Leti projects herself too hard. Atticus isn’t sure what to expect from her. I appreciate that the sex is hot but doesn’t sell itself as some amazing connection between them. It breaks the tension but doesn’t cement their bond. You know, like real life.The sibling rivalry picks up quite a bit between Leti and Ruby. Both characters have points. Both actresses sell it. Will their dynamic be even better than that between Nucky and Eli from Boardwalk Empire? Because that’s my fave sibling relationship and these two are already vouching to do better just three episodes into their series.Once again, Christina destroys me with fashion. That brocade suit was glamtown.I fucking miss George. I hate that he’s dead. I also love that the Ouija board taunted Diana of this fact. But what was behind it?

The post LOVECRAFT COUNTRY Review: “Holy Ghost” appeared first on REBECCAJONESHOWE.COM.

LOVECRAFT COUNTRY Review: “Whitey on the Moon”

Did you watch the first episode of Lovecraft Country yet? The hype built itself up pretty well. Makes me think of when Game of Thrones first came out. My husband had read the books and eagerly awaited the show. I watched with little intention of getting into it but after that first episode I was hooked. So here I am now, forcing all my friends to indulge in Lovecraft Country. And my husband and I eagerly dove into episode two, titled “Whitey on the Moon”.

A New World

This episode starts off with a little montage of Uncle George and Letitita exploring the wonders of their guest rooms in the massive mansion that out protagonists discovered Ardham. Scored to the theme song of The Jeffersons, this opening plays in a comedic way, which kind of gives us a nod, like, “Hey, remember how the first episode opened, because you should probably gear up for some weirdness again.”

So we get to watch George and Leti indulge in some classic literature and a very kick-ass 1950s wardrobe, all while Atticus sits in his room absolutely traumatized. All it takes is the the group to meet for breakfast on the patio the next morning for Atticus to realize that his comrades have no memory of the racist-police-turned-Shoggoth-attack in the woods the night before.

Some Crazy Convoluted Backstory

Their host, the strange white dude named William, gives them a background on the home, (which I totally felt was familiar, and was correct to assume that it was familiar in that the front facade Bisham Manor in LaGrange, Georgia, which is the same house they used at the mansion in The Haunting of Hill House, with some CGI additions.) We get some long-winded exposition on the entire backstory that links Atticus to Ardham Manor. Built by a man named Titus Braithwaite, a man who built his fortune in “shipping”, which Leti reminds us means he owned slaves. Except William assures us that he was “awfully nice” to his slaves, meaning that eventually, one of them got knocked up.

ANYHOOOOOO, Titus was the founder of this weird cult of wizards, otherwise known as the The Order of Ancient Dawn, and he believed that he could open up a portal to the Garden of Eden and gain eternal life or something. The ritual failed, and the house burnt down, killing everyone inside but one woman…

Hannah, the knocked-up slave, of course!

The Village

After realizing that some shannegans are going on, but not BEFORE Leti gets a chance to eat herself a proper breakfast, ringing for servants to spice up her bland-ass white person food, the trio heads out to the nearby village to figure out where the hell Atticus’ father, Montrose, is.

The village is, well, very old-time-y. The villagers, full on Amish-dressed, don’t seem to take any issue with three black people wandering about their Shamelan-inspired wilderness retreat. Leti even gets to snap a few pictures before they come across the tower that George believes is the prision that might be holding Montrose.

The woman standing before the tower, however, plays the village crazy lady, Dell, who does take notice of our heroes being black. She wields a gun and dons overalls and doesn’t fit in with the rest of the villagers and I have to wonder why? Are the villagers under a spell and she isn’t? Does she get paid to act as some kind of warden to the people in Ardham? She clearly knows enough about the monsters, telling our heroes to go back to the house before the sun goes down.

Our heroes do not listen for some bizarre reason. George believes that Montrose must be in the dungeon of the tower, but then decide to escape Ardham by walking away? Makes no sense. The shoggoths bust out of the ground and threaten to devour our trio, but then the whistle goes off again. The shoggoths bolt and the blond-haired woman driving the silver Bentley in the last episode takes them all back “home”.

Some New Revelations and EVEN MORE CONVOLUTED BACKSTORY!

Atticus gets invited to meet the current owner of Braithwaite Manor. He’s another white blonde named Samuel, who is Christina’s father. Atticus doesn’t get to meet him right away though. Instead he gets to watch Samuel getting his liver removed without any anesthetic. Fortunately the gore-factor is pretty toned down in this show, so it’s not a tough watch.

Atticus, Samuel, and Christina get acquainted after Samuel redresses himself. He’s primarily interested in gaining the power of eternal youth, referencing that verse in the Bible where God lets Adam name all the animals, believing the Garden of Eden to be some source of power or whatever. The cult itself seems to focus mainly on Adam’s part with establishing the function of the world, which ultimately seems to be Samual’s end goal, I guess? Honestly, I started drifting a bit because the weirdness was getting a bit TOO weird for me, but hey I persevered.

Witchy Stuff?

At night, our three heros each get locked in their rooms. But it’s okay because Christina gives them all some entertaining hallucinations. Shes a witch, or a wizardress or something. I dunno. She admits to Atticus earlier on that she has powers but not how or why she has them.

Leti attempts to get out of her room, only to be consoled by Atticus, or rather, a version of Atticus who I instantly knew hasn’t real, considering she was paranoid and he just made her sit down and talk it out. This was not the Atticus who talked her into running out into the woods the night before. But Leti likes this seductive Atticus, telling him about her fears of abandonment as a result of being abandoned by her now-dead mother. They start to bone and we get a shot of this weird painting in the room of a dude with a snake-dong ready to bone a chick with his snake dong. But then the foreplay gets a little too hot and too heavy and Leti asks Atticus not to take his pants off, but yeah, the zipper goes down and the snake comes out and GAHHHHHHHHHHH WHYYYYYYYYYY.

Meanwhile, George gets a nice hallucination wherein he gets reacquainted with a former love, Dora, who remembers fondly the nights where she and George and Montrose would play “What If?” together under the stars in Tulsa. I loved this little story because it hints pretty obviously that Dora had some feelings for both of these men, and now she’s dead (perhaps from the massacre?). She wants George to come away with her but he pushes her back, knowing that it isn’t right, and the only question I have now is: IS DORA ATTICUS’ DEAD MOM BECAUSE SHE HAS TO BE?

Lastly, Atticus tries tapping morse code messages through the wall to his uncle, but is then countered with a Korean assassin-like woman with a knife. Clearly, Atticus knows this woman, because he calls her by name. Yet, she’s still hell-bent on killing him, which she fails at doing when Atticus counters her with his, super sexy man arms that don’t quit even after getting stabbed. Could this woman be the one he called on the phone? Is she really dead? Is she a ghost haunting him?

Cut back to this weird mirror room with Christina Braithwaite and a bunch of rich white dudes laughing at our heroes emotional trauma. Like fuck rich people. They suck.

A Baby is Born

But maybe Christina doesn’t suck that much. She does at one point say that friends are important and seems to suggest to Atticus that they should be friends.

She also gets called by some little village boy to come out to the stables to for some reason birth a tiny baby Shoggoth out of a cow. THe villagers ride the high of the new birth and one of them asks Christina if she’s ever done this before. She hugs the baby Shoggoth and says “No”, to which I say that she must be fucking lying because she rolled up those GORGEOUS grey billowy silk (House of Foxy-looking) blouse sleeves up like a pro and birthed that thing in like 30 seconds.

But the mom in me thinks the baby Shoggoth is cute. My son is like 16 months old now and is becoming quite the hellion so I miss those baby years. Even baby Shoggoths give me the fever, I won’t lie.

George Does Some Digging

While Atticus watches some morbid stuff, George discovers the classic “pull the book out of the shelf to unlock a secret door behind the bookshelf” lock and finds a book called Bylaws and Precepts of The Order of Ancient Dawn. This brings him a wealth of knowledge that he brings to the fancy rich dude formal cult dinner that George and Atticus get invited to.

All the white men are like SHOOK to see two black guys there, and what’s even better is that George gets up and mighty (calling back to his attitude at the racist white diner) telling them all that the order is made of various members of wealth, but that the truest members (the “Sons Among Sons”) have blood ties to Titus Braithwaite.

Turns out that Atticus has the closest ties to Titus, being that Hannah is his great great great (x whatever) grandmother. The fancy dinner being served up is Samuel’s liver for some reason, which Atticus tells George not to consume. He also tells everyone but Samuel to get the fuck out.

And they listen! Like DAAAAANNNNGGG.

In their private exhange, Atticus asks Samuel to return Montrose. Samuel sighs and goes into EVEN MORE EXPOSITION, mentioning something about The Book of Names, which is a book that Titus used to open the gate to The Garden of Eden and that Atticus must be used for the Samuel’s own gate-opening ceremony, being that he’s a “resevoir” of that power. He’s useful for Samuel’s work.

“Do not mistake useful with indispensible,” he says, walking away.

Weirdness Strikes Again!

Cut to George and Atticus breaking into the tower dungeon to find Montrose. The gun-weilding racist lady strikes again, though, but not before Leti smashes her over the head with a pan or something, killing her instantly. The three follow Montrose’s Shawshank Redemption tunnel out of the dungeon and back into the dark night.

We finally get to see Michael K. Williams in all his glory again, and he plays a majorly messed-up dad, who gets enraged to see his rescue squad. When Atticus confronts him about the letter, Montrose insists that he wrote it under duress, meaning that he was held hostage just to get Atticus there to participate in Samuel’s morning ritual seance thing.

The foursome decide to get the hell out of dodge, stealing the Bentley for speed, only to crash it into an invisible wall at the end of the covered bridge leading out of the town.

Marilyn Manson plays as our heroes wearily climb out of the car. Samuel and Christina confront them on the bridge, and we don’t get to listen to much Manson because Samuel shoots Leti right in the gut. She collapses. Atticus goes to help, using his military calm to keep Leti focused, only she doesn’t remain all that focused for long.

Before like, dying. And let me tell you, a had to frantically do a deep brain dive to recall any other scenes of Leti in the trailer, because like, she can’t die, yo!

But then Samuel asks Atticus to choose between his father or his uncle, giving Atticus no time do decide before he shoots George.

Sexy Bath Time + EVEN MOAR EXPOSITION!

More Manson! Yay! Some people didn’t like this song choice but it works for me. Gives it some proper campiness. This scores a weird nude bathing scene with a bunch of white nun-dressed ladies sponge-bathing our rippled hero. Christina walks in and explains that if Atticus goes through with the ceremony that Samuel will heal George like he healed Leti.

Annnnnnd CUT to a magic portal window showing Leti waking up from her death.

Christian explains that there this Language of Adam that must be wielded to cast the right spell to properly open the door. Blah blah blah. SHe gives him a gaudy cult ring, obviously JEALS because she should have one but can’t have one because she’s a woman and a black man still gets to have one.

White girl problems, right?

We get to the ritual thing, where Atticus stands in the middle of three electric orb things that light up, shock Atticus, and open up the gate with flowers and stuff. It gives me Green Man of Chilling Adventures of Season 3 vibes, but oddly less disturbing for some reason.

This scene is scored to a spoken-word poem by Gil-Scott Heron, called “Whitey on the Moon”, which tells the story of Heron’s sister, who was bitten by a rat and came down sick. The family couldn’t pay the medical bills, and the poem conveys the alternate realities that most black people dealt with in that pivotal time of innovation when man first landed on the moon. Some might say that it’s not as great at the travelling montage from last episode, but this one was fun and created so much movement to the scene. While we watched the lore of the backstory play out, we also get to experience the racial struggle and it plays out so damn well in this scene.

Anyway, the ring turns black as the gate opens. The flowers begin to die and Atticus sees a pregnant woman in the portal. Hannah. She holds a book, which we can presume is this elusive “Book of Names”. The spell goes haywire. Samuel turns into stone and the other cult members explode. The house shakes and cracks.

I didn’t catch this on my viewing, but multiple comments from book-readers suggest that Christina put a spell on the ring to ruin the ceremony, so I suspect that that is what happened here.

Meanwhile, Montrose, Leti and a weakened George, rush to get out of the house. Atticus follows the spectre of pregnant Hannah, who leads him out the front door in the nick of time.

But not really the nick of time, because he arrives at the car just as George dies in Montrose’s arms. And damn if I wasn’t busted up about that. Gotta applaud the actors on this one, especially Jurnee and Jonathan, who both shift between that “THANK GOD YOU’RE ALIVE” and “UNCLE GEORGE DIED” shift so effin’ well.

RIP GEORGE

Stray Thoughts



George does not show up in any unseen scenes from episodes 1 or 2 in the trailer, so he’s legit dead dead, which makes me sad. He was my second favourite character after Leti. Granted, narrative structure basically dictated that he’d die, but it’s still sad to see good people go. On George’s notepad: WIZARDSIn the bed scene that occurs before the spell goes awry, George and Montrose have a little heart to heart, wherein Montrose discusses the abuse he sustained from their father after their tried to support their favourite baseball player. Explains a lot about why Montrose is who he is now. Lots of meat in his character to chew on in later episodes for sure.ALSO discussed between the brothers is that Montrose might not actually be Atticus’ father. Like legit, Dora is the mom and was caught between two bros. A tale as old as time.Leti’s little post-death panic attack was so epic. Jurnee Smollett NEEEEEEDS to be the next scream queen. I need it. She’s wonderful.The next episode looks to bring the weirdness back to Chicago when Leti buys herself a super fancy house in a white neighbourhood and I. CAN’T. WAIT. It’ll be nice to feel like it’s the 50s again, because this episode felt a lot like Harry Potter, no? Anyone else? Just me?

The post LOVECRAFT COUNTRY Review: “Whitey on the Moon” appeared first on REBECCAJONESHOWE.COM.

LOVECRAFT COUNTRY Review: “Sundown”

Okay, friends, my previous recap series of Quibi’s The Stranger got a crazy amount of hits this past week, which is weird because people are still watching Quibi? Like what the hell? Either way, I just finished the first episode of HBO’s brand new series, Lovecraft Country, and holy shit do I have some things to say.

Being a half-white chick eagerly anticipating Halloween, I’ve been hitting the spooky stuff pretty hard. Late August is pretty much an ideal time to debut a mystery/horror show like Lovecraft Country. Not to mention, with all the recent Black Lives Matter advances, this show is dropping at the pinpoint exact RIGHT DAMN TIME.

Some Backstory on “Sundown”

So every first episode has a bit of confusion in regards to establishing the setting, characters, tensions, etc. Fortunately, “Sundown” takes this all in stride, focusing on its rich characters to carry us into the show’s second half.

While the show doesn’t start out with one of those nifty que cards indicating the time period (only places), it doesn’t take one long to understand that our protagonist, Atticus “Tic” has just returned form the Korean War to 1950’s Chicago to investigate the disappearance of his father.

A sci-fi/horror buff, he befriends a fellow Black woman at the back of the bus shortly before it breaks down on the side of the road. When a pickup truck drives in to rescue the stranded passengers, Attictus takes notice of the unfriendly-looking drivers and walks with his new friend the rest of the way to Chicago. The scene conveys Atticus’ careful observation skills and his power of decisive action.

I also took notice of his ridiculous arm muscles. His old school friend Letitia (Leti) does too. Leti returns to Chigaco in an attempt to stay with her sister Ruby after (yet again) running out of money. Seems she’s the black sheep of the family, which makes me wanna root for her, even though I also loved her sister’s character. Leti refuses to clean houses for a living. Instead, she aspires to work at a fancy department store with the white folk, a dream that Ruby affirms her will never come true. (Ruby’s tried for yeearrrrs, sis.)

In Chicago, Atticus reunites with his Uncle George, author of The Safe Negro Travel Guide, which is exactly what it sounds like. Unfortunately, in order to write this book, George must actually travel to various counties in the damn Jim Crow era. He’s already got a knee busted up from some cops on his last trip. George’s wife, Hippolyta, offers to take the trip in his place, but he turns her down for fear of her safety. After all, it is the 1950s.

Leti, however, has a car, so Atticus and George venture out with her to find this mysterious town called Ardham (not to be confused with Arkham!) where Atticus’ father said he was going in a letter.

Black History in “Sundown”

Call me Canadian but I don’t know enough about Black history in America. I of course understand the slavery and segregation, but the ability to see the mental impact that this regulation had on people of colour really put me in a place, people. Lovecraft Country makes me want to understand more.

“Sundown”‘s most gripping scene is a montage of the first leg of the trio’s trip through the midwest. It’s scored to a popular statement given by James Baldwin about how the dream of America, highlighting how the country was built on the labour of black people, and continues to thrive at the expense of black people.

Several scenes of the montage focus on segregation, featuring lines for ice cream and the movie theatre. A very gripping visual is the one of a billboard featuring a white family in a car, selling “the car of freedom” while a line of poor black people stand below it waiting for the bus.

Another overgrown billboard outside of a country features the slogan: “Negros: Don’t let the sun go down on you today.”

Haunting, yes, but for me, a person who didn’t know what a “sundown town” was before Lovecraft Country, well, damn was I in for a fucking shock and a half.

Mid-Century Black Life

So I knew about the separate lineups and the endless mocking that Black Americans dealt with in the mid-century. But holy shit, that first tense scene in the restaurant was scary. When Leti takes a trip to the “ladies room” in the diner, I expected some kind of sexual violence to happen, but instead we catch her taking notice of the diner waiter on the phone, mentioning that “three black people came into the restaurant and he’s worried about what might happen”.

Leti gets the men out the booth and into the car right quick, when a group of white vigilantes chases after them with guns. It’s a wonderfully tense chase scene, but what’s even better is seeing how our three protagonists remain focused in a time of peak adrenaline. Eventually, a mysterious silver car becomes the diversion, swerving and magically flipping our racist pursuers. The passenger door opens and a white lady in a red hat appears before our protags drive off.

After a brief detour at Leti’s brother’s house, the trio heads out again, quickly getting sidelined by a notoriously racist cop, who briefs those of us who need to catch up on our fucking history on exactly what a “sundown county” is. And dang if that was not a tense chase scene at 25 miles per hour.

When The Sun Goes Down, The Horror Comes Up

Atticus, George and Leti barely get to breathe a sigh of relief before driving up to the police blockade in the next county. They’re quickly led into the woods at gunpoint, but it’s okay, because in this fantasy world, where bastard cops play, monsters lurk in the bushes. And they leave lots of blood and gore for us somewhat cowardly horror fans to enjoy.

Lemme just say that the special effects and direction of this scene is literal perfection. Much of the horror gets downplayed for comedic effect but it is absolutely wonderful and is everything that I desire to see in a horror. Adrenaline pumped. Proper jump scares got me off my seat.

The monsters are very Stranger Things-esque. The gore exists but is a fun gore. The cops that turn vampire remind me a bit of the trolls from Earnest Scared Stupid.

And Leti? Leti is no average scream queen. No orgasmic breathy heaves for Leti. Our friend Carl E. would have let her live, I’m sure. Leti’s dash to the car leaves her grunting with avid determination to survive. Plus, she gets some amazing damn screams in. She’s easily my favourite character.

I also appreciated the scene in the cabin, which pitted the surviving racist cops against Atticus and George. You see, the monsters don’t like light (giving me fond memories of one of my favourite horror games, Alan Wake). While the two cops demand all the flashlights and hog all the guns, the bitten racist asshole sheriff starts transforming. Gun-hogging racist cop worries about his bro, but both Atticus and George have a thing called survival instinct. As the infected racist garbage sheriff begins to transform, well, the scene cuts to George and Atticus standing calm with growing concern.

[image error]Horror comedy done right.

I love that the racial tension of the episode’s first half successfully builds our protagonists to survive this scene. Whenever they encounter white people, they have to maintain calm, weigh their options and act with survival in mind. They are 100% ALWAYS in survival mode, which makes this monster sequence so fantastic. Atticus, Leti and George all make smart decisions. They act with determination. The cops, who flail and bluster and wave their guns around, all fall to the terror. Our protagonists do not, and it speaks so much to the era, while also giving our characters the chance to escape each threat they face. Even the monsters.

And monsters aren’t supposed to be real, at least, according to the police.

The 1950’s

This was the 50’s, which was always told to me as a time of suburbs and nuclear families and perfection and maybe some dirty-ass nasty coal-covered streets a la Harold the Dirty Dog. I’m sure it will never not shock us that in a time of propagandized suburban perfection that black people were still being regularly hung from trees for being black.

I did love the first third of “Sundown”, which took place in a black neighbourhood in Chicago. The scenes were so vivid, colourful, full of life and blended generations. While it’s sad to think that Black people were forced to form their own neighbourhoods to feel safe, it’s also heartwarming to see just how much these neighbourhoods thrived from this sense of community. At least, you know, before the white people went a fucked that shit up too.

Like geez.

Black Lives Matter, everyone.

The Next Game of Thrones?

By the show’s end, our trio walks to the mysterious town of Ardham, finding a massive Tutor mansion. They pass the mysterious silver car in the driveway. A dude who looks like Carlyle Cullen crossed with Matthew McAughenay answers the door, stating that he’s been expecting Atticus Freeman. He welcomes him “home”.

Whatever that means.

I do feel that this show has a high change of being the next Game of Thrones. It’s got everything. Monsters. Mystery. Lessons in history. Complex black characters AND a little humour. The teaser for the season gives me some Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency vibes. I am so stoked to watch this show as the heat of summer moves into the creepiness of fall.

Notes



That Aunt Jemima billboard. Like I imagine that scene was filmed before everything post-George Floyd happened. Like dang, the coincidence of it.Leti’s whole 50’s style, and throwing shade with her cat-eye sunglasses at those uptight white ladies.Diana (Atticus’s young cousin) drawing creepy monsters on the maps. I thought they looked pretty awesome and I bet whoever was responsible for designing those props had a lot of fun making them.Atticus rocking those old-timey specs.Also really interesting about Atticus struggling with his obsession with Lovecraft (a notable racist), which kind of ties in to some unintended social commentary about J.K. Rowling and trans rights.George: “You, you, y-you… need to shoot him.”Hopefully we’ll get to see my good friend Chalky White in the next episode. I love love loved Michael K. William’s role in Boardwalk Empire and I’m so excited to see him again in this show as Atticus’ father.



What did you think of the first episode of Lovecraft Country?

Is it good pulpy fun? Did you learn something? What do you expect? Did you laugh when the zombied racist bastard-cop ate the idiot racist bastard cop as much as I did? Is this the next Game of Thrones?

Sound off in the comments!

The post LOVECRAFT COUNTRY Review: “Sundown” appeared first on REBECCAJONESHOWE.COM.

How to ENJOY Editing Your Fiction

Okay writers, this might sting, but I just can’t with your complaints about editing. I get it, though. Nobody likes to read an onslaught of their garbage writing, but if you don’t look at it, then NOBODY will. So you gotta suck it up and edit your fiction. Writing takes time and skill and you aren’t going to build any proper writing skills unless you edit. Editing’s a tough gig, yes, but I’ve got a few tricks to help you actually enjoy editing your fiction.

Embrace the Edit

Editing is the best part of writing fiction. Fight me. I will win.

Editing is a part of the writing process and is, arguably, the most important part. Anyone can write a story. Your purpose as writer is to tell a GOOD STORY and there’s no way in hell you’re going to tell a good story without editing.

If you need some brushing up on your editing skills, then I highly recommend you read the book Self-Editing for Fiction Writers by Renni Browne and David King. It focuses on all the important elements that fiction requires, including POV, characterization, inner monologue and all that good stuff us writers love.

Accept That Your First Draft is Bad

I’m sorry, but it is. Your first draft is the biggest mistake you ever made in your life. Why the hell did you write it? It’s horrible. You’re horrible. You suck that everything you do.

Here’s the thing. Your brain can’t tell a cohesive story. It’s a human flaw. Storytelling takes practice, and every draft you write is what? PRACTICE. So just accept that your plot’s gonna have some holes. Your characters are gonna be flat. Your tension will be lacking. It’s no failure on your part, really. Every draft gives you better footing in your story. Calm down and find that footing. Accept the flaws and fix them, one by one.

Don’t Print Your First Draft

If you wrote your first draft correctly, it won’t be worth the paper it’s printed on (or the ink, which is hella expensive). The first draft is all about getting the story out of your head. It’s going to be a horrible disaster and it will also be lacking in all those essential plot elements that make a piece of writing good.

Treat that first draft like a half-draft. It’s NOT finished yet and you still have to write. So once you write that last scene, go back to the beginning and read over it. You will likely add some things, remove some things. I often find this process less painful a process when it’s on a digital screen. It feels less final and makes me feel a lot less lousy.

Then, once I get all the plot elements in place, I’ll print what I call Draft 1.5 (which is always better than a first draft) and yes, it proves to be a much easier beast to tame.

Embrace Your Inner Sadist

Okay, I know new writers enjoy writing with abandon, creating characters and throwing them into new situations with the intention of throwing the final result on the internet as soon as the story’s done. And well, you’re gonna need to establish yourself from ground rules, friendo.

You’re going to need to do some dominating.

The creative side of you wants to flourish but you can’t flourish without just a little bit of restriction. Story structure exists for a reason and your first draft is a real brat that’s going to need some control. Editing is that control.

So get out your whips and your chains and your spanking chair and that trusty pen and start dominating. And I don’t mean like serial killer-style. A proper dominant knows what’s best. Do your creative side some favours and establish some ground rules.

No more adverbs!

Stop relying on that phrase you keep using!

Shorten your sentences!

Hurts so gooooood, right?

Get Salty

Look, I know it stings. I’ve written a lot of self-deprecating stuff in the margins of all my drafts. It’s all a part of the writer’s struggle. It’s the stereotype. What kind of writer is happy-go-lucky amazing all the time.

NO WRITER.

Typically, I print out my second draft and get really heavy with the pen. So get dark. Get hateful. Get dirty. That second draft is for marking up and I like to mark mine up real good. It helps me get the angst out on the paper. Sometimes I wanna crumple the thing up and do something else, but this is the process.

Think of the second draft as a crappy B-movie. A real garbage idiot writer thought this was a great piece of work but now YOU (a good writer with the same name as the idiot writer for some reason) get to change all the scenes to your liking. Fix those problematic characters! Find all the plot holes! Pick the cheese out of your dialogue!

Enjoy editing your fiction, you little bitch.

The best part is that sometimes you find those little nuggets that are actually worthy. You find your worth after all that pain.

Give Your Narrative Craft the Chance to Evolve

Take yourself seriously and apply a little pressure. Being a good writer is accepting that your brain doesn’t function in a neat and tidy manner. Stories are characters and sets and action and drama, tension and voice carefully curated with craft. The craft part is the editing.

Fiction is not real life, and thus, needs a few drafts to sound convincingly like real life that comes full-circle. Writing needs reflection and time to evolve. Your writing will evolve with your editing. And that takes some serious, and yes, difficult work.

You cannot evolve as a writer without editing. The more you edit, the more you learn. The more you learn, the better your next first draft will be. You will learn story structure. You will learn what makes a great character. Stop striving for first-time perfection and give yourself the time to understand your flaws.

The more time you spend editing your fiction, the more you’ll enjoy it.

So it’s time to enjoy editing your fiction, writers. Embrace it. Love it. Make it something you look forward to.

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