A Little More About Just After Sunset

All the thirteen stories have something to do with health, sickness and something like that.  Either the protagonist is sick, or someone he knows, or someone he hates.  I think if the title of the book is not to be taken literally, sunset could mean being at the last few decades (because days will be too short) of their lives. 

I have read a few short story compilations of Stephen King but it was too long ago for me to recall those books.  But if I remember it right, this is different from all of those other books I have read.  I couldn't remember in which compilation does "Rita Hayworth and the Shawshank Redemption" belongs (I'd be glad if you can tell me at the comments the book where it belongs), but that is the most memorable short story for me amongst all of them, "Stand By Me" being the second.

In this book, the story that got stuck in my head up until now is "Stationary Bike."  Please refer to my post about the story.  It is striking in as much as I wanted my best friend to read about the story even if I know that she doesn't read Stephen King books.  Not to mention the fact that this is the first time I urged her into reading something. 

It took me a while to finish this book.  One of the major reasons is the number of distractions around.  But the other reason is that I find it not too engaging as compared to his other books, to make me sit and really read and not bring down the book. 

But after all, Stephen King's style still amazes me.  Sometimes, it is not necessarily the story but those little things inside the story that makes me wonder how can someone think about that piece of a thought. 

Between Neighbors

This is the last story in the book.

Grunwald and Curtis became neighbors because of this guy who sold them adjacent properties.

Because of certain developments, they became foes, with each wanting a certain part of the land that lay between them and were claiming ownership of this piece of land.

With Grunwald being diagnosed with cancer and his wife leaving him, he seemed to be in a very tight situation, which includes needing money not just for his medications.

Curtis, however, was living his life a little comfortable as compared to Grunwald's. But this seems to be just in his point of view.

One day, Curtis received a phone call from Grunwald which was obviously an invitation for them to meet at a certain place, a construction site nearby, which Grunwald knows that Curtis is familiar with. For Curtis, this is enough for him to conclude that Grunwald will definitely ask for a settlement, which he knew will put him on top of the situation. He thinks Grunwald will probably ask him an out-of-court settlement just so to make things easier in his part.

The situation proved otherwise when he finally get to the meeting place and had a few words with Grunwald. With a gun pointed towards him, Grunwald asked him to get into one of those Porta-o-Sans that lie on its side [the door side] with nothing but his clothes on. At this point, you might ask: Who, now, is in a very tight place?

After about more than a day of desperation inside that place - stinking from the smell of that shit hole and losing hope - he saw light at the end of the hole. The situation shifted on his side and on this note, it seems that his dog, Betsy, saved his life.

Curtis got out.

What happened next was of course, between neighbors.

Ayanna Does

For some reason, I can't seem to remember what the name of the guy with cancer is.  Neither the son who tells the story.

But let me just tell you something about this short story.

Many people would not believe this until there is nothing more to believe.

The guy who wrote the story has a dad who was dying of cancer.  His condition gets worse until one day, a mother and child went to their home and kissed the father on the cheek.  After this happened, the father started to get well and began living his life as a normal being will.

Yes, it was a miracle.

Yet one day, as we all will in our own time, the father died.

But the son (who tells the story) believed it wasn't of cancer, but his siblings and his wife do not agree.  They told him he shouldn't tell. 

But how couldn't he, when he is a miracle worker himself?

Whose Sin Is It?

He came into the confessional box, not sure if it was even the right thing to do.

He picked up a hitch hiker who was deaf and mute (as the sign that hangs on his neck says) because it was raining hard and he did it out of pity.  He normally does not pick up hitch hikers, but he didn't know what hit him this time.  Being always on the road as a sales representative, he can almost call his car and the roads as his home.

The reason was probably he was lonely and devastated.  He was in the process of divorcing his wife and was going through his toughest.

Because we all know that misery loves company, he began telling his story.  He was confident that it will just be almost between him and himself since as I said, the guy he picked up was deaf and mute.

He came into confession because his wife and her lover were killed.  He thinks he was guilty and after telling the priests what had happened or what he thought happened, the priest asked him to do this as his penance.

"Ten Our Fathers and ten Hail Marys."

But before he left the confessional, the priest asked him one last question, and his answer was, "Of course, I do."

As a self-imposed penance for what he thinks was a guilty answer, he added two more Our Fathers and two more Hail Marys.

A Love Transcended

I don’t understand why the title is “The New York Times at Special Bargain Rates.” Certainly, there is something else. Maybe it’s just that I am having some information overload, that’s why I couldn’t get myself to ‘dig in’ like I used to when reading his story.

Or could it be…

The plot was not entirely new.

Maybe this is why my mind refuses to ‘dig in.’ A love that transcended, but it looks like one of those movie series where the boy could see what the future holds – what evil the future holds. I am trying to remember the title. Oh I just did… but am not sure… I think it’s ‘Final Destination.’

But in this case, someone is telling someone else about the things that would happen… that would happen in the future but without definite time.

It took years before what he told her will happen, happened.

Long after he was gone.

I am Looking for Depth

I just read the story yesterday and totally forgot the name of the cat - in the story "The Cat From Hell."

I guess this morning when I woke up, I knew what I was looking for and never found in this book... so far.

I read SK books only not because of the horror, but because of the depth of his stories. You may not believe it but I see that in those old novels like "Needful Things," "It," "Dolores Claiborne," "Misery," and also the short story, "Rita Hayworth and the Shawshank Redemption."

At first, I thought it was because the stories in this book are short, therefore, not giving SK the opportunity to explore depth. But then, I just realize that "Rita Hayworth and the Shawshank Redemption" is also a short story from the book, "Different Seasons" which also includes the famous book-to-movie, "Stand By Me."

Well, for me, there is this emotional side of Stephen King that I found in those stories. The way he brings a situation down to where it touches me deep inside my heart. The books/stories I mentioned were those that I consider having emotions that are totally touching. I think only Stephen King could be both scary and emotional at the same time in one book.

Although two of the stories came close to my category, "Harvey's Dream" and "Graduation Afternoon" which share one common thing. They are both very short (about two pages and a half on a trade paperback) and both can do some more development, although both stories didn't really have the 'novel potential.'

I have yet to read four more stories, and I still long for the depth.

Accountant N. and Dr. B

I am still with the book, "Just After Sunset." Running a little slow these days because I have a freelance writing job to do on weekdays, which is something good for me.

I found a few interesting quotes that is worth pondering, but not when you have lots of things in mind.

I'm with the patient, N., relating what he saw when he visited Ackerman's Field. I think N. just thinks he has OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder) or if Dr. B said so. But whichever, these are two of those interesting musings.

"Counting, touching and placing works for a while - it's ironic that behaviors we consider neurotic are actually holding the world in place - but sooner or later, whatever protection they offer decays."

Then, this was Dr. B's thought:

"It only exists in his mind, but that doesn't mean that it's not real."

His Two Soul Mates

"The Things They Left Behind" actually was a story before "N." But I couldn't manage to write anything about it until today.

My friend and I got to visit the tombstone of a very good friend from high school. I haven't been there yet. He passed away three years ago and I was out of the country until October last year.

I never knew how I would feel, just because I didn't think there would be anything unusual. Having gone to too many wakes, too many funerals and too many tombstones, it pretty much gets so trivial that you won't notice any difference at all.

But, the moment we were entering his mausoleum, I felt strange - I felt like seeing an old friend again. It wasn't happy, nor was it sad either. I just felt like that... "it's good to see you" was actually the first thing that popped into my mind.

If there was a thing he left behind, it was the friendship we shared, and the friendship all three of us shared. We were up to so many things during the last years of his life. Up to too many things that what he left behind was his two soul mates who still keep the friendship in spite of too many things.

What Happens in Vegas...

I thought I was the only one who has issues on stationary bikes.  Richard has, too, but he did something different about it.  What I did was stop using our probably-twenty-year-old bike and started walking.  I stopped but just got back about three for four months ago.

His doctor told him a metaphor about the cholesterol inside our body.  He says that they are like, say, four people working outside the street.  That they also get tired, and that they also need to rest, and that if they won’t rest, they will eventually die one by one.

But anyway, as with anyone else, Richard started biking because his doctor said so, and his cholesterol [workers] said so, too.  But eventually, he got bored and decided to move it somewhere at the basement of the building and did a “forced perspective” painting on the wall.  Boy, did he enjoy that painting.  This reminds me of the virtual golf thingy where you hit the ball and the gadget tells you how fast, how far your ball is.  Now I am thinking if it is really possible to have “virtual biking” where you can actually go places and there’s a gadget that will tell you your mph and the distance you traveled.  I think I’m going to buy one of those if ever there would be.

Richard started to love biking the moment he did that drawing (SK said it can never be called a mural). It made him lose weight, allowed him to do his freelance drawing work, where he eventually made good.    He bikes for two hours in front of  that ‘painting.’ He even has an alarm set which meant that it makes him feel so good that something had to remind him it was time to stop.  How I wish I get the same thing if I get back to biking.   But what I wouldn’t want to get is how he began to feel see, and eventually, what began to happen.  What happened changed his life again, and he doesn’t know how to get it back.

He continued to bike just the same, because he tried to stop, but once he did, he also stopped working and the workers start working, rising his cholesterol level once again.  He knew it had to stop because it’s not doing him any good.  So, he started biking again, and he began working again, and the workers well, he did meet some workers when he tried to map out his bike routes.  Four people who looked like construction workers doing some work at the side of the street.  But Richard doesn’t know whether these people wants something from him or wants to do something to him.

All I know is, what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.

But what happens inside Richard’s body, our body… well, that’s another story.

I've Had Harvey's Dream

I think it was two days ago – or maybe it wasn’t – that I dreamed about snakes. Yeah, not just one of them, nor two. There were a lot. I don’t know what triggered that dream. It might be the vacant lot in front of our house that is now being filled up with soil. Or maybe it’s something else.

I have had dreams about snakes. One of it was so many years back, but I remember because it was sort of funny, the snake being a colorful cartoon character. The next that I remember was probably a month back and couldn’t come up with at least the scene, if not the story. Then this one. I was walking on a soily road (just like the filling material from the lot across our home) and was about to step on a snake when someone snatched it to keep it from biting me. He told me to take care because there are many snakes. And as I walked along the road, I saw people passed by me carrying snakes that as if they are catching them for some reason. I walked and another snaked I nearly stepped on. Nearly, because someone scooped it, looking as if he was really catching it as a prize for a game. Then, I continued to walk and then woke up. So, do you think the soil triggered the dream?

But whichever it may be, I just hope it’s not like Harvey’s dream. Shit! I really hope it’s not like Harvey’s.

This is, I think, the third of the thirteen stories in this book; the shortest of the three. It was only ten pages, which is really quite a short story. But this is the scariest so far. Or… was it scary just because I had a dream about snakes?

Just After Sunset

She lived in her Toughskins and shell tops, hair scrooped back behind her in a ponytail.  She and her best friend Becka watched old Eastwood and Schwarzenegger movies on TV instead of the Olsen wins, and when they watched Scooby-Doo, they identified with the dog rather than Velma or Daphne.  For two years in grammar school, their lunches were Scooby Snacks.

And they climbed trees, of course.  Emily seemed to remember her and Becka hanging out in the trees in their respective backyards for one whole summer.

In a Hurry

So that's what happened with Rose Madder.

I wanted to finish the book soon.  Not because I wanted to know the ending but, sorry to say, just so that I can get over and done with it and start a new book.  You might ask, "Is it that worse?"  And I shall tell you, "Yes, so far the worse of those I read by Stephen King."

The plot was good.  There were actually instances that I am so engaged to reading that I am confusing to reality.  The concept of a wife like Rose is truly something that is worth writing for.  The idea of redemption was unique.  I actually thought that it should be how everything should be, after being left with no choices.  How real can it get?  That is the question.  But still, I think there is something that was overdone here.  Like the detailed thoughts of Norman.  I think SK overdid it here.

The irony of it all is that is one thing I actually admire with Stephen King; the way he writes about the characters' imagination.  I'm just not sure why it seems that it doesn't apply here in this particular story.  I am close to thinking that I maybe longing for another kind of adventure or writer that I now view it in a different color.  I started exploring different writers and genres, I am even into classical novels.  I just don't know if this is one of the main reason why I think this way.  It's almost to say that I didn't enjoy the book because I was yearning so much to know the ending just so that I can start a new one.  I might have missed some adventures worth ruminating on because of this.  But I don't have any regrets.  The end wasn't what I expected, although I am giving it the thought that in this kind of situation - if I am in this situation -  this might be the one I can actually wish for.

THE END

ROSE MADDER

STEPHEN KING

I Repay

That's what she said.

And that's all what Rosie can remember, at least for now.  She was in a dream she can barely remember.  But a lot of things spring up telling her it may not be a dream at all.

Dreaming?

Too tired from two days of going out, I still managed to read a few pages of the book.  Rosie's on her conquest.  A different kind of quest.  I said on my previous post that this will take her out of the past and might change her future, I have yet to know.  But the thing is, she's either in a dream or she's dreaming of something real.  Again, I have yet to find out.  But it was hard.  Too hard.  This is a world far different from where she is now.  But wait, way too different from the world she lived in for fourteen years.

I think she will...   No, I pray[as if this is real] that she may get out of this not only alive, but be able to change everything in her life that she's been wanting to change.  Rosie's been through a lot and if I were in her shoes, it won't matter to me if this is a dream or living a dream.  I want to get this over and done with if it means that I will be able to live on my own, free and easy.  That I may be able to get a new haircut, read a novel (no matter what kind) and have a beautiful painting on the wall... that makes her hear crickets and see clovers.

I wouldn't really mind.... Hell, No!

Quests

This is the third time that I have read something on SK's books that deal with temples.    As far as I can remember, that is.  Last year, I read about three books by Stephen King and two of them had scenes on temples.

'Salem's Lot.

Duma Key.

Now, Rose Madder.  It's not that there is a pattern.  It's just that I am just awed by how SK uses this place as a start of the quests of the characters.  Sometimes, it even poses as a transformation place for these persons because it's as if they realize something as they pass through the temples of their stories.
You might think that there will be a similarity to these stories.  But no, there aren't.  Three very different stories.  One icon to deliver the message.

===============

I am now on the part where Rose is somewhere within something she doesn't know.  Like her, I am still trying to figure out whether it was just a dream, a reality or a part of the painting.  All of them seemed real, and if it were, then this has something to do with her quest to forget her past and change her future.

Inside

I stopped reading the book for a few days now.  I have been busy with a lot of things and the only time that I get to read it is during late afternoons when there is enough sunlight from the window near where I sit and do reading.  But having stopped reading doesn't mean that my mind was off the book.  I am actually thinking about it a lot oftentimes.  Like it sometimes just pops out of my mind.

Rose was able to get away.  Far.  About three hundred miles.  I kept on asking is it far enough?  How far is far enough?  Daniels is maybe three hundred miles away, but it only takes one snap and the memory will start everything again.  I sometimes feel afraid for Rose.  And even if I still have a lot to know what are those that she's been into during those fourteen years, I cannot help but imagine more things other than already told.

This happens.  To how many I don't know.  But sometimes it gives me the creeps just thinking about Rose; what more if I will know more, like give me a figure to give me an idea how much women are went through, are going through, and will go through what Rose has been through.

Is there anything we women can do to prevent this from happening?  How do we know that some guys are really prone to doing this?

Frankly, this is nothing new for Stephen King.  I have read "Dolores Claiborne" and I think it was really very creative.  As I read through the first few pages, I was thinking that this is another "Dolores."  I almost put it down thinking that I've read this kind of stuff already.  But then again, we know Stephen King... we don't know what is he still capable of thinking.  That's why I have always like reading his works.

But.

Having read a few classical stories like Dickens, Hugo, Fitzgerald, Eliot, I think I am missing the genre.  The fact that what I read before this was about the German/Hitler times, I think I'll grab another classical after King.

Rose

That's a point of pride with us.  And you'll eventually pay for your room and board, although we like to think the prices here are very reasonable.  She smiled that brief, preening smile again.  "You should be aware that the accommodations are a long way from fancy.  Most of the second floor has been turned into a dormitory.

How many women are like Rose?

This is the question that came up in my mind as I started reading the book, as I started reading about Rose.

She couldn't get out.  The worse part is she didn't want to get out.  Out of the house that she knew very well, out of the life that she's been living for the past fourteen years.  Her reason is simple.  But is this the same reason they all have?

All the women like her?

Broken Shifts

Alright.

I've had it.

I couldn't finish with David Baldacci's First Family.  I just lost interest, that's all.  I couldn't say that there were a lot of substories within the stories of the story because with Fyodor Dostoevsky's The Idiot, there were a lot of them, too.  It's just that I couldn't find anything to look forward to and couldn't care less what happened to the president's nephew.  I couldn't also say that the story is common these days, but I felt like murder and abduction are being committed at least once in a day and it's all in the news.

So, I decided to start with another.

It was hard because  have several books in line.  I have been wanting to read The Godfather and it got a little more intense when I started playing Mafia Wars on Face Book.  But this good friend of mine was able to borrow Stephen King's Night Shift from her husband's accommodation's library so I couldn't put it off because of the due date.

I started about a few days ago...

Then stopped.

Because it's really scary.

I didn't know if it's the story, or the way SK has written it (wonderful!) or is it my age that's affecting me.  They say that one acquires a lot of fears as one ages.  So, it might be true with me after all.  I tried to determine what is it that scares me.  If it was the story, I have been reading SK's books and there are a lot as scary or even scarier but it didn't affect me during my youth.  It might be my age.  I get scared that I might have nightmares as I did with Duma Key.  Or it might wake me in the middle of the night thinking about the story.  Or it might keep me awake at night because I think about the story.

Whatever it is.

I must face my fear.  [to quote one passage from the book, Dune]

I like the way Jerusalem's Lot is written.  I thought at first it wouldn't be effective for me, but again, I was wrong.  I began to like it that it is written as letters to someone.  The first time I have encountered such a 'format' of the story.

This is a book of 20 stories.  I might read it alternatively with The Godfather.  But it will all depend how scary they would get for me.

Dear Bones,
How good it was to step into the cold...

I like the 'hooker' REALLY!  They call the beginning sentence as 'hookers.'

What You Want?

Another book came in today.

My friends know that I love reading so they let me know if they have a book that they can lend me. Last night, a friend brought me "Night Shift" which is actually an old book by Stephen King. Yeah, they know, too, that I am into SK's books. So, to give me a background of what the book's all about, I read the introduction, not by SK but by someone named John D. Macdonald.

And here I quote him ( his reaction when people say: they want to write):

If you want to write, you write.

The only way to learn to write is by writing. And that would not be a useful approach to brain surgery.

Stephen King always wanted to write and he writes.

So he wrote 'Carrie' and 'Salem's Lot' and "The Shining,' and the good short stories you can read in this book, and a stupendous number of other stories and books and fragments and poems and essays and other unclassifiable things, most of them too wrteched to ever publish.

Because that is the way it is done.

Because there is no other way to do it. Not one other way.

Compulsive diligence is almost enough. But not quite. You have to have a taste for words. Gluttony. You have to want to roll in them. You have to read millions of them written by other people.

You read everyting with grinding envy or a weary contempt.

You save he most contempt for the people who conceal ineptitude with long words, Germanic sentence structure, obstrusive symbols, and no sense of story, pace, pr character.

Then you have to start knowing yourself so well that you begin to know other people. A piece of us is in every person we can meet.

A damn good piece of advice for me!

Hetton House

*image copied from Wikipedia

This is where Clayton Blaisedell, Jr. a.k.a. Blaze spent most of his childhood.

John was his best friend here.  So far, they've been through a lot together.  They became friends when John asked Blaze to save him from the bullies in exchange offered his help on his assignment and recitations, because Blaze is slow, especially in Arithmetic. "He had been able to get back the hang of adding two apples, but only with great effort, and a quarter of an apple plus half an apple was always going to be beyond him.  So far as he knew, apples only came in bites." You wouldn't believe how John thought of a way to get through with recitation through hand signals.  Believe me, I couldn't figure out how they did it and didn't spend time to figure it out.  At this point, I knew that somehow, Blaze got talent he only has to figure it out, to realize it.

Then, Blaze met George.  And his life was never the same.

Although George calls him stupid, I think he loves George more than anyone.  George reminds him of most of the things he forgot; until he died.  I think Blaze couldn't face this fact that's why George existed in his life all throughout.  I think he couldn't believe that he's capable of remembering and thinking because he depended on George on everything.  But so far, I know that Blaze has a talent, he just wasn't given a chance to discover it and be confident about it.

Probably to make George happy, he executed George's long-time plan of kidnapping Joe - the son of one of the richest man of their time.  I can't believe the tension and rush I felt as I read through how he was able to snatch Joe from their heavily guarded place.  At one point, when he got in the baby's room, my heart broke; but not for the baby.  My heart broke for Blaze that he was very amazed with the richness of the room of the baby.   That his childhood is trash compared to this infant's.

At this point, he's had the baby for only a few days.  But I feel that Blaze likes him.  I kinda feel sad that Blaze might be attached with the baby because he seems to bring him joy.  How long does this joy would last?  Would it be worth the $1 million ransom he is asking if he's going to be attached with the baby?

Probably not.

Probably yes.

As Wireman often  says to Edgar at the Big Pink, "Maybe si, maybe no."

BETWEEN THE LINES:

It was funny how little things could be so perfect and no one ever saw them.

It's funny, too - how your sense of things could change.

George is like the fox who couldn't reach the grapes and told everyone they are sour.

He knows the difference between what was dreams and what was real, but in the dark the difference seemed thinner.