Book Reviews

Man, this a lot of books for one set of reviews... I didn't think it had been that long, but its been 27 days since the last one... Odds are I missed a book at some point.

THE SPELL OF THE SORCERER'S SKULL
JOHN BELLAIRS


1984, 170 PAGES

A classic. This is probably one of my favorite Bellairs, has some fun images and great ideas, topped off by Gorey art - What's better, I ask? Hooray to my friend Mike's dog for chewing the cover so that they had to buy it from the library.

8/10

SERPENT
CLIVE CUSSLER

1999, 470 PAGES

One of the better Cussler's, in my opinion. Age old mysteries surrounding who really reached the Americas first, undersea explorations, treasure, no cameo by the big man himself, rock and roll!

7/10


STOWAWAY
KAREN HESSE

2000, 319 PAGES

I would imagine a HUGE amount oif research went into this book. Written from the diary view of a young stowaway on Captain Cook's Endeavour, it gives a great feel for daily ship life. It wasn't extremely engaging, and with true life historical novels like this, I always feel that the research plays a much bigger part than the actual writing, but a good book. Fun Fact - Books like this, with short diary entries are perfect reading for bathrooms!

7/10


THE STONES ARE HATCHING
GERALDINE McCAUGHREAN

1999, 230 PAGES

I checked this book out, primarily because if I ever get published, I would be very close to her name on bookstore shelves. Damn, I'm glad I did. Her style of writing is fascinating and beautiful, with sentences that I read twice, just because I liked them so much. Very Highly reccommended.

9/10


WICKED BREAK
JEFF SHELBY

2006, 247 PAGES

Whoo-hoo! A slacker/surfer/PI old-school mystery! Cracking story, wise-ass men and an interesting plot. Surfs Up!

7/10


SAND DOLLARS
CHARLES KNIEF

1998, 322 PAGES

Hawaiian detective, houseboats, hot nights, hotter ladies, even hotter lead, money, violence, humor, geriatric gunmen! Oh yeah, one other thing, enjoyment!

Only nit-pick... I can only assume that last name is made up... Cheesy!

8/10


THE FIGURE IN THE SHADOWS
JOHN BELLAIRS

1975, 155 PAGES

This book is currently late being returned to the Marshall Public Library. My current fine is $1.30. If I could only get my hands on a magic amulet that would help me erase my fine!

7/10


ROSES ARE RED
JAMES PATTERSON

2000, 404 PAGES

A semi-early patterson novel, his famed detective Alex Cross finds himself against a bank robber and killer named the mastermind who may just live up to the name. It spends a lot of time building an ineteresting case, but seems to run out of bullets a bit too soon.

5/10


THE CABINET OF WONDERS
(THE KRONOS CHRONICLES: BOOK 1)
MARIE RUTKOSKI

2008, 258 PAGES

Loved everything about this book, from the gorgeous cover, to the creative world, to the perfect storyline, pretty much perfect! I must buy this asap.

9/10


THE SIGN OF THE SINISTER SORCERER
(A JOHN BELLAIRS MYSTERY)
BRAD STRICKLAND

2008, 168 PAGES

I hadn't planned to get yet another Bellairs/Strickland book, but this had a giant Three on the cover, so my friend Thom would have disowned me for passing it up. Sorcerers, baseball and creepy puppets, pretty much par for the course in creepy, gothic, 1950's Michigan.

6/10


KOCKROACH
TYLER KNOX

2007, 356 PAGES

This was a last minute grab at the library, and damn, I'm glad I did. A Cockroach turns into a man, learns what that means, eats, mates, creates a criminal syndicate and survives, like all cockroaches. Amazingly great book. Riveting.

9/10


THE KING IN THE WINDOW
ADAM GOPNIK

2005, 410 PAGES

I'm still really torn about this book. I love the ideas and some of the imagery is striking, but it seemed kind of uneven in places and they placed unneccesary emphasis on a few things that never played right to me. Nice young adult fantasy about a boy who is accidentally nominated the king of the window wraiths.

6/10

June 11, 2009 - Michelle Obama Still Owes Me An Apology!

Life -

Last night, I had the nit picky customer call again, to check and see if I had changed the Stationary sign to Stationery. I snarkily responded that "Ironically, it hadn't changed" I don't think she got the joke. I wanted to ask her if she ever got her apology from Michelle Obama, but I figured I'd pushed it enough. (Amusingly, I just saw that if you type in "Michelle Obama Owes Me An Apology" in google, this blog is the first thing to show up after a few links to Ann Coulter.... I'm not sure if that's good or not.)

Another fun night at work last night, had a mentally unstable customer that has hated me inexplicably since the day she met me come in and every time she sees that it's me managing, she causes problems, makes messes, then refuses to let me ring her up. Instead, she asks me to bag the stuff so that she can buy it later. Ugh. Luckily, my hatred is stemmed by how much I pity her.

I also had a guy that in his own words was "Falling down $#itfaced drunk and just got done at the titty bar!" He claimed to be a famous author who had written a book whose title he could not recall, yet was shocked that I'd never heard of it. He was also unable to tell me his name... Not sure how I'll find it, but I totally want to read his book now! The famous author also offended my clerk by calling her "Woman" paid for an $.89 cigar with 3 quarters and lit up in the vestibule. He wanted me to call his agent in Colorado, but I figured that regardless of the truth in his delusions, no one wanted to be called at 3am, so I got him a cab instead. By the time the cab had gotten there, the fella was across the street harassing the road crew. Funny guy. Linz, who had just gotten off work and D, my night clerk were kind of freaked out by him, but he definitely had the "Harmless old drunk" vibe going, so I got a kick out of him. I guess I've gotten a pretty good Drunk-dar after working at Chevron and on Graves for so many years.

We bought a slightly spendy Humidifying fan setup at Home Depot yesterday, all sorts of pumped about the idea of cool, moist air filtering through our bedroom in the afternoons while we sleep, filled the reservoir only to have it start spewing from a huge crack in the lining... back to Home Depot it goes... Shoddy Workmanship. We'll probably pass on a second try too, I hate to bring it home just to have the next one faulty as well.

Overworked my ankle last night, I figured out a pretty efficient way of wearing my brace and a shoe that gives me some support and protection (And keeps my sock cleaner) but it apparently makes me cocky. I did a few things last night that turned into a bit of pain. That said, I was significantly more functional than I've been in weeks now.

Writing -

Finished the revision on my second to last chapter, just have the epilogue to re-write before a final edit and mailing it off.... Eeee!

Also read about a certain disease that could add a bit of vague plausibility to my zombie novel that is an approach that I haven't seen before to the best of my knowledge, so that's cool. And lets face it, for a zombie story, you really don't need any plausible causes, so its just an added plus!

The Last Sentence -

It seemed like she always got the crazies when she worked a double, regardless of whether it was the night shift or the overnight shift.

From Graves

May 5th, 2009 "Is it a full moon?!?"

Apparently, the insanity of working graves is not exclusively a weekend thing.

Last night, we had a few memorable events as well.

D, my bumbling, but good natured, soon to be LDS missionary had recently broken up with his girlfriend of a few months via text message. It was clearly mostly her fault, but when you involve a somewhat naive young man and the impersonal nature of texting, I'm sure things got out of hand. At any rate,things were getting a bit out of hand last night, and after a but, he received a message from her. "you should go look at your truck." Obviously, that is a phrase that would strike fear into any young man, recently torn asunder by a woman, and he started to panic. I volunteered to go check it, and found the promise ring he bought for her dangling from the antenna, rather than any kind of horrible vehicular chaos. He was still pretty on edge though, so I gave him a pretty light list of duties for the evening, mostly staying in the photo lab and developing film.

Later that night, as I was working in the stockroom, up on a ladder, he paged me to call photo for customer assistance. Turns out, there was a customer up there that had tried to buy a couple bags of groceries on his quest card. (The Quest card is a state issued card that is used like a debit card for purchases, usually for either food only monies, or it is also issued for child support and the like.) He explained to me that one of the items the customer wanted wasn't on file, so it wasn't registered in the system as food, therefore, the guys card wouldn't pay for it. I could hear the tension in D's voice, and the customer sounded a bit irate, so I told him I'd be right up.

As I headed up, I saw the customer, it was one of our troublemaking regulars, Tweaked-Out Meth-Head guy! I hated this dude. Every time he's in, he causes problems, either trying to get deals, outright lying about pricing, or trying to steal items. I pretty much knew by the time I got up there, that if he gave me any crap, I was ousting him. Frankly, it was a long time coming, and I would enjoy it. He immediately started shouting at me, arguing with me before I had even assessed the situation fully, pretty much sure that I was out to hose him. I explained to him that I couldn't sell him the Jimmy Dean Breakfast biscuits until I had gone in and placed them on file, so I would have to delete the entire transaction and start over, either ringing him up without the biscuits, or he would have to wait until I could properly code them. Naturally, throughout the entire explanation, he was ignoring me and shouting, while his girlfriend looked on in embarrassment, at point even apologising about him, saying that he "Is an @$$hole in every store like this." Throughout, Tweaky kept shouting and becoming more agitated, scratching at the sores on his face and waving his hands about in a horribly disgusting manner.

Finally, hitching up his outlandish midget smuggling pants, he ran over to the freezer and tried to force me to sell him something else that was the same price, and give him the biscuits instead. His girlfriend and I both tried to explain that it didn't work that way, but he ignored us and got more angry. Finally, I'd had enough. I walked up to him and told him to leave. Immediately. He tried to grab the bags of product that he had not paid for, and I politely told him that they were not purchased and that his girlfriend would have to pay for them, because he was leaving now. He started shouting at me, getting up in my face (My grill as he put it) and threatened to call my district manager, who... I dunno, maybe he was gold buddies with.... and I looked over at D and told him to call the police immediately. Tweaky still stood there trying to take the bags of food. I tried explaining to him that they were not paid for, and that I would be more than happy to get him a copy of the receipt, after he had left the building. I started gently herding him towards the door by inching closer to his as he shouted, listening to D as he awkwardly tried to tell the police what was going on. Apparently he'd never called 911 before.

Once Tweaky realized he was at the door to the store, he angerly stormed out, telling me that I was making a big F-ing mistake, because he was gonna get a F'ing job here and then I'd be F'd! The F word was an amazing versatile word in Tweaky's vocabulary. I calmly explained to him that we weren't hiring now, and in fact we weren't even drug testing now, just accepting apps. He went off again, accusing me of calling him a druggie. I would never make such snap judgements about someone that weighed 98 pounds, had giant oozing sores all over his face, rotted teeth, bloodshot eyes and kept shaking so bad that his pants kept falling off. Never!

Once he was finally out of the store, I told him that he was to wait until I returned with his copy of the receipt and for his girlfriend to buy his stuff, and then he was to leave. If I saw him again, he would be cited for trespassing. I returned inside to the dulcet tones of the F word in many forms. It was like my theme song that plays when I enter a room!

As I went past the girlfriend, I explained to her that she was still welcome in, but he was not. She apologized for his actions and said that he was like that all of the time. A customer asked her the question that I couldn't; Then why are you still with him??? Sadly, I knew why, she wasn't clean either, and some people can't leave situations like that. Whether its that they still think its not as bad as they think, or that they know its as bad or worse than it appears and they still can't leave I don't know, but sadly, it happens a lot.

I took my time in the pharmacy getting his copy of the receipt, knowing he wasn't leaving without it, because while he knew he was full of crap, just like every other time, he would keep a death's grip on that crap, even when it was proven clearly that all he held was indeed a big pile of poo, and I wanted the Pocatello Police to have ample time to arrive.

Turns out I took a bit too long, there were three cruisers out front, lights flashing. Two were talking to Tweaky while the third was off to the side on his walkie. I walked over and at the officer's request explained the situation. I was constantly interrupted by the dude, who kept accusing me of yelling at him, after which, each time, the officer would gently remind him that I was not yelling, that he was yelling, and for him to keep his hands out of his pockets.

As I finished with my side of the story, cop #3 came over and verified Tweaky's name and birthdate. After Tweaky said yes, he turned to me and asked me to step back to the store while they discussed it with Tweaky in private. As we watched bemused, from the door of the store, Tweaky became more animated and started waving his hands, shouting something. The police calmly turned him around, cuffed him and pushed him against the hood of his car.

Cop number one came over and peeked his head in at us. "Turns out "Tweaky" has a few open warrants for his arrest, so he's heading to jail. Thanks for the call guys!"

I was shocked! Shocked, I tell you!!!

Mr. Wizard, my night pharmacist came around the corner at that point and said "Is it a full moon?!?" because contrary to logic, people do get nuttier on a Full Moon, whether it's the moon that makes them crazy or they act crazier because they think they're supposed to, I don't know. Sadly, the full moon isn't for a few more days.... Which means tonight should be interesting....


Also, the biscuits were totally not worth the excitement! Pretty dry tasting, in fact.

Saturdays In The Graveyard

How does a typical night go, working a graveyard shift at a 24 hour Pharmacy, you ask?

Friday,
2:45pm - Finally stagger into bed.

7pm - Wake up, get a drink, take some Ibuprofen, check email. (Learn that another potential Motel has officially been crossed off the list) Briefly call wife, fall back to sleep.

8pm - Pooka wants to cuddle; briefly tolerate the big galoot, eventually telling him to go lay down; go back to sleep.

8:45 - Pooka wants to cuddle again, signals such by sitting on face.

9pm - Give up and get out of bed.

9:30 - Make a sandwich, feed the pets, gather work stuff, try not to fall back to sleep, read for a few minutes.

10:32pm - Get to work, count safe, run end of day, make list of work for evening, sort new ad tags, double check pulling of old ad tags, make clever collage of missed tags on previous manager's locker.

11:15pm - The crazies start arriving; 300lb mumbling lady, twitchy meth head, 14 year old teens goofing off, native mother with kids that she doesn't watch, the regulars, the sick folks from the ER.

Saturday,

12:15am - Crazies finally stop, buy Guava Rockstar, Popcorn, discuss list of work with clerk, briefly talk on phone to wife to tell her goodnight, get interrupted 3 times in a 4 minute call.

1:15am - Start hanging ad tags, follow likely shoplifter around store.

1:30am - Legitimately insane customers arrive; Tweakers asking about spray paint, Meth Heads in midget smuggling pants trying to pass fake scripts, 90 year olds buying 12oz bottles of lube, the guy that rides his bike with his oxygen tank in the flower basket in the front to buy cigs, the schizo lady that always calls you the wrong name and gets angry when you correct her, the clearance price tag swappers, the drunken bar ejects, the heavyset Hispanic lady in clothes 3 sizes too small that asks everyone she meets if they like her new shoes; a pair of firetruck red 6 inch stilettos, the cross dresser that's better looking than most of the other women in the store, the cool gay couple that freaks out my clerk when they buy the Trojan His and Hers lube, the vegan New Yorker with the large growth on the side of her face that often tells me stories of UFOs, Conspiracies, her father running a speakeasy during prohibition, and all of the television shows she tapes to watch over and over, we often discuss Commentary tracks on DVDs, the "dancers" from the strip club; just off shift, replenishing my singles supply, the hunched over man that looks like Santa Claus who follows me for hours some nights, towing his O2 tank and telling me horribly off color jokes...

2:15am - a new one; a guy comes in asking me if I can change the photo on his passport; he's lost weight, and wants a new picture. He also tells me that he's unhappy with his cat's passport photo. Sadly, he never shows me his cat's passport. The customer then proceeds to follow me for a half hour, talking about his Winnebago, his job as a airplane repairman, crossing the border in his scooter, how he chemically removed his fingerprints on accident, ("They're like Teflon, now!") his guns, lifting his shirt to show me his operation scars, asking me to stitch up a cut on his finger, and finally asking me out to see his guns in his Winnebago. Sadly, I could not leave the store and view the guns that belong to the man with no fingerprints and a face that doesn't match his passport...

3am - Finally start moving the 300 cases of Coke 12 packs that we will likely sell by Monday afternoon to the front.

3:15am - Send clerk to Rolbertos 24 hour Mexican restaurant for lunch, we (Me, him, the Pharmacist) each order a breakfast burrito, I ordered Sausage, egg, cheese & Potato with sour cream, mine comes labeled "Sasaugoa" on the wrapper and sans egg and sour cream. It appears my sour cream ended up in my clerk's Ham burro, my eggs are likely in someones taco salad somewhere... all in all, a pretty accurate night for Rolbertos. Drink Rockstar, AKA Purple Meth.

4:15am - Attempt to motivate clerk to continue stacking endless piles of Coke, finish most of ad tags. Regular customer comes in, an awesome older lady that is slowly dying. She's almost 10lbs lighter than when I saw her last week, her otherwise frail frame thrown crooked by her left leg, swollen with fluid. She tells me that her upcoming operation has a 50/50 chance of survival. I sell her Ice, a pair of pajama pants and a package of ham, and wish her luck. She tells me to cross my fingers, but not my toes, or I'll walk funny.

6am - Finally finish all of the ad and Coke, clean up store, scrub bathrooms, clean up mess from Cadbury egg fight on aisle 6, wake my clerk, asleep on the photo counter, catch breath outside in the thankfully snow free air.

7am - Light pours through the front windows, blinding me, and making me shy away, Nosferatu style. The second the sun hits, I start getting tired, eyes drooping. Browse through Sunday paper, "Shoplifting" information.

8:45 - reinforcements arrive. Flee building, the combination of clocking out, putting on my jacket and staggering into the sun energizing me slightly, though still daunted by the list of chores ahead at home, concerned about what time I'll make it to bed.....