bookshelves of doom

Not an Onion article:

Stephen King plots The Shining sequel.

Stephen, I love you. 

But I'm asking you.  Please.  FOR THE LOVE OF GOD.  LET IT BE.

ANOTHER ONE??

I really, truly thought that the title of the book had just been changed.  And the cover art.  And the publisher.  And the author.

But, no.  As if one Scarlet Letter sequel wasn't enough.

This turn of events makes me want to punch myself in the face.  Because then maybe I could ignore the heartache.  Ag.  Ag ag ag ag ag.

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Previously:  How NOT to pull me in with your advertising campaign, #24.

Tom Cruise's New Moon audition.

Yes, OF COURSE it's a joke.  The guy's impersonation is so good that I found myself hating him as if he were actually guilty of being the real Tom Cruise!  Poor guy.  I hope people don't throw things at him on the street.

Oh, and I should note that I'm rather proud that I didn't recognize most of the quotes -- clearly, I've managed to avoid much of the TC oeuvre.  YES.  I RULE.

 

Things I Missed While I Was Sick, or, Things That Could Possibly Make Me Sick All Over Again.

So, I'm glad to be back.  I was sick sick sick sick sick for a long long long long long time.  So sick that I wished I was back at work.  Which is pretty sick.

Anyway, clearly I missed a whole lot while I was away from this Land of Wonder that we call the Internet.  I haven't even started getting caught up.

But I'm going to make a Bold Statement based on Nothing But Assumption and state that the A#1 Most Important thing I missed has to have been the Edward Cullen panties.

Now.  The first picture was scary enough, what with poor RPattz' brooding face centered squarely on one's frontal junkal area:

That, in itself, is clearly too too much.

But it gets worse.  The second picture made me want to take to my bed.  Again.  So peek at your own risk:

 

I just threw up.  And not just a little bit.  Thank goodness there are still barf buckets scattered throughout the house.

THANKFULLY, I scanned down through the comments at Best Week Ever (thanks for the link, Celia!) and discovered that these amazing pieces ARE NOT FOR SALE.  Rarely have I been so very relieved about something so very silly.  (The only thing that could top it at the moment is if Katie Holmes finally came to her senses and pushed Tom Cruise in front of a fast-moving steamroller.)

LESS THANKFULLY, I also found this link to an actual product (featured at everyone's new favorite site: Regretsy) in the comments.

How much food do you have stockpiled?

Because today is the day that NASA will bomb the moon!  You can follow their progress at the NASA website.

Hell.  We have practically no canned goods.

At least we have a lot of firewood.

If you've read the Pfeffer books, you understand my fears.  GAH!!

If you haven't read Life As We Knew It or The Dead & The Gone, you probably think I've gone bananas.  (You should read them.  Then you can go bananas with the rest of us.)

[Sidenote:  I like typing the word 'bananas'.]

Please, please, please let none of my stuff ever show up on this blog.

Via my sister-in-law, I give you:  REGRETSY.

As far as recent posts go, this (not for the faint of heart, also for mature audiences) is the winner.

I guarantee that you have never seen anything remotely similar.

And if you have, I would very much like to hear about it.

Good thing I work in a library.

Because I want nothing to do with this FTC nonsense.

The Christmas Mary Had Twins.

ERM.

This book cover is a million, zillion times more wrong than the one on The Secret Baby.  (Which, to be fair, wasn't really wrong.  It was just weird.)

Be sure that you note the tagline.

I was lucky to get a 3/10.

Yowch.

This quiz on exotic words is HARD.

This will not be a popular opinion.

The only thing?

That could make?

A Sweet Valley High movie more annoying?

Making Diablo Cody the boss of it.

...

...

Yes, I was one of the four people on the planet who didn't like Juno.

(news via @ecwpress)

A few questions.

Why is John Ritter on the cover of this romance novel?

  

Was John Ritter a Symbol of Romance in 1995?

Why did he bleach his hair?

John Ritter is going by the name Dante Nichellini?  Really?

Is he in love with popcorn girl, or afraid of her?

Is the book actually more romantic than the cover suggests?

What's wrong with Popcorn Girl's sleeve?

Where is John Ritter's other hand?

Why are they playing Scrabble in the basement?

How is that lamp providing so much light?

How could the former owner of this book discard it, knowing that it was autographed by the author (who has very nice penmanship)?

I'm open for more questions.

Blockbuster Mining.

If film adaptations of cherished books more often than not break your heart, then click on through.

(via Tanita)

"But genre fiction is, by definition, generic."

The genre v. literature debate reminds me of a conversation I have had with way too many people:

Random Music Snobby Pants Prone to Making Sweeping Generalizations:  All country music sucks.

Me:  Wow, so you think Johnny Cash sucks?

RMSPPtMSG:  Oh, he doesn't count as country music.

It's kind of like how Kate Atkinson's Jackson Brodie mysteries are quite often found in the regular fiction section, because, you know, she's literary.  So obviously she doesn't/wouldn't/couldn't-possibly write something as lowly as a mystery.

Along similar lines, Ursula K. Le Guin has an absolutely must-read review of Margaret Atwood's new book over at the Guardian.  As Margaret Atwood has said that she doesn't want her books thought of as science fiction (because, according to the review, "she doesn't want the literary bigots to shove her into the literary ghetto"), Le Guin says:

Who can blame her? I feel obliged to respect her wish, although it forces me, too, into a false position. I could talk about her new book more freely, more truly, if I could talk about it as what it is, using the lively vocabulary of modern science-fiction criticism, giving it the praise it deserves as a work of unusual cautionary imagination and satirical invention. As it is, I must restrict myself to the vocabulary and expectations suitable to a realistic novel, even if forced by those limitations into a less favourable stance.

More Twilight Merchandise, or My Eyes, MY EYES!

You know those middle-of-the-night bathroom runs that result in a stand-off with a scary axe-wielding serial killer that turns out to be an innocent coat rack when you finally work up the courage to turn on the light?  Well, the first item might cause some problems along those lines. 

The second item is just glittery wrongness -- especially as the makers suggest putting it in the fridge "for that authentic experience".  Of course, it's also hilarious.  And R-rated*.  So click through at your own risk.

(via Chrissy)

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*Or is it NC-17?  The ratings board seems to make up their own rules.  Have you seen this documentary, by the way?  (This trailer was not approved for all audiences -- not at all safe for work.)

To those of you who don't have a Zombie Apocalypse Contingency Plan: Get busy.

Until your plan is in place, just... avoid fungus?  And then ready your flame throwers. 

At Io9:

That's the heart of what is happening here: the fungus somehow forces the ant to do exactly what it wants. The ant first acts as a personal transportation service, conveying the fungus to exactly where it wants to be (the leafy forest floor), and then the ant dies and becomes an abundant food source for the fungus. The fungus even forces the ant to clamp its mandibles onto a desirable leaf habitat, where it stays locked until its death.

(Via Tanita's Facebook page.)

Incompatible.

That's the only word to describe my relationship with Heathcliff and Cathy*.  Regardless of the setting, era or their names, I think I'll always want to punch them both in the face.

So, due to nothing other than my own issues, I've decided to stop reading The Heights, Brian James' contemporary re-imagining of Wuthering Heights.  Because otherwise I might get more violent than I already am.

But someone else with a higher tolerance for their assiness should read it to let me know how it is. 

Because I am curious.  And I'd like to know if I should just get over myself and keep reading.

Maybe I'll talk my long-suffering co-worker into taking it home.

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*Oh, except for Heathcliff in Wuthering High.  But he was funny in that one.  And he was played for laughs in at least one of the Jasper Fforde books, too.

Ooo! Ooo! Look!

Salon lurrrves Hannah Friedman's Everything Sucks!

Want to know how to tell that they really, really love it?  That it's really super fantastic?

Because it's not like THAT OTHER YA:

Not only is Friedman's writing striking for its blunt, unromantic realism; her prose also displays a self-aware wit that is all too rare in the genre.

Her refusal to moralize or provide an easy resolution sets "Everything Sucks" apart from YA literature's preponderance of breezy, formulaic narratives.

Because a memoir marketed to YAs is exactly the same thing as a series novel marketed to YAs, or a SF novel marketed to YAs, or a historical fiction novel marketed to YAs, or a thriller marketed to YAs, or a romance marketed to YAs, or literary fiction marketed to YAs. 

I mean, heck, that's how we look at books marketed to adults, right?  When talking about whatever new memoir is taking the adult literary world by storm, it would be totally acceptable to say it was better than the majority of adult literature by comparing it to books by James Patterson, right?  Because not only does it make sense to compare a memoir to series fiction, it totally makes sense to take potshots at popular fiction while we're at it?

I am so over this garbage. 

(link via LizB who got it via Omnivoracious)

Twins.

Real, non-horror-movie family photos should never be this scary:

 

More at mental_floss.

Where there's a best-selling novel...

...there's bound to be a plagiarism claim.

Here's the letter with the claimant's analysis -- I scanned down through, but I couldn't read it all.  It's just too early in the morning for me to deal with Bella Swan. 

From what I did read, the claim seems pretty weak -- while both authors use some of the same words in similar situations, the word choices seem totally obvious and the passages from both books just read as hideously clichéd.  Somehow I doubt that Stephenie Meyer needed to read Nocturne for the inspiration to give Edward the annoying habit of calling Bella "love" all the time. 

Though I'm somewhat impressed that both authors came up with such terrible names for the vampire spawn:  Renesmee v. Requiem.  Good lord.  They could be American Gladiators.

(via sarahw)

My zombie prediction:

They (you know -- THEY) are going to saturate the market and ruin the fun.

The zombie Beatles?  REALLY?

Grrrrrr.

So.  Some work is being done on our road.

And although I don't have to be at work until eleven today, I had to leave the house THREE HOURS EARLY because Mrs. Across The Street is apparently An Insanely Important Road-Fixing Expert Genius Woman, and found it necessary to stand in the middle of the road and yell directions and advice to the Road Commissioner.  Loudly.  Right outside my living room window.

So my Tasha Alexander write-up may be postponed.

I will watch this video again and again until my rage cools to a simmer:

Yecch.

The Secret:  For Teens.

I'm visualizing an end to the gd rain and I'm visualizing myself NOT wearing a wool sweater in late July.

I'm visualizing a bucket of gold doubloons sitting on my living room floor.

I'm visualizing all annoying books growing little legs and marching away, away, away.

In honor of New Moon...

...Nordstrom has debuted the ugliest $32 t-shirt of all time:

 

It (and the rest of the line) is likely to sell like gangbusters, though I'd much rather see the Twihards making and wearing their own awesomely insane creations.

Twilight Tattoo Gallery.

DUDE.  Other than wondering if some of these girls are going to have some serious regrets in a few years, I have no words:

 

(via Omnivoracious)

Sidious.

GAH:

 

(via Brian)

What is it about celebrities, food and plagiarism?

Following in the illustrious footsteps of Jessica Seinfeld, Elizabeth Hasselbeck has been accused of swiping passages from someone else's book and using them in her guidebook to gluten-free living.

Seeking recommendations of...

...witty historical fiction romantic suspense/thriller/mysteries a la Elizabeth Peters and Deanna Raybourn. 

I picked up an Amanda Quick yesterday, and while I'm finding it entertaining*, it's chock-full of ridiculously unbelievable infodump dialogue along these lines:  "As we both know... blah blah blah here's some information that the author needs to convey to the reader blah blah". 

So annoying.  Help me out, eh?

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*Yowzer.  The main characters boinked almost immediately.  And then the lady thought the guy died in a fire so she pretended that she was his widow so that it would be easier for her to start her own business but of course he wasn't really dead so he went to a gossip columnist and was all, "IT'S A MIRACLE, I'M ALIVE!  THE AMNESIA I GOT IN THE WILD WEST IS GONE AND I CAN'T WAIT TO SEE MY WIFE AGAIN!"  And now he's living in her attic because he's worried that a thief who is after some old alchemy artifacts will come after her!!!

I assume you understand why I've continued reading despite my issues with the writing.

Coop to escape the Black Lodge...

...via webisode?

Riiiight.

Noooooooooooo!

Barbie and Ken as -- you guessed it -- Bella and Edward.

GAH!!

Crimes Against Photoshop at SBTB.

Because if it works once*, it'll work thirteen more times.

From PW:

HarperCollins Children’s Books has acquired world rights to 13 children’s books featuring the Labrador John Grogan wrote about in his bestselling memoir, Marley & Me.

I'm sorry, but gag me.

And also, BO-RING.

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*My mistake.  Apparently, there are already two Marley picture books in addition to the middle grade adaptation of the adult memoir.

Because I need another blog to follow*.

The Ugliest Products in the Universe.

It features products like this:

Because, of course, Crocs aren't ugly enough**.

(via Sharyn November)

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*Sarcasm!  SAARRCASSMMM!

**Yes, yes, I know, they're so comfortable.  That doesn't make them pretty.

Nooooooooo!

I just heard back from the publicist, and Posh and Prejudice got pushed back to December.

Which means you'll have to wait ages for it and I'll have to wait even longer for the third installment. 

NOOOOOOOOOOO!

I loaned both ARCs to my co-worker and she said that while she really liked the first one, she thought that the second blew it right out of the water.  So put 'em both on your TBR lists, kiddos, even though there's going to be a horrid, horrid wait.

If you feel like giving yourself a head (or heart) ache:

The 46 Remakes/Reboots on Tap...because Hollywood hates your memories.

At first I thought there was no way (A remake of Mona Lisa?  Who would dare??) but then I started seeing more and more titles that I already knew about.

WOE.

If you don't like something...

...just burn it down!

Note:  I AM BEING SARCASTIC.

See, I had a real affection for the Topless Coffee Shop.  Not because I ever went -- I can't remember the last time I was actually in Vassalboro -- but because it's been in the news here for a good year now, and the fact that the story has made our local newscasters say 'Topless Coffee Shop' on a weekly basis for that long just made me laugh.

I think it's horrible that someone torched it.  And I think that the lady quoted in the article, while expressing a similar sentiment, might be a little confused about how that glass houses/stones saying works.

Emily the Strange lawsuit: in backwardsland.

I am so very off my game -- this story broke a couple of weeks ago:

So, in an example of how twisted our legal system can be, Cosmic Debris (owners of the Emily the Strange property) has sued Marjorie Sharmat and Marc Simont.

There's a bit more in this SLJ article.

(via Tea Cozy and You Thought We Wouldn't Notice)

Remember how I wanted to post a picture of the teenie weenie blue-and-yellow bathing suit Kevin Bacon wore in Friday the 13th?

But I didn't because I couldn't find it anywhere?

Well, my friend Adam has come through for me again.  (As usual.)

A word of warning:  It's rather... bulgy... 

Blind possessed choir boys.

How did we live before the literal video genre appeared?  Seriously.

Via Roger.

The Agatha Christie Murders.

Sounds like a book title, no?  Well, it probably will be one at some point, if it isn't already. 

From the Guardian:

Police in Iran believe they have caught the country's first female serial killer and are claiming she has disclosed a literary inspiration behind her attempts to evade detection: the crime novels of Agatha Christie.

The Sherlock Holmes trailer.

Okay.

I love me some Robert Downey, Jr., but I'm not sure if I can get behind this:

Huh.

It's odd that this PW article on the upcoming Emily the Strange book didn't mention the similarities to Rosamund from the Nate the Great series that were commented on last year.

I mean, it's related, right?  And I would think, of interest.

Ah.  It was mentioned in the comments section.

[A bit later:  I just checked the Discussion page on the Emily the Strange Wikipedia article, and it looks like the Emily/Rosamund debate continues -- so I'm assuming that there's been no new news.  Or news at all, really.]

Thank you.

I'm glad someone else notices this stuff.  There's tons and tons more (for instance!) at the movie mistakes website, but it's also annoyingly ad-heavy.

She had to have been in a bad, bad place.

Feds say Pa. postal worker stole 'breakup book'

If you haven't been following the Russet Noon saga...

...you should start.

A simple solution for Michael Jackson.

So you were going to auction everything off, but then backed out.  Right?  Right.

I can't blame you.  If I'd collected a pile of crazy that big (oh god, I WISH), I wouldn't want to give it up either.

So here's the solution -- which would keep the insanity intact, as it should be -- get someone to loan you some money (that might be the difficult part), put it all in some sort of Michael Jackson's Psycho Psyche Museum, and then charge admission.  Then kick back and live off of the proceeds of that and your Gift Shop of Crazy.  I'm sure there are plenty of people who'd pay to see it in person.

I know I would.

(link via HBS Steve)

Just when I thought...

...that due to his recent marriage, Ryan Adams must have grown into less of a huge jackass*, I read this interview.

Clearly I was mistaken.

Unless he's being, you know, funny.  By trying to come off as a caricature of the most pretentious person on the planet.  But I really don't know if I believe that that's what he's doing.

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*I love his music, but wow.  He's always struck me as someone that I'd want to slap in real life. 

Oh, COME ON.

They're remaking Clash of the Titans? 

The only way I'll find it acceptable is if Harry Hamlin plays Zeus.  And wears a teeny tiny little skirt.

After a bit more reading:  Nope.  Liam Neeson is playing Zeus.  Well, they can all just go to Hades.  Jerks.

Can I just say...

...yet again, that I HATE the K-9 makeover?

Poor little guy. 

No no no no no no no no no no NO!

So there I was, innocently catching up on my feed reader after a few days of loafing, and there it was:

The Worst Book-to-Film News of All Time.

I am devastated.

I'm still being haunted by the craptastic Transformers.

Was I the only one who thought that there was something incredibly skeevy about the last shot with Shia and the Hot Car Thief Girl making out on Bumblebee's hood?  I mean, they know he's a sentient being and all.  And yet, there they are, rolling around on him, sucking face in the sunset.  AND the other guys are all just standing right there, looking on?  Eeew.

I wish I could erase the entire movie from my brain.