Friday, February 4, 2005

You may have given yesterday’s link a cursory glance, gentle reader, and if that’s the case I’d suggest exploring the story fully. It’s no great American novel, yet it doesn’t seek to claim that mantle. The format isn’t mindblowingly innovative, as the author freely admits, nor is the central conceit earthshaking, but it’s an entertaining horror story, heavy-handed at times, spun with care and fun pacing.

If nothing else, it’s an interesting study of motion. Notice how the author propels the tale forward, the devices he employs, the suspense created by something as simple as sentence length. Short, clipped phrases. No time to breathe. Electric.

Speaking of clipped phrases, we’ll reconvene on Monday to discuss the inner workings of e-mail closings. Sometimes, many times, what you see isn’t what you get. Right now, I’m mentally preparing myself for a horrific cycle of tossing and re-tossing a damned bowling ball. It’s purgatory, a gaping maw of hell whose lolling tongue looks suspiciously like a stretch of waxed wooden floor. Stay sane this weekend, okay?