You probably remember my little impromptu review of Seven Steeples by Sara Baume, a poetic novel in which nothing much happens, very slowly, and I loved it. I have since picked up Fairy Tale, the latest from Stephen King, and though I have not finished it, I’m here to tell you that I must not be the only person who is ready for slower-paced storytelling.

Fairy Tale is, so far, a very good story. The main character, Charlie, is a young man looking back on teenage adventures in the late aughts, when he saved an old man who had fallen off a ladder and then found a bucket of gold in the man’s closet, to be extremely brief and vague about it. Charlie’s had his share of tragedy in his life and things have turned out okay, so he figures he owes the universe a favor in the form of caring for this man and his ancient German shepherd.

This being Stephen King, you might wonder where the weird stuff happens. When things get spooky and/or vibrantly violent. There is a lot of foreshadowing, and events are carefully placed to pay off, but that means the narrative builds slowly. King really wants the reader to get to know Charlie, his dad, Mr. Bowditch (the old man), and Radar, the dog, so that when things get weird, you care. That goes double for Radar, because I think this is really a story about the heartbreak of aging dogs.

I’ve seen some readers saying that they wished an editor would have trimmed King’s preamble a bit, but I’ve been quite happy to read along with every word and let the narrative build slowly. I think I’m burned out on Marvel-style breakneck paces and stories that start in media res, where the reader is dropped directly into an action scene or crisis. I’ve also enjoyed The Sandman on Netflix, which has slower pacing than many shows. And I recently watched Guillermo del Toro’s Crimson Peak, an Edwardian-era ghost story released in 2015 that has a slow-burn beginning (also on Netflix and a good spooky-season movie).

If the writing is good, I’m going to turn pages. And if the production is good, I’m going to keep watching. I don’t need to be stunned into staying with the story.

Bits and Bobs of Readings

Hilary Mantel died recently, and the London Review of Books removed the paywall from everything she’s ever written for them — all 55 pieces for the paper and 4 letters. And everyone knows the LRB’s letters are the best part of the publication. If you’ve never read her work, the Wolf Hall trilogy won awards for reasons. But outside of that series, she preferred to not repeat herself, writing in several genres with her distinctive style. You can’t really go wrong with any title of hers that piques your interest.

I talk about medieval stuff a lot because I love it, and you might be thinking you don’t like medieval stuff yourself. I am willing to bet that Weird Medieval Guys will change your mind. I mean, come on.

Speaking of medieval, I finally got around to reading The Mere Wife by Maria Dahvana Headley, a very good modern-day retelling of sorts of Beowulf.

I also finally got around to reading Zen in the Art of Writing by Ray Bradbury, which I’d downloaded for, like, a dollar years ago and then let sit unopened on my ereader. Interestingly, it’s not easily available anymore and may be out of print at this point. It’s a fine book if you like Bradbury (I do), but the writing advice boils down to “be Ray Bradbury at this particular time and place,” which is pretty difficult advice for anyone else to put into practice.

How is grad school going, you ask? It’s going fine, thank you. One paper on Ulysses is turned in and the second is in the works, and I’m learning Old English verbs. I am frustrated at my limited OE vocabulary, but it’s only been a month and a half. Slow beginnings, right?

Majestic af.

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