This passage is from chapter twelve, as Jacob is trying to convince his friend Kris of the majesty of the Osprey.

They had hung out beneath the big Osprey nest, at the little peninsula the kids called “The Point,” for hours. They always went on different days of the week and at different times, in hopes of seeing something new from the bird. At dawn, at sunset, at noon. On weekends and weekdays, always for a glimpse of the majestic bird. To Jacob, it felt like they were on safari, like the guys on Wild America or those other nature shows. 

            Mostly, the Osprey just stayed there in the nest, almost mocking them. Perched in its nest, it looked out over the bay, waiting.

But every so often, if Jacob and Jon were very, very patient, the bird would stand up, spread its enormous wings, and fly from its perch out over the bay. If they were truly lucky, they would watch as it dove down to the water, stabbed out with its talons, and in an instant returned to flight with a living fish writhing in its claws. No matter how many times Jacob saw that, he was always amazed by it. The ruthless beauty of it gave him goosebumps.

            Jacob’s sketch showed the bird standing on a shore, its head turned toward the viewer, its huge eye looking out from the page defiantly. It was fierce, wild, angry. It had a small head, and enormous wings that spread out across two pages. It had a white body with dark wings and flecks of grey through the sides of its head. Its huge talons gripped a large fish struggling and failing to break free. There were fish guts dripping from the bird’s pointed beak. The Osprey was daring you to mess with it.

            It looked like a badass bird, and Jacob and Kris both knew it.

            “You said they have these things down at Indian Island?” Kris said, incredulous. “I never seen no bird that looked like that.”

            Jacob said, “That’s because you haven’t looked in the right places. C’mon and I’ll show you.”

This is from Chapter Two:

“There will never be another day like this, he thought. Tears sprang into the corners of his eyes at the idea of it. There would never be another last day of fourth grade/first day of summer when the finches land upon your hands as you hold out seed for them, when Suzie Vail asked you to her beach house, and Chaz Mancuso wanted to be your pal and offered you a job, when the streets were lined with shoppers eager beyond belief for the warm days ahead and the freedom those days promised. When those shoppers browsed the stores for beach chairs at Swezey’s and fishing line at Edward’s sporting goods and new tennis shoes at Stride Rite. When the sun blinded your eyes and the big cauliflower truck rumbled by, spewing diesel exhaust, bringing its bounty west to the big city, when the lunch counter at the Star Confectionary across the street was filled with kids getting ice cream floats, when he knew there were fifteen dates marked on his calendar for the little league season (and maybe this year his team, the Moose Lodge, would finally finish in the first division), when the Boston Terrier passing by at the end of an old man’s leash paused to consider him and then licked his hand free of pizza grease. It was an overabundance of goodness, and he wanted to savor it all, but he couldn’t.”

I finally saw this last night. The cinematography was amazing, and the team who worked on the ship design and various other props, sets and images that brought this film to life should be commended. The cast were very good, especially Oscar Isaac as Duke Leto and Rebecca Ferguson as Lady Jessica. I felt the movie really captured the look of Herbert’s world, much like Peter Jackson’s Lord of the Rings captured Middle-earth.

Like Jackson’s trilogy, this movie felt really rushed to me. Frank Herbert was so meticulous in planning all his ‘wheels within wheels’ that the film can’t help but gloss over certain details, and spend less time on things than the book did. The heart of Herbert’s novel lies in the political machinations, the backstabbing and double dealing between the different houses and characters, and we get very little of this in the movie. Nor do we hear much about mentats, or a lot of the other rich detail for which Herbert is so well known. I’m not knocking the movie here–it was a great achievement–but Herbert’s vision was so groundbreaking at the time, and has had such an enormous impact on science fiction, that I think it is almost impossible to do it justice, especially for fans who grew up with this book and have likely read it multiple times. As with Jackson’s movies, I enjoyed this interpretation for what it was, an amazing attempt at retelling a classic, beloved story. But I wanted more screen time for characters like Duncan Idaho and Gurney Halleck; alas, in a two and a half hour movie, there is a lot of ground to cover and it made me feel as if they didn’t quite get their due.

Certain events in the novel, like the threat of violence or the deaths of characters, are easier to read than they are to see. I think the book was more elegant in presenting some of this material, and there is something to be said for leaving it to the reader’s imagination. It is extremely disturbing to watch some of these scenes, (for example, the abduction of Jessica and Paul, and the death of Leto) and felt at times almost like a horror film. The hopelessness of what happens to House Atreides in the book, and the brutality of it, are bad enough to read about, and I felt myself cringing at some of these moments in the movie. Again, I am not really criticizing the film–this material is all in the book, and I guess I prefer the novel.

One thing I didn’t enjoy so much was the soundtrack. No doubt there is plenty of menace in Dune, but the entirety of the score for this sounded to my ears like a one note, jarring, explosive kind of thrumming bass that kept up in scene after scene. Yes, we know the material is dark. I don’t know that we needed that thunderous void of anti-music to remind us again and again. Where was Duncan Idaho’s baliset? Some of that would have been a nice break from the noise.

The ornithopters were awesome, as were all of the ships! The stillsuits, the costumes, the fight choreography, all of it was so well done. Kudos to the artists and teams of effects experts that brought this to life. I rate this movie four out of five stars, and probably five stars if you haven’t read Dune, which you really should. It may be old fashioned, but I prefer the novel as a medium. A novel requires more from an audience than a film, but the novel’s rewards are far greater. Although this movie was true to the book, its shortcomings highlight what an amazing world Frank Herbert created.

Retracing his best friend’s steps, Jacob visits the comic shop, Golden Memories, and we learn more of the Osprey Man.

In Chapter One last week, we met Jacob as he learned the devastating news of his best friend’s death. In Chapter Two, he begins to retrace Jonathan’s footsteps, and is befriended by a sympathetic older boy. Please download chapter two below, and let me know what you think in the comments, or by email.

Below is chapter one of my novel, THE OSPREY MAN, a coming of age tale about two young boys who form an unbreakable bond the summer their best friend is killed. It’s full of warmth and humor, and I hope readers enjoy it. Here is a brief description:

The time between childhood and adolescence is filled with wonder. Feelings of hope for the future, and sadness at what has been lost, are at the heart of The Osprey Man. When tragedy strikes, a young boy must find an inner strength he is not sure he has.

Jacob has been looking forward to summer all year long. As school comes to a close, he looks with anticipation to endless days of playing baseball, swimming at the beach, and writing his comic book, Osprey Man, with his best friend Jonathan.

            All that changes on the last day of school, when Jacob finds out that Jonathan has died in a car accident. Suddenly what was supposed to be the best time of the year turns out to be a summer he’d rather forget. At home, things seem nearly impossible to bear. Jacob’s brother died just a year before, and his parents are reeling and unable to help their son cope with the loss of his friend.

            Jacob wants to keep Jonathan’s memory alive. Can he make new friends while still holding Jonathan’s memory close? Can he help his family stick together even when things are looking down? By drawing new and more exciting issues of Osprey Man–the character Jacob and Jonathan created together–he tries to keep his friend’s memory alive even when it seems like everything is lost. By staying close to the things Jonathan loved, and the friends they both cherished, Jacob hopes to honor Jonathan’s memory and keep his spirit alive. And when things seem at their darkest, Jacob hopes the superhero they created might help save his summer, his friends, and maybe even his family.

            This novel is a tale of friendship, of growing up, and of the summertime between childhood and adolescence.

Please click the link below to read chapter one. Thank you for reading, and please drop me a line if you have any questions or comments. Best wishes, CT

THE OSPREY MAN, Chapter One

One of my favorite pastimes used to be hunting through used bookstores, looking for old, out of print, hard to find things and then adding them to my collection. Finding ancient pulp science fiction, or scholarly editions of books, or various anthologies and collections that were otherwise impossible to get was so much fun. There were many of these stores to choose from on Long Island when I was in college in the 90s. Even up until the past few years I still spent time at our local used bookstore in Poughkeepsie, a place called the Bookworm, where I found some amazing rare things and always came home with something fun to read. I’ve also had a lot of success with thriftbooks, alibris, and abebooks in finding books I want, but browsing online is not as fun as wandering around an old bookstore, the best of which always had a sleepy cat lying atop the shelves and a friendly face behind the counter eager to make recommendations.

Sadly, the Bookworm closed a few years ago. I guess there isn’t enough money in selling used paperbacks anymore. In retrospect, I suppose it was a miracle that the placed survived as long as it did. Now we have one used bookstore in town, an annex to our library. (Libraries are a whole other matter. I deeply love them, and as a librarian I am so grateful they were created, in a less cruel, less profit mad age, when the public good was still of importance. I don’t know that we’d be able to set up such a socialist, free model today, but that’s another story.) It’s nice to have that library bookstore, and I am glad it helps support our library, but it’s not the same. I have lately noticed folks browsing the shelves with apps, checking prices, leaving the place with armloads of things. It doesn’t seem to me like they want to read these books, but re-sell them. The books at this store usually cost fifty cents or a dollar, and I guess on ebay you can make a small profit from that. I don’t blame people for doing this, it’s an easy way to make some money and the economy is not good.

But I miss bookstores, the way they used to be. We have a Barnes and Noble in town, and it’s ok, I guess, but it seems more interested in selling lattes and stuffed animals and calendars than books, which take up a smaller section of the floor every year. I miss those overstuffed bookshelves, teeming with classics, filled with possibilities. I miss people perusing the shelves and chatting about authors, rather than staring at phones.

Lately when I go to a bookstore, I have an overwhelming feeling of sadness. I am not sure why. Partly it’s because I have some nostalgia for my youth, but I think it’s also because I am worried we’ve entered a post-literate society. Look around at the public discourse. It ain’t pretty. When people are unable to concentrate on complicated ideas, when they can’t form logical thoughts, when they forget or never learned how to read, we’re in deep trouble. Just look at our last leader, a man who probably never read a book in his life.

To bookstores and booksellers. May they last forever.

Two of my short stories are available online in The Mythic Circle. The Touch is the story of a young girl who is neglected by her parents and bullied by neighborhood kids, but learns that she possesses a very special ability. The Song of Thetis is the tale of a family torn apart when a young boy goes missing–but the boy’s father suspects an unnatural power has taken his son. I’m so pleased to be able to share these two supernatural tales in this season. Happy Halloween!

It’s almost my favorite holiday, Halloween. My family has been celebrating it for weeks, to be honest, as the season is very special for us. It seems a good time to mention that I had a book chapter published on one of my very favorite writers, a true original, Ray Bradbury. My essay is about From the Dust Returned, Bradbury’s wonderful late era ‘fix-up’ novel, and is called “Positioning From the Dust Returned in the Bradbury Canon.” It’s in a collection called ‘Exploring the Horror of Supernatural Fiction: Ray Bradbury’s Elliott Family.’

I’d suggest that everyone read From the Dust Returned, which is every bit as odd and grand as Bradbury’s other seasonal books, October Country, Something Wicked This Way Comes, and The Halloween Tree, to name just a few. He helped make Halloween the magical experience it is today for so many millions of children.

I’d also like to link to my own seasonal story, The All Hallows Knight, a tale of a young boy who suffers an awful loss, and then meets a spectral protector on Halloween.

It’s the most wonderful time of the year!

A short story I wrote, ‘The All Hallows Knight,’ was just published in a new issue of the journal Tales of Reverie. I’m excited that the editors liked this fantastic tale! You can read and share it at the link below. https://issuu.com/theparagonjournal/docs/final_version_tales_of_reverie/10