-Vincent

I’m stoked.

I definitely suggest if you like zombie stories.

Five-Star. I will read more of his work.

It’s the future, and the world is in chaos. Four hundred years ago, humans stopped aging. Few knew why, and the Change cast the world into despair. Now, the powerful elite, The Establishment, rule the world.

And a bleak society it is.

Food is limited. Jobs are limited. Homelessness and slavery are the norm as people struggle to get by.

I love dystopian novels. The Immortality Virus was a wonderful read. I loved the beginning, where the author set up a bleak world. People fighting over food. Death and mayhem exist everywhere, and people don’t seem to care. As is typical in dystopian-and what causes me to love it-is people’s acceptance of such a bleak life. A life where collective thought has brought humanity to its end.

The author’s writing is engaging. Dialogue is solid, and the story moves quickly. I felt there were a few slow moments, but nothing distracting. My only complaint is the book cover. There were times I felt I wanted to know the characters better, but again, nothing distracting.

Overall, The Immorality Virus is a wonderful book. The author has talent, and I will read more of her work.

To find out more about the author:

Click Here

The Hour of the Time

by Vincent Hobbes

Download to your eReader FREE!

http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/57833

Read online FREE!

http://vincenthobbes.com/projects/the-endlands/sample-story/

Yet, though I don’t read much of it, it seems lately I’ve read more than my norm.

My publisher suggested I read The Dawning of Power. He even let me borrow his copy. I’ll admit, I nearly put this book down. At the start, I was lost. I wasn’t into it. A bit bored. Perhaps it was reading too late at night. Perhaps it was just my mood. No matter, I sat the book down for a week.

Usually, it’s over at that point—off to the cemetery of unread books.

I’m glad I gave The Dawning of Power another chance. I found the story to be a solid, intense read. It was thick, in depth, and sometimes over my head.

This book is long—a hefty read. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but be ready and be patient. It was a bit intimidating at first, but I found myself flying through the pages.

My only complaint: The Dawning of Power is mostly a character driven book. Overall, I felt Mr. Rathbone’s characters were vivid and alive. Likeable. However, the vast amount of characterization took away from the story at times. I felt it was lacking in drama—tension—the chase. The white knuckle, page turning feeling wasn’t always present. However, this didn’t distract me, and it was not always the case; I simply felt Mr. Rathbone could have put a bit more emphasis on the suspense. Regardless, it didn’t take away from my enjoyment.

Overall, The Dawning of Power is a classic tale, filled with adventure and lovable characters. The writing is passionate, and I suspect we’ll see much greatness from Mr. Rathbone in the future as his career progresses.

A place where myth and legend collide—

Where the unthinkable is the mundane?

There is a thin veil between reality and make believe. When you take a moment, and push the veil aside, perhaps you will see this place, a place not of the imagination. Everything you see here is real.

Nothing is what it seems—noises are not what you think.

Nothing is off limits—no place is safe.

You might find yourself lost in the past, or trapped in the future—amidst vampires and werewolves—or in a most peculiar lost and found department.

This is where unimaginable creatures roam wild—where humanity is absent, and dreams turn into nightmares. If you are looking for refuge, this is not the place to stop.

Welcome to The Endlands.

I usually don’t watch movies in the theaters, and it was the same with Paranormal Activity. I like the comfort of my home—the ability to push pause. So, I turned off the lights and began watching.

Dogs sleeping on the floor.

Wife sleeping upstairs.

Drink in hand.

Volume up.

As I said, I was in a grumpy mood. Within the first five minutes, I began criticizing the movie.

Bad acting.

Bad dialogue.

Not that scary.

But, wait a minute . . .

Um, what’s she doing?

Why is she just standing there looking at him?

That’s not right . . .

What!!! A demon can pull you from bed??

I think it was at this point I called the dogs onto the couch. They did so hesitantly, as I don’t normally allow that.

Paranormal Activity was really good, especially for a low budget movie. I fully support someone going-it-alone, and the makers did a fantastic job. The story was a bit of a re-hash, but as you know, I don’t mind such things. The plot wasn’t completely original, but that didn’t matter. My only real criticism was the dialogue—it was loose, and I think the actors could have practiced more. I think they were given leeway, to try to sound natural . . . it worked, for the most part.

I will say one thing about the characters ( a couple in the early stages of living together): The guy sure was loyal to his girlfriend. I’m not sure how many men would have stuck around. And it wasn’t like they could just leave the house to escape the demon, because it followed her.

Talk about baggage!

All in all, I have no complaints. Paranormal Activity was scary. It made me jump a few times. It made me cringe even more. It had a good ending and overall I recommend this movie.

I’ll add this: Demon stories always creep me out. The problem with demons is simple: you can’t shoot them. You can shot serial killers or axe-murders (although in the movies, this is not always the case). Still, you have a reasonable chance against something living. Hell, it is possible to even shoot an alien if so inclined, but not a demon, my friend.

They are an entirely different story.

I enjoyed the reruns, though. The Sci-Fi channel always did a good job of running marathons, and I’d record dozens, and spend countless hours in utter bliss. I’ve long since abandoned TV (yup, haven’t watched in nearly a year), but I do miss one thing:

The Twilight Zone.

Rod Serling did something that few will ever achieve.

He brought us the kooky and bizarre—the unexplained.

He baffled our imaginations and crafted our dreams.

Rod Serling was a man with something all great story-tellers must have: IMAGINATION.

A man on an airplane wing—mid-flight.

A crashed UFO—and an alien enters a diner in human form.

Or how about the train that only had one stop?

Or the astronauts who found a planet of little people, and decided they were gods?

Many have attempted to re-create The Twilight Zone. It hardly worked. The newer remake had little success, and I found it a bit boring.

Outer limits was good, but not The Twilight Zone.

There were others, too, but none came close to Serling’s impact on the world.

One reason I believe Hollywood has had a tough time re-making the bizarre, is because nowadays, most shows are an hour long. The Twilight Zone was generally thirty minutes, and perhaps a must for the genre of ‘strange’.

Perhaps because it’s not personal anymore. Rod Serling brought a certain commitment to the show. You could tell loved it. In this day and age, they would probably have long since replaced Serling as ‘host’ with a ditzy, clueless celebrity of the month.

Perhaps it’s because others focus on special effects and not the story.

Perhaps imagination is not what it once was. Media and TV and Iphones . . . maybe the idea of The Twilight Zone will fade as generations pass.

Either way, I can say this about The Twilight Zone:

. . . some bring the tonic

. . . others bring the vodka

. . . but Rod Serling brings the twist.

I have this crazy relationship with Legends in Time. I have been married to the series for what seems like forever. It is truly a love/hate relationship, and I have my ups and downs in this marriage. Sometimes it makes me feel lost. I get overwhelmed. I get bored. Still, I push forward, not always knowing why. Something inside keeps me writing. 

 I don’t remember specifically professing to ‘richer or poorer’, but I supposedly did. I must have been drunk at my own wedding, because that part is a blur. Although I’ve done alright for myself, I know this one can go either way in the long run.

I also don’t remember swearing to ‘in sickness and in health’, but once again, I must have. This one isn’t fair, because even in sickness, Legends in Time demands my attention. How can this be fair?

And health? How is it possible to stay healthy while pecking away at the keyboard for more hours than I can count?

I can tell you, it’s tough.

Sometimes my marriage makes me confused. My head gets foggy and I can’t think straight. Sometimes my marriage demands things I can’t give.

Sounds dismal, doesn’t it?

Lucky for me, I share Legends in Time with two other creators. Jordan Benoit and Nathan Palmer are both very talented, and this series is as much his theirs as it is mine. Sharing the duties isn’t all that bad, despite it sounding like some weird swingers thing.

I’ll just make sure my neighbors never find out.

Back to my marriage.

My real passion has never been in the genre of fantasy. I never really thought I’d be writing it. My enthusiasm is growing, I must say. Whereas other genres have limits, fantasy does not. It is truly free. You can let your mind go wild when writing fantasy. Sometimes, yes, writers get carried away and wonder why they only sell a dozen copies. Yet then again, sometimes they can get carried away and have the greatest of successes.

Will I ever be a Tolkien? No.

First off, I’m not that smart.

Secondly, I don’t know if I could bring myself to devote an entire life (my only life, I might add) on just one story. I’m the kind of person that wants to share my love for literature, and experience different genres.

Because variety IS the spice of life.

This leads to my infidelity. I must confess again, I do cheat from time to time.

My marriage knows this, though—it’s not something I hide. I get bored with Legends in Time. It’s a series that seems to have no end, and sometimes I wonder how long my marriage will last.

Unfortunately, this boredom causes me to cheat. I’m fortunate because my marriage is understanding, but I’m torn, and I  act on my impulses. My desire to write other things gets in the way. I guess I’m just not a one story kind of guy.

I know what you’re saying. I sound like a polygamist. Not quite, though. I am more of a fiction polygamorist, in that I’ve yet to marry another. However, I cheat because I simply love too many genres of fiction to limit myself to just one.

Does that make me a fiction whore?

I prefer junkie.

Horror has always been my first love. Although, as I get older, I write less and less of it. Still, horror excites me.

I remember when they re-released a re-mastered version of the Exorcist. Nothing better than the pair of tough guys who sat in front of my best friend and I in the theater. Seeing them jump and scream out as Regan flicked her god-awful tongue still brings a smile to my face.

Perhaps it was because it was horrific.

Perhaps it’s because my best friend and I were doing the same thing.

I will get my taste of horror this year. My project, The Endlands, should satisfy that need. It will not be permanent, but all I need is a temporary fix. I’ll probably get the desire again to write horror next year and I’ll probably cheat once more.

I’m still young and I guess I have some wild oats to sow.

Lately I have also been cheating with another project, The Blue Bus. It has held my attention more than it should, and I must release it before it leads me to a divorce.

My marriage hasn’t been too happy about either, as well as my co-authors in the LIT series. I can’t help it. It’s a primal instinct sort of thing for me to cheat.

I’m impulsive.

I desire passion.

Life can be bland, and something new is important.

I suppose these things are just part of life. Reminds me of those lyrics:

‘You take the good

You take the bad

You take them both

And there you have

The facts of life. The facts of life.’

Why do I cheat?

Is it because I’m not always satisfied?

Ding ding ding. We have a winner.

Let’s just say I struggle with the monotony of monogamy. My mind is often elsewhere, and it’s hard to stay focused.

I’d like to blame it on being a writer thing, but I know it goes deeper than that. I have many stories in my head— too many to count.

And after I finish other novels, I’ll cheat on them too. And, I’ll go back to my marriage eventually, because LIT grounds me, and keeps me focused. My marriage may not understand my unfaithful ways, because at the end of the day, I always come home to it. I’m in for the long haul, and only until death will we part.

I can handle bad acting. A low budget does not bring in top actors. That’s fine. All in all, the actors did a decent job.

My beef with Hollywood is often one thing: Production and editing. However, this story had major flaws in the plotline.

If movie makers would take the time to polish an idea, I think we’d have better movies. Chill is a perfect example of this. Let me give you an example:

A stranger moves to town. Seems like a decent guy, right? He goes to a convenient store, looking for a job. After, he walks outside and a good-looking woman comes up to him. Here’s basically how the dialogue goes:

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“I noticed you are new in town.”

“Yes. I just moved here.”

“Would you like to come to my apartment for dinner?”

Really?

Build the characters and let their relationships develop . . . please! Normal people don’t do these things and it makes for an unrealistic setting. These are things that Norman people just don’t do.

Also, the bad, evil doctor wasn’t all that scary. I suppose, at the end, it becomes a little more convincing, but not much.

Oh, and of course there is the pimp, who repeatedly calls his girls, “My bitches”. Over and over and over again. Ok, we get the point.

Cheesy and not entertaining. I’d suggest something different.

Simon says: This was a bad movie.

Five college students head into the woods. Okay, been done a million times, but I’ll bite. Not for long, though, because it goes downhill soon after.

The ‘bad-guy’ is none other than Marty McFly’s father in Back to the Future. Remember him? The guy that said, “Hey Biff, take your damn hands off her.”

Is he really that scary? No. Especially when the ‘good-guy’ is a big, tough football player.

The strange ‘country’ accents didn’t quite fit in this movie. I suppose they were attempting mockery, but it just sounded dumb.  I’ve been in deep country . . . the Smokey Mountains, etc, and yes, there is a specific accent. Did this movie depict it accurately? Not really.

The plotline was paper thin and the ‘bad-guy’ just wasn’t scary. The worst part, though, is the unreasonable actions of the characters. Like I stated, was this a horror movie or a comedy?

Come on . . . can a guy really smoke that much pot? His friends are dead, he’s on the run, and he’s smoking a joint??? Then, he nearly gets killed and lights up again—it’s not even laughable.

If the makers of Simon Says were attempting horror, they failed. If they were attempting comedy, they failed miserably.

I have to ask this question: Is there a cult following for stupid horror movies?

There must be. I’m not sure how anyone could watch this movie and think it’s good. Maybe the producers and actors, although I really hope not. I hope they watched their movie and said, “Damn, we shouldn’t be making movies anymore.”

Simon Says was a waste of my time and money. Normally I would have turned it off after twenty minutes, but I’m way overdue for reviews.

I did not enjoy Simon Says—not at all. I wasn’t scared and I couldn’t find it in myself to even laugh. Boring!!!

Oh well, back to the video store.

Be careful judging a movie by its cover . . . you may get a bad one.

Little did I know these past twenty years have been a preparation—practice for what I am doing now.

And I look back at my old writings—(you know, the ones that seemed magical and surely best sellers)—and I realize they were not any good. Unoriginal. Ambiguous at best. In my younger years, I was haphazard, inconsistent. I had an undefined technique. I was also easily influenced by my favorite authors, often attempting to mimic their style. That never works.

 Only over the past few years have I realized what it is like to truly be a writer. The dedication it takes. Rewrites. Edits. The mind-maddening business of storytelling. It is not all inspiration and a good idea. No, it takes a lot more than that.

I get asked a lot: Why do I write? Good question.

What makes me put 1,000 words a day on paper?

What makes me spend countless hours reworking a scene? Fretting over characters?

What makes me care at all?

Is it money? Well, I definitely appreciate the money I make doing this. It allows me to pay my bills and write for a living. Money is the added bonus. If an author’s sole purpose is money, that author will not make a dime.

 Meeting my fans and public appearances is fulfilling. Without a doubt, it is a wonderful thing. I love meeting someone who has taken the time and effort to read my work. Attending book signings is motivating, especially when I am bogged down. It takes me from my isolated little world of writing, and reminds me of the joy I share with my fans—BOOKS.

But that is not why I write either. I do not write for my fans, nor do I write for friends . . . family . . . hell, even my own wife. If I tried, my writing would not be any good. It would be forced and void of a good story. Writing just does not work that way.

So why do I write?

The standard answer is: ‘Because I love it.’

However, that is not necessarily true with me. Sometimes I do love it. Sometimes I hate it.

Writing is one of my favorite things in life, but I would not consider if FUN. Anyone who thinks so has never written a successful novel. Writing is hard work. It is a mind-blowing adventure that will leave you poor and without friends if you are not careful. It will alienate you from your loved ones.

And will they understand?

NO. Unless, of course, they are writers themselves.

Being a writer will isolate you from the world around you.

In its purest form, writing is more of a sickness. I will admit that it is for me, at least. An addiction. My addiction.

It is my alcohol or drugs. My sex-o-holic desires. My schizophrenia. It is my misery and my bliss. I write because I have to write. If I did not, I would surely succumb to decay of the mind. I feed my addiction because my addiction fulfils me, and I am not ready to quit.

It is a strange ride . . . being obsessed with writing stories.

We hoped to have it released it earlier, and book four to follow soon after.

It is my fault, mostly. Quite honestly, I have been moving a little slow lately. Too much on my plate, I suppose. It has been a touchy subject with my publisher, but I understand. I have been lazy.

However, I cannot seem to help myself with this one. I feel the need to let a story breathe, especially between rewrites. With Plight, though, I have done much more than that. Jordan and I have changed directions with the story, and a last minute clean up was in order. It is a bad habit as a writer, I will admit, but something we both felt was necessary. So, we are forced to release it later than expected.

Could this be why my publisher seems stressed?

Like I said, it is my fault. I want this book to be better than the first two. What writer doesn’t? We have had such great response to The Contrived Senator and Exiles; I felt it was necessary to tie up some loose ends with Plight. It was not ready.

The story must flow.

It must be clean.

Characters needed flushing out and the plot needed thickened.

Unfortunately, the time is near. If it were completely up to me, I would hang onto it a bit longer. I am sure I could convince Jordan, too.

There is a problem with this, though. A good fan—and we have the best—will hang in there when an author slips. It will happen, too. It is inevitable, especially if a writer maintains a long career. The problem is that a fan will not hang in there if a writer is being lazy. A not-so-good novel from time to time is one thing, but slow releases will piss off a fan. They want productivity, and want the author to do his or her job. They demand to be entertained—

And rightfully so.

I have read RR Martin’s fans get frustrated with his slow pace. They want him to finish what he has begun. I believe the man is getting older, and writing is not his top priority anymore. Makes sense, but I do not want to be like that. Although, it is not to say that he has not earned a little slack. Stephen King is one of them, and I believe RR Martin has earned the right to take a break now and then. The man has done much for fantasy. One of the best.

But I do not want to find myself with that predicament. Not yet, at least. Perhaps it is because I am in my thirties. Perhaps I am in a rush. But I do believe a writer has the duty to finish what he or she has started, especially a series.

Hectic times at the computer.

Deadlines upon more deadlines.

Last minute edits and late night caffeine.

The good news is that Plight will be available soon. As always, I am four parts excited and one part nervous. Our fans expect our best. They expect our story to grow to new limits. They expect us to not be lazy or fail at our jobs.

 I think they will like this one. I really do.

The plot was great. Mankind is on the verge of destruction—I believe the movie referred to nukes going off. With limited time, scientists set up an underground city, Ember, and insert a chosen group of people to live while the rest of the planet dies off. They set up the ultimate community—a fully functioning city—along with instructions in a time capsule, set to open at a later date.

Fast forward hundreds of years in the future. The City of Ember is now on the verge of destruction itself. The instructions have long been lost, and forgotten, and to make matters worse, the city is falling apart.

The fully functioning City of Ember vastly relies on their generator. It gives them power—lights the empty darkness—and signifies their ability to live.

Problem is, the generator is failing.

I like how this movie focuses on this: The blind faith of a child. Teenagers, mostly, a pair of inhabitants sets out to save the city from its own flaws: themselves.

In such a situation, you’d like there wouldn’t but such corruption, but there is.

In such a situation, you’d think people would act creative—inventive.

They don’t.

Mindless and numb to the realities of the darkness, the people of Ember do nothing.

Sounds familiar, I suppose.

Mankind’s greatest threat is its lack of caring.

Typical.

City of Ember is colorful, and a tale for most ages. It is comical, yet serious. It does not lack action and adventure in any way. It is creative.

I believe this is based off a novel. I have not read it, but it is most definitely on my ‘to-buy’ list.

I went to the video store ten minutes before closing time. I quickly found the movie my wife wanted. Then, I haphazardly picked up Cold Prey.

It looked good. The cover and synopsis sold me.

And once again, ladies and gentlemen . . . another FOREIGN film.

I’m sorry, but I’m not the kind of guy who watches foreign films. Call me lazy, but they’re not for me. Watching movies gives me down time. I don’t want to work at it, and I definitely don’t want to read subtitles.

I swear, the video store should put big stickers on their movies. Upon further inspection, in itty-bitty letters, it says it’s a Norwegian film. Great!!!

I watched it anyways. I was bored, and my mind was on overload. So, I gave Cold Prey a chance.

Decent movie, I must say. Very typical slasher movie—I think they advertised it as the ‘next’ Halloween. Not quite, but it was still good.

I had my issues with it, but no need to go into those just now. So, if you enjoy Norwegian horror movies, check out Cold Prey.

No bartering. No debating.

The movie choice was all mine—

Perfect!

So, after careful browsing—(or so I believed)—I rented Chrysalis for a simple reason: Science Fiction. (Very mild sci-fi, though, which was disappointing).

You see, my go-to genre is science fiction,  if I’m not in the mood for horror. I love it. Spaceships and other worlds and you can count me in. Beam me up, Scotty, and all those things for me.

The sun set and the evening presented itself as I retired to my recliner.

DVD in.

Two remotes in hand.

Cold drink.

Cold Pizza.

Push play and sit back and relax. Right?

I swear, it’s NOT MY FAULT. The video store mixes the foreign movies in with all the rest. No stickers. No big text that reads: This is a FOREIGN FILM. Nothing.

I’ll take some of the responsibility, though. I should have been more observant. Attention to details and all that crap.

Still, I mostly blame the video store.

Chrysalis is a French movie, with English subtitles.

No thank you! Not for me.

Now, I’m not bashing foreign films, or people who like them. I’m simply not a fan. With a few exceptions, I can’t stand subtitles. When I watch a movie, I don’t want to have to work at it.

Still, since I wanted to review it, I watched it.

Overall, it wasn’t all that bad of a movie. The setting, and tone of the movie was good. Dark and mysterious.

The problem with this movie, and many other foreign ones, was that it takes too long for the plot to pick up.

Personally, I don’t recall many of the details of the movie. It didn’t have a lasting impression, but then again, I did end up watching it. Overall, I enjoyed my night and the movie as well.