Gag Order -- A blog entry that's NOT a book review but that is an exercise in free speech

Well, it has happened. I work for a small business in an office with six employees, two who are predominantly out in the field all day, so four people plus the on again off again appearance of the business owner, and today—today the three of us, out of four, were given a talk. The three of us out of four were asked to refrain from political discourse in the office because it makes the one (plus potentially the two who are not in the office for the majority of the day…) uncomfortable.

We are an office of predominantly women. Our boss is a fiscally conservative woman of the Silent Generation, and when she brought us together to have the talk, after the one who is also conservative in his political views left the office on a break, she visibly cringed because she had to bring up the topic. She prefaced it with her own admission to having screamed in frustration at the previous evening’s news—her, a conservative. But she “suggested” that we refrain from political conversation in order to keep anyone from being uncomfortable. Anyone. As in the one person not in attendance who voted for "the guy," the toddler president pushing the envelope like he's reached his terrible twos.

This is where we’re at, folks, being told to "be nice," because we, the "liberal snowflakes" of the past decade might offend the MAGA held-hostage-right for merely mentioning the shitstorm raining down upon us. And I get it to some extent—we have to work together, and HR is HR because no one in the workplace should have to endure unnecessary abuse. But mentioning the Superbowl, and asking about who got booed, or suggesting that the halftime show was good because of its artistically conveyed message, is not abuse. 

I've worked at this small business office for well over a decade, and you didn’t see me running to HR when the political right of the office dynamic was up in arms over "infringement" of their gun rights. Or when someone received a personal package there because they didn’t want it to be stolen off their porch. That package was an AR-15. We tolerated the discourse over the 2nd Amendment and the border. We even engaged in it with civility. So forgive me if I take offense to being told that I can't say that calling it the Gulf of America is ridiculous. And stupid. Or that Musk taking a financial hit of billions of dollars is the start of a hopeful day. My boss—who agrees with those two sentiments in particular, is suggesting that I zip it, because it makes that one employee uncomfortable.

And why is he uncomfortable? Are we objectifying him for his sexy physique, or demeaning him by telling him to shut up and get us our coffee? No. Are we belittling him or yelling at him or telling him that he’s not smart enough to understand? No. It is my opinion that he's uncomfortable because he can’t join the conversation. He can’t defend having voted for the wrong side, and we—who are simply talking about the previous night's outrageous news and shaking our heads in casual conversation, aren’t allowed to do that because it doesn’t provide a safe space for the guilt ridden minority. Or maybe he’s not as guilt ridden as we wish he would be, but he knows we are angry and he knows there is nothing he can do to muzzle us outside of work.

We will cater to the gag order. We will maintain our office silence; you know the kind, where the argument ends with her saying "fine," then following up with nothing. Nothing at all. Not one word. It's an uncomfortable silence, and it’s suffocating. That silence won’t bring the office together. Nor will it bring the nation together. Which is why I’m writing this because—surprise—I can’t stay silent.

And you shouldn’t either. Be safe out there, people. Also, be honored if someone calls you woke.

The Third Installment of the Stephen Graham Jones Lake Witch Trilogy is HERE! (Almost…)

If you're looking for that next horror book preorder, and if reading My Heart is a Chainsaw and Don’t Fear the Reaper left a ragged hole in your heart because you needed more, well… The third and final (as of now) installment is heading to bookstores this March, and the chance to preorder is now.

Cover Photo courtesy of Saga Press

I was ever so fortunate to acquire an advanced copy, and I’m popping up this review now, so that you beautiful horror minded people can keep it on your radar. Because you are beautiful. The horror community, in general, is one of the best, right? Anyway, book review, below:

I was super excited to be granted an ARC copy of this book, the third in the Lake Witch trilogy written by Stephen Graham Jones. The first two books, My Heart is a Chainsaw, and Don’t Fear the Reaper were big, splattery tales of slashers gone wild, with metadoses of pop horror culture Easter eggs to lure in the hardcore horror movie fans. Or even the softcore ones. Angel is no different in this regard. It is often times an exploded, pulpy mess of confusion, but that’s what the truest forms of the horror genre are, I suppose. Lots of twisted trails of our blood soaked nightmares. I'm trying too hard to evoke images of guts and gore, I know. But that’s what the trilogy is; Jade Daniels, the Native American final girl who can never be that. A final girl. 

This story brings Jade back to Proofrock, the idyllic little lakeside community in Idaho that has become one of  America's top destinations for murder. Jade returns after being incarcerated for her crimes from the first two books, and after enduring some state mandated therapy. But she’s out and she’s back, and she’s snagged a teacher position at her old high school, thanks to online college courses and friends with money in high places. As Jade pops pills to help her stay sane, it happens again. Students go missing, wind up dead, and ultimately have a connection with Jade and her obsession with horror.

I feel like Jones felt the pressure of having to top the frenetic pacing of books one and two here, but as is the case with many a part three story ( especially in film), the attempt doesn’t always hit the mark. This does not mean that I wasn’t entertained. Far from it… But some of the deaths/mayhem felt gratuitous. And by gratuitous, I mean deaths that just happened without provocation. I’m talking Tucker and Dale level accidents. Some of the deaths were certainly unexpected but also random, as in Final Destination random, but they didn’t feel intrinsic here.

That having been said, I feel like the number of relevant shocks and surprises outweighed the baseless ones. Favorite characters are not safe here, and the first one to go (for me) had me shouting “you bastard," at Jones—in a good way. We see everything from Jade's POV, which can be challenging because she’s not a linear thinker, but it’s true to character so be prepared. Also, reading the first two books is essential.

I think two of my favorite things about how this story was laid out, were the asides written by an investigative firm about Jade's mental state and progress after jail (yes, Mr. Jones, sir. I’m calling it jail too), and the one story thread that had me comparing Jade to Ripley in Aliens. If there is one person to focus on saving, that’s the one.

And finally, thanks to Mr. Jones and Saga Press for providing the ARC. It was one wild ride!

Tap the link here to purchase from Amazon. OR tap here to purchase from Bookshop.org…

Book Review: The Institute -- Stephen King

First of all, it doesn't really matter what I have to say about Stephen King's novel, The Institute. King is an established author with an established following. Some consider him to be the voice of Modern American horror. This book was destined for the bestseller lists before it was a twinkle in Mr. King's eye.

And I'm a fan. I grew up on Stephen King. His work influenced my own work in that I found a passion to write about, well...horrible things. But here I am, a huge fan of King's early works, that have gone on to become iconic horror movies, and I'm only giving The Institute a 3--okay, 3.5 but not quite a 4.

I like it. It was a fine story. Some reviewers have--and will want to make comparisons to the TV series Stranger Things, but let's face it. Stranger Things is a homage to King's work, so you can't really go about saying, "Hey, he's just trying to ride the coat tails of Stranger Things with this one."

What I am going to do is categorize this story as Mainstream Horror. There are truly better horror stories out there right now with a much harder edge to them. I've reviewed a few. And as mainstream horror that will appeal to the masses, this book is fine. It's about a kid with special powers who gets abducted by a secret government organization, to be referred to as The Institute, then is forced to undergo horrible experimentations in order to be used for global political reasons. There are other kids forced to undergo the same treatment, but our MC Luke has a goal--to find a way out.

I admire King's underlying message here--that kids are our future and we need to trust their capacity to change the world for the better on their own, not use and abuse them because of our own fears. Something like that. It's a great theme.

But too much of the story felt too familiar to me, with King relying on tropes and characterizations that are so common in his older works that here they feel like a recycling of old material. I enjoyed reading it. If you're a sporadic reader of King's work, you might enjoy it too. But I wasn't riveted. Like I mentioned, this horror story with scifi elements is on the mild side of the horror salsa spectrum.

You can find a copy of Stephen King's The Institute pretty much wherever books are sold.