Look at These Cars.....They are Concepts but still....

BMW GINA-Imagine owning this. No seems on the doors, the fabric moves to open the headlights and hood. Amazing.

Dodge Viper GT S/R-What is this, like a V10 All-American testosterone oozing muscle car. Beast.

GT by Citroen-This was made for real after it was made in a video game. Impractical? Yes. Awesome? Yes.

Mako Shark Corvette Concept-I don't care, I still want to by this.

and finally.....

Rinspeed Splash-It's a car that goes on water. And land. O.O

I'm Pretty Embarrassed about this but oh well....

Dear Mr. King,

I would like to tell you about how your book Misery was pretty significant in the life a little child (who just happened to be me). I have read this book several times--the most recent being last summer--and have enjoyed each and every subsequent read-through of its 320 pages (at least in my edition). I loved everything, the pacing, the tone, generally just the writing. Now, I know that this is getting a bit to complimentary for the official LAL guidelines, but trust me, there’s a point to this blatant disregard of all rhyme and reason. Even though I loved the book, even though many others loved the book, I’ve just got to say: it scared the (to take one of Annie’s phrases from the book) ‘eff out of me. I guess it was sort of a bad idea to read it in the fourth grade, but hey, what’s done is done. No book (not even any of yours) has scared me like this one did. There was just something that I, as a nine-year-old child (yep, it’s crazy that I read this at that age, isn’t it) found utterly terrifying. Maybe it was the cop and the lawnmower scene (a face like hash browns *ewe*) or the foot cutting, but it just got to me. It was a good fear, though, an infectious fear, and it made me want to keep reading. I wanted more. More books, more stories, more, more, more. This is one of the ways my life has been affected by this book. Before the fourth grade (and before this book) I wasn’t all that into reading. I mean, I’d read a Potter book here and there, Eragon, what have you, but nothing ever made me want to, need to read more. After this book, I did. So thank you Stephen (can I call you Stephen?....probably not) for inspiring me to want to read. I practically ate up literature. Mind you, none of it was as utterly terrifying to me as this, but it gave me a jump start, a hunger. So, thanks, thanks for opening my mind to the wonderful world of literature.

I’m not going to proclaim anything as outlandish like “I’ve been abducted by a crazy serial killer nurse” or anything; however, there are certain parallels that I can make in connection to my own life. Paul is, in essence, trying to separate himself from his past (i.e. the Misery series of books), which is similar to the way that I’m trying to separate myself from my past (or the expectations of others). For most of my life I’ve been expected to play sports (it must be because of my tremendous physical build J). But that’s not who I am. This may seem kind of lame, but one of the biggest problems of the last six years of my life was playing sports each and every year, every day, every week. I don’t want to do that anymore, just as Paul doesn’t wish to write Misery. He wants to break free, and so do I.

So, Stephen, ahem, Mr. King, thanks for taking the time to read this, if it ever gets to you (which it probably won’t) for taking the time to write, and use your gift to inspire fourth graders (who probably shouldn’t be inspired by your particular books) around the world.

Sincerely,

                                      Chuck Testa

Can I do this? I sure as cuss hope so.

Let me start off by saying, “The Color of Magic” isn’t the typical book that I’d read. I’m not that in to fantasy (Harry Potter probably being the closest I’ve come), so take this review with a grain of salt. There are plenty of other books that I’d likely read before this, and honestly, I only chose it because I found it in my garage, and it looked like a short (210 pages, by mine, and the publisher’s count), easy, fun read. It wasn’t, for me at least. I labored through this book for the better part of two months. Sure, I was reading “To Kill a Mockingbird” (in my opinion, a much more engaging read, but it’s a classic, so maybe that’s not fair) at the same time, but it was still sort of a chore to read this “short, funny, easily-digestible fantasy parody. Anybody who has read a lot of fantasy will probably love this book. I, however, didn’t.

The book is set in a fantastical world (Discworld) which is, oddly enough, disc-shaped. The world itself has rests on the back of four giant elephants, who in turn rest on the back of a HUGE turtle, the great A’Tuin (who is, in theory, traveling to some cosmic mating grounds to mate, and spawn a whole new generation of A’Tuins. This is known as the “Big Bang Theory”) who is swimming endlessly through the cosmos. This obnoxious premise is a parody of the even crazier premises that, I guess, pop up in many fantasy titles. This book addresses many problems, one of which being, Discworld is not a very safe place, especially for the tourist Twoflower (a floundering, rich, over-trusting tourist) and his failed wizard tour guide Rincewind (the worst-as in bad at magic-wizard probably ever written; he is good at running away, and staying alive.)

The story begins when the out-of-plate tourist Twoflower arrives in the hard livin’ streets of the Twin Cities of Ankh-Morpork. Twoflower is from the Golden Kingdom, a far off land that seems surprisingly similar to our on world, in this medieval, magical Discworld (it has accountants, and in-sewer-ants). He has with him a pocket translator, and a magical, sentient luggage containing a large amount of gold, which causes him much grief as the lowlifes of Ankh-Morpork pester him for it. He meets up with the inept wizard Rincewind, who is forced by a city official to accompany Twoflower, and keep him safe so as not to tarnish relations with the Golden Kingdom’s Emperor. This odd successfully burns down the Twin Cities. After they flee into the woods, they encounter a mountain-troll (controlled by the petty Gods of Discworld, who are all explained in a very complicated chapter that I didn’t really understand), and are separated. They both, through teleportation and ineptitude, arrive in a temple, erected in tribute to Bel’Shammaroth, the Soul-Eater. In the temple, the meet a new traveling companion, Hrun the Barbarian, and his magical sword, Kring. They defeat the Soul-Eater with a camera, fight some dragons, go to space, everything. If this sounds pretty complicated for a relatively short book, it was, at least in my eyes.

I don’t know if fantasy is always this complicated and convoluted, or if Pratchett was going for comedic-ly long expositional chapters. Maybe avid fantasy readers will like this book more for it, but I found it kind of boring. Something that I did like was the few “broad comedy” jokes thrown in there (“Any suggestions?” “Obviously, you attack,” said Kring scornfully. “Why didn’t I think of that?” said Rincewind. “Could it be because they all have crossbows?” “You’re a defeatist.” “Defeatist? That’s because I’m going to be defeated.”), Kind of roundabout, I know, but I certainly got those. I’m sure that people who read a lot of fantasy will LOL (ha) at all the little fantasy inside jokes peppered in throughout the book, all the ones that I just couldn’t find.

I think that the main theme of this book was that sometimes those who people wouldn’t normally consider as heroic are actually the best heroes. It’s actually a kind of simple theme, for such a complicated plot. I guess all themes are, aren’t they. I would recommend this book to fantasy lovers, by the way. They’d probably get it more than me. I certainly hope so, because this spawned over thirty sequels. I sure hope that it wasn’t all fluff. I haven’t actually seen much parody books, and this one doesn’t really impress me. I’d like to read some stronger parody material.