2017 IS SET TO SEE STEPHEN KING’S THE GUNSLINGER COME TO FILM. Additionally, with a gorgeous, gun-toting Idris Elba at the front and center.
Set to release in August, The Gunslinger is a source of great excitement and anxiety. Like any other book-to-movie transition, fans are left to wonder how much is going to be cut out and how much is the studio going to eff with something we love?
But in King’s own words, “I feel more wrapped up in this one because the books took so long to write and the fan base is so dedicated. I’m 100 percent behind it — which doesn’t mean it necessarily will work, just that it’s a good way to try and to get into these stories.”
King even approves of the casting. “It was great to see Idris Elba as Roland. He has terrific focus and tremendous energy as Roland. Mathew McConaughey is very scary and very intense as Walter. I love that right away you set up the tension between the two of them.”
Another mark in favor of this movie is, according to Entertainment Weekly, “co-writer Nikolaj Arcel, a Danish filmmaker who says he learned English as a teen just so he could read King’s books in their native language.”
The novel sees Roland, the gunslinger, and Jake, the boy crossing the desert in search of the Man in Black, Walter. Filled with dark subplots and set in a world possibly just adjacent to ours, The Gunslinger movie will have at its fingertips a uniquely open plot to fiddle with.
The first book, for which the movie is named, leaves many questions unanswered and is essentially 300 pages of set up for the rest of the epic series. That being said, the movie will have a lot of room to fill in details and separate non-book plots. In fact, it seems to be bringing in elements from later books like The Wolves of Calla and is possibly missing characters like Susannah and Eddie, but whether the movie adaptations will continue may alter their M.I.A status.
But whether or not one looks on with trepidation or excitement, from the looks of the trailer, the world building is incredibly detailed and all the hardcore gunslinging dreams of fans are front and center.
I have spent most of my years wondering what Hogwarts house I would belong in. And when I say that, I mean I’ve spent way too many hours obsessively tapping my fingers in introspection.
For about half of those many years I have been told time and time again that I am unquestionably, undoubtably a Ravenclaw. So when Pottermore launched, part of me was just itching to go and check, but something stopped me. I did not go to Pottermore, in fact I waited approximately seven years before I visited.
I now know that I was terrified, as dorky and riddikulus as it sounds, yes I was terrified. What if I ended up in a house I didn’t feel like I was part of? Part of me had always held onto this idea that I, like the trio, was part of Gryffindor, but I knew that I was probably Ravenclaw.
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I have spent years avoiding my inevitable sorting, but I finally caved. I’m not sure how I feel now that I have. I took every other quiz I could before this one, including an Ilvermorny house quiz, which I was surprised to find I am not a Horned Serpent, I am a Wampus, known to be the body of a wizard and the warrior. So maybe that should’ve been my first warning flag.
When I finally took the sorting quiz, I came out Slytherin. I understand to a degree, but I wanted a second opinion. So I did something taboo, I cheated the system, which, thinking about it now, may make me more Slytherin than I thought. But still, I made another account. It never hurts to get a second opinion.
This time Ilvermorny was not a Horned Serpent, instead a Thunderbird, known for spirit and adventure. Both for Ilvermorny and Hogwarts I tried to answer very similarly to the first sorting and as true to myself as I felt I could be.
For Hogwarts, this time I came out Gryffindor. I should be ecstatic, the secret hope has been partially confirmed. But something still doesn’t sit right.
I feel the most closely linked to Ravenclaw and the Horned Serpent, the houses of the wise, studious, and intellectuals. How could my results say traits, that yes, I do have and pride myself on, outweigh what I believe to actually be my strongest characteristics?
I have spent so many years of my life wondering about this… to the point where I am just straight up confused now.
Understandably, the houses together form one complete concept – everybody has a bit of every house. The point of the sorting is to identify the strongest of those traits, so why do I feel that the traits identified by a J.K. Rowling-approved computer algorithm as my strongest are wrong?
Photo Credit: The Odyssey Online
Maybe because that’s just it. Despite my unerring geekiness and absolute worshipping of J.K. Rowling, I am not going to trust a computer to tell me what house I’m supposed to be for Ilvermorny or Hogwarts. The decision is for the Sorting Hat and the Carvings alone to make, and it is widely recognized that the Sorting Hat takes your belief into consideration and it is a personal belief that the carvings of Ilvermorny do too.
I, to give Pottermore some credit, as I stated before have an unerring belief in almost anything J.K. Rowling approves. That being said, I believe that this was partially correct both times and partially wrong both times.
The readers are what bring the story to life, and believe me, I am a reader and Harry Potter is definitely very much real life to me. So shouldn’t what I believe to be true mean something?
I feel that I have the ambition, resourcefulness, and many other characteristics of a Slytherin, but I also feel that I have the boldness, daring, and countless other traits of a Gryffindor, and equal to both of the previous I feel that I have the curiosity, drive for wisdom, and basically everything else that Ravenclaw treasures. My feelings on the Ilvermorny houses mirror my feelings on the Hogwarts houses – I value adventure, strength, and wisdom.
Simply put, I will continue to stand by my allegiance to all: Ravenclaw, Slytherin, Gryffindor, Wampus, Thunderbird, and Horned Serpent.
But those of the steadfast Pottermore belief will have to forgive me for my terrible sin: I am going to take Pottermore as suggestion.
I will continue to believe that I am a Ravenclaw/Horned Serpent who has very strong tendencies toward the many other houses, like the well-rounded person, with an inclination toward intellect, I believe myself to be.
Based on the horribly juxtaposed 13 book children’s series, Lemony Snicket’s A series of Unfortunate Events is back on the screen.
After an adaptation starring the ever bold and physical comedian Jim Carey, there was something missing – a certain element of discomfort that made your skin crawl. Long-time and new fans alike are excited to see the whimsical and dark series come to life in ways the movie didn’t.
Thanks to Netflix, 13 years after the movie, fans left wanting more are treated yet again to the world of the Baudelaire Orphans.
Photo Credit: Flickering Myth
Netflix is a growing empire, what with its ever-increasing show and movie collection complete with the little red Netflix stamp in the corner. But none of its other series’ are nearly as daring as Lemony Snicket’s A Series of Unfortunate Events. Clocking in above The Crown as Netflix’s most expensive show to date, and aimed to appeal to every major viewing group, A Series of Unfortunate Events had to jump through all the hoops and stick the landing.
And stick the landing it has, masterfully translating a rich and vivid book series to the big screen.
With Daniel Handler (or better known to A Series of Unfortunate Events fans as none other than the Lemony Snicket) writing for the first two episodes detailing the first book, the show was off to a strong start.
The filming, dialogue and acting perfectly reflect the original material in ways that are often lost in book-to-screen translations. The actual visual and audio result is a style that is resonant with Wes Anderson’s later works like The Grand Budapest Hotel, Moonrise Kingdom and even Fantastic Mr. Fox, with vivid colors, sharp dialogue, specific score, and subtle etchings of humor in small, seemingly insignificant places that make all the difference.
Sticking pretty closely to the original books, the Netflix series has only upward to look. Having only covered four books of 13, and with the introduction of a secret organization only hinted at in the books, the show will undoubtedly grow in complexity and content as the series goes on.
There is no feeling in the world like finishing a good book.
It’s like a slap in the face, or getting a bucket of ice water poured on your head. It’s a jolt that causes me to realize that I haven’t been in my body for the past – a glance at the clock – seven hours.
Nothing mattered. I was running through the streets of Ketterdam, a thief fighting the odds alongside Kaz Brekker, I was battling he who must not be named with my fellow students and professors, I was Aelin Galathynius and no one could stop me.
But once my eyes greedily devour what’s left on that page, I’m back to being me.
Just a girl with cold feet, a stiff posture and the most marvelous one pound object in front of me.
I’ll spend the rest of the day in a blind daze. Wondering why I am no longer in Ketterdam, or at Hogwarts.
And it hurts. A physical ache in my chest. Why isn’t this me? Why aren’t I living this kind of life?
And its an awful realization that I’m not.
For the rest of the day I’m shaky, seconds away from crying for no good reason. I’m hyperaware of whatever I’m doing in the world around me, but lost, aimlessly drifting in a world that seems like it’s not quite real.
I’m lost, just wanting to be able to read the book for the first time again. To get lost all over again.
I wander through the house, wanting that life, wanting to just disappear into the books that I love, to live these incredible lives.
Despite the struggle, the scars, the damage, the truly horrendous pasts that give dimension to the people who I am closer to than anyone else in the world, I want to be these people.
And **** the writers who create these worlds and these people. I run from my emotions and yet I can’t run from reading, and emotions are all I get from reading. I can’t bring myself to run from these writers. I’m like a junkie who hates what they do to themselves but loves the ride too much.
All I want to do is read and never reach the end. But equally so, the end is the best part. I am constantly tempted to rip out the last page and toss it to hell but I can’t. I always walk through the fire for it.
Photo Credit: BBC
It’s not like finishing a movie or a show. That is me watching someone else doing something. When I finish a book, I have been put through the same ringer the characters have. I have lived the same life.
Part of my soul is fulfilled and yet a larger part of it is missing. Finishing a book is losing a part of myself. A part of myself that I have committed hours to, I have paced for, I have lived for.
When I finish a book, I finish a lifetime. I say goodbye to friends who never knew me but I knew them. I say goodbye to a family that I loved in that time more than I have ever loved. I say goodbye to a reincarnation of myself. I say goodbye to something that doesn’t even know I exist and yet has wrecked me.
There is no feeling in the world like finishing a good book.
It is a feeling akin to finding the one thing in all of life that you search for, and losing the one thing in all the universe that you cannot stand to lose.
I have a bad habit of reading a lot of good books very quickly. I’ll pick one up and think hmm seems interesting enough and then all of a sudden my Saturday is gone. I realize that somehow I am now reading in the dark.
The last word has been read, the cover closed and I want the rest of the story right then and there instantly in my hands. Forget food or anything else. After a cursory search of my shelves I realize I don’t have the second, third, fourth, tenth, or umpteenth book. My heart breaks.
In point two seconds my phone is in hand as I research the next book.
I religiously read the description hoping to glean just a little bit of information before my greedy fingers move to order it.
I move the mouse down till I find the order button.
My heart more than breaks it is razed, obliterated, ground into nothingness.
Preorder.
Receive order on November 2.
I slide out of my seat into a puddle on the floor. The middle of the school year. I can’t help but think, I’ll bet a million bucks I’ll have a calc test to study for, and goodness knows how much other homework.
So I give up, I order it and put it on my shelf to look at me and shake it’s head in disappointment. Every once in a while I’ll look up at it like a scolded kid as I try to figure out the slope of a tangent line before it costs me my grade the next day.
Friday October 23rd my parents and I made the relatively strenuous drive at 8:30 at night to Redlands University to see my brother at his college Homecoming.
To be honest, I couldn’t care less about football. In fact, I chatted the whole time and not about the plays being made on the field.
But, on Saturday, the day of the largely anticipated game (admittedly, not by me), I went to see something truly unforgettable.
A few hours before the game, Redlands hosted a guest speaker and that speaker was Elizabeth Gilbert, the author of Eat, Pray, Love.
I read the book a few years ago and loved it, so I was looking forward to her speech. The main idea of Gilbert’s speech was her desire to live a creative life, her journey to attaining that life, and to encourage others into also living this life.
First of all, she was very clear: to live a creative life, you must follow curiosity rather than fear, and the two are closely intertwined.
This deeply resonated with me, as I am the type of person who thinks of every bad side to a situation and lets those (usually improbable) reasons sway me from not doing something.
Gilbert was inspiring, intuitive, and an amazing speaker. The speech was definitely worth having to watch a football game afterward, though I did leave at halftime.
Like many students I get overwhelmed with my work very often. The process progresses over time.It starts during second period when I get my first homework assignment. In my mind I am scheduling out my study hall. By third period my study hall is full. In my mind I am praying that I don’t get anymore homework. Fourth period hits. Well now I am going to be up until eleven. Then I get a brief break for Journalism where I do a blog and some of my work in class. English comes and more homework is added to the pile.
During study hall I sit down and look at the giant list of of homework in front of me. My mind starts to race. The worst case scenario runs through my head first, what if I don’t finish any of it. The list starts to feel bigger and my time is ticking away.
The Walls get smaller and my heart beats faster. It gets harder to breathe. I get a faint ringing in my ears and a massive headache. Everything seems impossible and I just want to go to sleep and leave it to the morning.
I work up all of my courage and begin. I tear through the work slowly chipping away at the giant list.
I blast through graphs and formulas as math slowly works itself out.
Physics disappears as the laws of projectile motion get thrown around.
AP US History get thrown into the past when I answer questions about the revolution.
I expose the end to my articles in Journalism.
In English I power through Miller and Poe as the clock hits 11:59 pm.
Homework is finished and I crawl into bed.
As I fade into sleep I remember.
I have a vocabulary test tomorrow.
I say toss it, I’ll study during my free period, and I fall asleep.
This past week we talked about National Banned Books Week. In my opinion, banning books is wrong. Why wrong you might ask? Wrong because by banning a book we are hiding and keeping information from the people. Wrong, because in most cases the content of a book is merely a reflection of a real life issue or occurrence.
A book touching on the topics of homosexuality or racial differences is not a valid reason to ban a book. A book about the old south that has the “N” word in it is not a fair reason to ban a book, especially because the “N” word is being used to provide the reader a feel for how things were in the south way back when.
Books shouldn’t be banned because there is a bigger possibility that the people reading a book about a war will be shocked and learn that war isn’t the answer, than for those people to think that they should go out an mass murder a crowd of people due to their influence from that book.
If people are this afraid of what a books content will do to the minds of those who read them, then I wish you luck with real life problems because you are clearly unaware of what sort of things life brings to the table.
If a book can change every bodies mind of what a government is doing and lead the people to revolt and demand a change, then the government was definitely doing something wrong.
Books are powerful tools for understanding and for expression, but most of all books are a way to describe a situation or a period of time in the highest about of detail possible. even if it means there is foul language, racial differences or sexual implication portrayed in the novel.
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