Monday, February 9, 2009

Part Two of a Sonnet-Form Review of Brian Keene's Castaways, With Perhaps An Excursis On Keene's Place In Literature

I am a jerk, I'm willing to concede,
At least when it comes to the fate of folk
In novels. It fulfils in me a need
To laugh at gory deaths as at a joke.
Which is how Brian Keene's fam'ly stays fed.
I chortle like a ghoul through all his tales
As characters galore just wind up dead,
And each attempt at rescue just plain fails;
Not one of them will e'er escape his doom.
His stories are intended more to scare
Than to make my rude laughter fill the room.
I'm pretty sure, though, that he doesn't care.
He writes, we buy, both sides end with a win.
And, satisfied, we do it all again.

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