Like most things, I’m not quite sure when I started loving bat-shit crazy things. I used to pride myself on enjoying things that could be considered “high class”. At one point I even made it a priority to inform people that American Beauty was my favorite movie. Yet, now that I’m getting to an age when it’d make sense for that to hold my top spot for cinema, I have to say that I’d probably choose to watch Kingsman: The Secret Service over American Beauty 9 out of 10 times. Continue reading
I don’t often write reviews, mostly because I don’t feel confident in my ability. Yet sometimes, something comes along and I feel compelled to overcome my fears and share my opinion. This happened to be the case when it came to The Ocean At The End Of The Lane by Neil Gaiman.
Neil Gaiman is a name I’ve heard a lot or over the years and for good reason. He’s prolific in every medium he creates in, from graphic novels to traditional prose. I had just never read anything by him. But a newfound desire to read everything I had missed due to years of Youtube gorging set me on the path towards this book. Once there though this novel wrapped itself around not only who I am but who I once was before I understood 401ks. So much so, that it’s difficult to examine elements of this story without doing the same to myself. Continue reading