Since tomorrow is Halloween, I thought this would be a good time to tell you about the first and last time I ever read Dean Koontz.
I’d been in L.A. for only a few months and about to move into a new apartment with two other people. The lease didn’t begin until first of the month, which was also when phone and electricity would be turned on, but the landlord said we could move in early. My roommies said they’d wait but I thought I’d be a badass and moved in three days early.
I’ve never had trouble being alone for long periods of time as long as I have a book. So, I went to a used bookstore in North Hollywood to look for a cheap paperback I could kill three days with. A copy of Koontz’s Whispers was sitting in the bargain bin. I’d never read him but a friend was always recommending his books (I should’ve considered that my friend loved scary movies with guys named Freddy and Jason in them) and the dollar-price was right. I took it home with me and attacked it that afternoon. What else was I gonna do? Nobody to call and no TV to watch.
I sat on the floor of my new bedroom—I had zero furniture, not even a bed—under a window and read. For hours. And hours. I remember being vaguely aware of shadows passing by the window above me as the day got long and the sun started descending. But I kept reading. Because it was getting really good and scary. I didn’t even stop for lunch.
Suddenly, it was dark. I only noticed it because I could no longer see the words. I went to turn on the light and belatedly remembered there was no electricity. I also realized the temperature in the room had dropped precipitously. With the sun on my back from the window, it had been sufficiently warm in the apartment during the day. But now it was evening in February and my clothes felt too thin.
And I was sitting in the dark, alone, with a creepy-ass book in my lap. I had no cell phone to call anyone (this was early ’90s), nowhere to go. I don’t remember specific details about the book but the plot had something to do with a stalker who shows up at a woman’s house to kill her. A woman who’s alone, exactly like I was that night.
I wanted to go downstairs to get something to eat but looked at the dark chasm that was the winding staircase and thought, Forget it. Did I mention I didn’t own a flashlight? I was sure someone would grab me on the landing and no one would hear me scream.
After cowering in the dark upstairs for another half hour or so, I decided to try and sleep since there wasn’t much else to do. Plus, I needed relief from the escalating Whispers-induced paranoia in my head. I curled up on the floor with my blanket, certain my roommates would show up in a few days and find me as a corpse, cause of death being an actual intruder or heart attack from massive fear.
Don’t remember how I managed to quiet my brain enough to sleep but next thing I knew, I opened my eyes to a bright shiny morning. I’d never been so happy to see sunlight and all my limbs still attached. Went downstairs and ate a sandwich like a lion in the wild on a downed gazelle. Newly energized, I went back upstairs and finished Whispers because I don’t like leaving things unfinished. But after that, I never read Koontz again.
What’s the scariest book you’ve ever read? Happy Halloween!
My favorite numbers were “Smooth Criminal” and “Thriller,” which incorporated Jackson into filmed segments leading into live performances. For “Criminal,” Jackson inserted himself into that signature scene from Gilda with Rita Hayworth singing “Put the Blame on Mame” and stripping off her gloves (Jackson catches one). For “Thriller,” he was reinventing the video in 3D. After more than 25 years of watching countless others perform that infamous monster dance, it’s quite, well, thrilling to behold the mastermind himself doing it again and see that he’s still got it.
Last month, my friend Tomas made me aware of this album over at his blog, 
White Collar, USA’s latest original series, stars Matthew Bomer as Neal Caffrey, a convict who excels in the kind of crimes for which the show is named. In order to stay out of jail, he makes a deal with the FBI agent who finally nabs him to let him help solve cases, using his expert criminal mind. Bomer is handsome with his piercing blue eyes and does a capable job, but he lacks the extra oomph that makes an actor a breakout star. Tim DeKay is solid as Agent Stokes, the straight-up guy who’s frustrated by and a little envious of Caffrey’s lifestyle. The show doesn’t offer anything new but I might tune in again if I’m home on a Friday night and there’s nothing better to watch. Nerd verdict: Lightweight criminal.
This noirish thriller, set in the Hamptons, unfolds over three days as auto mechanic Cal tries to hide his pregnant former boss from her abusive husband while searching for his friend, Lebell, who has gone missing after leaving a trail of blood in his apartment. Cal wants nothing but an orderly life to prove he didn’t inherit criminal tendencies from his father and brother, but as he gets more involved in his friends’ crises, he wonders how far he’s willing to go to keep them out of trouble and even save their lives.
Each person will receive one hardcover copy of 9 Dragons and one paperback of The Brass Verdict. Click on “contact” in the top right corner and send me your snail mail info. Please do this even if you’ve won something from me in the past because I don’t keep your addresses on file (I just sell them to spammers—kidding!). 
