As I continue with the tradition of watching scary movies in October to prepare for Halloween, here’s a little treat:
Last week I watched Horror Hotel (aka. City of the Dead) on TV. It’s an old black and white from 1960 and it did not fail to creep.
It stars a young Christopher Lee and a bunch of other people I’ve never heard of.
The movie starts out 300 years before the present time in Massachusetts with Elizabeth Selwyn being burned at the stake for witchcraft. As she’s burning she curses the town and its people.
Jump to present day to Christopher Lee as a professor teaching tales of witchcraft from his hometown -where said witch Elizabeth was burned, and one of his students, Nan, having the beauty idea of going to the cursed town to work on her thesis. Brainiac. Seriously.
When Nan enters the town she is greeted by a stranger – who has a habit of disappearing. Literally. Right from the passenger seat of her car.
The town is clearly ominous as it is coated with a thick, dark fog all the time. Right then and then is when I’d be turning my ass around and going back to wherever it is I came from. But not Nan. She decides to check into the Horror Hotel – which is kept shop by none other than the reincarnate of Elizabeth Selwyn – now Mrs. Newless.
Gimme a break – I would burn this beyotch again and again!
The townspeople stare and give her the evil eye on more than one occasion. Things go missing. Things appear. Dead birds are planted. Stabbed through the heart. And dumbass Nan sticks around.
I’m going to give anymore of the story away but for a movie made in 1960 about witches and witchcraft – it was pretty good. Definitely lame at times. Definitely some bad and overacting at times, but it gave a few shudders.
Up next, House of Wax.
If there’s one thing I love in this crazy, busy, mixed up world, it’s a good book.
I love everything about them. I love the way they feel, the texture, the smell – especially old, beat up novels with their eerie history. I
It is my dream in life to have a huge parlor-like room with walls lined from floor to ceiling with books upon books upon books.
My friend Cheri has somewhat accomplished this dream. I am forever envious.
For as long as I can remember I have always wanted or needed a book on the go. Something to keep me occupied and keep my mind at work. Something to comfort. Something to take me away from this place and experience an adventure inside my head.
I think my love affair with the written word started from birth! I assume my mother read to me then. And I can remember being very young and my mom always reading to us; me and my brother. She would read us bedtime stories – shorts from Dr. Seuss to novels such as The Wizard of Oz, promising a new chapter the next night – and she would read to us while waiting for medical appointments. And she would take us, countless times, to second-hand bookstores where would slink around quietly, and load up on books.
I remember getting hooked on Archie comics when I was 5 or 6. Fumbling through each story (asking my mother over and over how to pronounce “Veronica”). I couldn’t get enough of those short little stories. Zip, zip, zip. And another book was finished. Eventually I moved on to bigger books, although Cinderella was always my favorite, I needed more….I needed chapters! And so the affair grew. And it has continued to grow.
Years ago when I lived in the City I worked very late hours. I would come home and read to (attempt to) unwind, instead, I would get wrapped up in a story that would take me into the early hours of the morning. Lost Girls by Andrew Pyper was a book that I had wanted and was gifted to me by my spectacular sister-in-law. That book kept my mind so busy late at night. It was scary as hell and kept me up with fear, yet I continued to read it. I was enthralled.
When I injured my back several years ago and was down and out and barely able to walk, books kept me sane and busy. And when I first started working out, books are what kept me going. I’d jump on the elliptical with a novel and boom! Just like that an hour (or sometimes two!) would be gone.
When I read, when I’m really involved in a story, something happens to me. I’m transported to another place. Page by page and chapter by chapter I find myself getting deeper into the world I’m reading about. As if I’m there. As if I’m the character. There are days when I want to do nothing but read because I’m so obsessed with the story. That’s what happens when I read Grisham. And it’s what’s happening now with the current book I’m reading (The Witch of Belladonna Bay by Suzanne Palmieri). This book has enchanted me. Like you wouldn’t believe. I cannot get enough of it.
*sigh* My new best friend…my summer escape.
That was the same for me the first time I read Jaws and when I read Grisham’s The Rainmaker. And last year, when I finally finished studying for my Nutrition exam, with Andrew Pyper’s The Guardians. Those books enchanted me. I read them all in just a matter of a few days. Like those books, The Witch of Belladonna Bay is constantly on my mind. It’s like it’s seeped into my soul. All I want to do is sit in the sun or snuggle in my bed and get lost in this other world. (Thankfully my BFF is on vacation this week so I’m able to read in the sun during my lunch break. I’m such a dork!)
Maybe this quaint little story about witches is itself enchanted. Who knows? But it’s got me hooked.
I get so lost in these worlds it’s like I’m watching a movie – or living in it. I’m a very vivid reader and the words become so picturesque and move along easily and colorfully. It’s better than TV. Television never calls to me like a good book does.
I have already zipped through 5 books since the start of this summer (I think that’s a record for me), and I can’t wait to start a new one. The only thing, however, is that when I get really involved with a book – like I am right now – I’m always sad at the end…when it’s over. When the adventure concludes. There have been many books that have made me cry and many books that I’ve cried at the finality of the ending. I find no shame in that. I’m a sensitive being and when one becomes so involved in a story – whether it be real, written, or televised – there is no shame in feeling the sorrow in the loss of what seems to have become a good friend, or in the experience itself.
I’m looking forward to finishing TWOBB in the next day or so, but I have a feeling that I have become so wrapped up in, not only the words themselves, but in the emotion this story carries, that I will, at some point before its end, bawl like a baby.
And once that moment is over, I will move on to the next adventure and become enchanted all over again.
Last night I wanted to continue my Halloween movie viewing – but it was a busy night (story of my life!) and by the time I was able to relax with a movie it was a little later in the evening so I didn’t want anything too scary – because I’m a big baby and will have to sleep with the light on – so I watched Practical Magic.
I’ve loved this movie since the first time I watched it. It’s a sweet little treat and Sandra Bullock makes me cry every time.
And the movie has everything. It’s a chick flick for sure with witches
and a cutesy love story – AND Aidan Quinn
…..Aidan Quinn ….who is clearly working his way toward a mullet in this movie
And it has some
scary creepy moments which include a full-on witch coven
And it also has this gorgeous piece of architecture
And, to be a little sneaky, the soundtrack has a few tunes by Stevie Nicks – the White Witch of Rock and Roll (how clever of them)
“It’s just a little hocus pocus!”
For me, watching Hocus Pocus at Halloween is like watching Elf and One Magic Christmas at Christmas time – it’s a must.
This morning Abby and I settled in to our butt grooves on the couch and watched Hocus Pocus. I did a post on this movie two years ago (read itHERE) so I’m not going to bore you with the same details. But go watch Hocus Pocus because it’s funny
Amuk. Amuk amuk amuk amuk.
It’s a teensy bit creepy
Poor Billy Butcherson…..Lost Soul
It has some funky witches
(AND Bette Midler sings!)
The movie is a classic!