100 WORD BOOK REVIEWS / Dear Ted / Kim Vodicka

Kim Vodicka’s (The Elvis Machine) latest poetry collection, Dear Ted, is a tsunami of words—simultaneously destroying with feminine rage and empowerment the male shitstorm women deal with every day while also honoring women survivors and those who deserve to be remembered. Mixing popular culture and open discussions of sexuality, Dear Ted eviscerates Ted Bundy and other serial killer/stalker/dater-esque men. Reading her poems becomes an act of complicity as each word or image slices male entitlement to ribbons. Even in the rare moments where the metaphorical knife briefly dulls, Vodicka’s poetic onslaught remains a continuous bloodletting experience.

100 WORD BOOK REVIEWS / Under Your Skin / Matthew Standiford

If Under Your Skin is any indication of things, Matthew Standiford is a horror writer you’re going to want to keep an eye on. In his story of a young man whose bleak day-to-day life takes a surreal turn into the brutality that’s possible when you don’t have anything else to turn to. Without making his characters seem overly sympathetic, Standiford takes main character Brandon’s search for girls whose skin can be of use to his ailing, damaged girlfriend Jennifer, and tells a deeply effecting story. It’s a particularly twisted mediation on redemption and accountability, making Under Your Skin is a must-read for genre fans.

100 WORD BOOK REVIEWS / Dumb Dumb Dumb: My Mother’s Book Reviews / Mary Jo Pehl

Dumb Dumb Dumb: My Mother’s Book Reviews is MST3K alumni and celebrated humorist/comedian Mary Jo Pehl at her very best. The book essentially functions as a memoir, looking back at Pehl’s relationship to her extraordinary mother. A fascinating woman and voracious, informed reader of more books than most human minds can conceive, Pehl creates a portrait of her mother as someone who you sincerely wish you could meet for yourself. Pehl’s writing here is as detailed as it is hilarious. She has always had the incredible talent for making us laugh amidst a vivid depiction of the everyday. That has never been more apparent than it is here.

100 WORD FILM REVIEWS / The Black Phone

Colorado, 1978. Young Finney is abducted by the “Galesburg Grabber,” a Gacy-esque masked villain. In captivity, the Grabber’s victims call out to Finney (literally) on a disconnected telephone, posthumously sharing their failed survival strategies with him. Make no mistake: this story isn’t about The Grabber. It’s about the importance of male survivors’ voices. Truly, the horror at the heart of The Black Phone is the statistic it circles without disclosing: 1 in 6 men are victims of childhood sexual assault. Beyond the basement, into the audience, some are still awaiting rescue: for them, the phone’s still ringing.

Carly sat alone at the table. The room buzzed with students. She watched Nicole, surrounded by the older girls, walk straight out of the cafeteria. Her friend did not look back as they headed toward the cemetery. Carly wanted to scream, to run to the first staff member she could find and turn Nicole in. Let her sit alone in the office, she thought.

He was a knight in shining armor rescuing her from an old maid existence. She never mentioned the fact her money allowed him to retire immediately after the wedding and spend each afternoon at the Cricket Club playing Dominoes and Bridge before coming home snookered just in time to pour their five o’clock cocktails after she had arrived home from work.

Humanity fractured and diverged across colonized space. Those who remained on Earth to weather a turbulent climate were wholly unique and different from those who settled upon the moon many generations ago. The ebb of evolution adapted to these new climates. Languages changed, and words that seemed so important on Earth disappeared on lunar soil, where they proved to be worthless.

I gasp for air; clutch the rancid dirt above,
Ignoring hands outstretched to alleviate my futile struggle with their love.
This ensures the sands of time will go with unrest,
I have shot down every single dove.
For the look on their faces disgusts me, hands gleaming with sweat.

The first one in the group to sign with an agent is the one who had never even heard of Jane Austen or even read The Great Gatsby, and a few in the group are a little jealous of her. When Hannah comes to the meetings with her writing to critique, the group begs off commenting, saying that the stuff is being published and doesn't need critiquing. Sensing the envy from the group, Hannah tries to keep secret the six-figure movie deal she gets for her book. Of course the aspiring authors find out about it, and turmoil besets the group.