For the last year or so I’ve been steadily reading my way through Terry Pratchett’s Discworld series. If you’re not familiar with the books, you are probably unaware of what a monumental task this is. I’m currently in the home stretch - I’m on book #29 and moving my way through the last several books of the series.

After which, I will probably start going through and reading them from the start again, although probably not with the same speed as this first go-round. I don’t know how I manage to not stumble upon his work until I was 35. The satire of this series has to be experienced to believe. He is one of the few authors where days after reading one of his books I find myself bursting out laughing when I finally make the connection to some subtle joke embedded in his text.

Which brings me to the subject of the post. For some time, I’ve been telling myself that I needed to write up a bit on the Discworld series, just because it’s been so damn enjoyable. Also, I reasoned, it would stop my friends from killing me for constantly recommending that they read the books. However, today I was reading through Boing-Boing in my RSS reader and I came across an article about Rat Kings.

Prior to yesterday, the phrase “Rat King” would have just passed me by. However, as fate would have it last night I finished reading Pratchett’s The Amazing Maurice and His Educated Rodents (Discworld #28, for those of you keeping score at home) and this book has a Rat King woven into the story line (yeah, it’s a slight spoiler but I’m good with it).

So, for you enjoyment, I offer the somewhat disturbing picture up at the top (from Wikimedia) and the link to the Boing-Boing article above, which reads in part:

Seen here is an example of a purported rat king, a giant rat beast created when many rats get their tails tangled together. Legend has it that the rats then grow together into a single creepy entity. This mummified “rat king” was discovered in 1828 in Buchheim, Germany and is currently on display at the museum Mauritianum in Altenburg, Germany.

Personally, I think it’s quite a bit more likely that someone tied the tails together, rather than believing that they spontaneously knotted up somehow. Of course, I’m a buzzkill skeptic so you’ll get that.

Beth, Alex, and I saw The Seeker a few weeks ago. I had looked forward to seeing this movie - with a certain amount of dread based on what Hollywood has done to other books I like - since I started seeing trailers for it earlier in the year. As it turns out, my fear was well placed. This movie was bad. It was bad in a Michael Bay way - you know, the theory that when you are at a loss for how to move the plot forward you should go with the flashy special effects. In fact, if you have a really cool special effect warp the script any way you need to so that you can get that effect in the movie. Plot development, dialog, acting - bah. Just throw in a cool effect sequence.

The movie is based - very, very, very loosely - on the book The Dark is Rising by Susan Cooper. This book - which is part of a series of five - was one of my favorite books when I was a child. The author combines English and Celtic myth and legend to create an amazing world, a world in which forces of the Light and the Dark strive for dominance. Most importantly to the younger version of myself, Ms. Cooper created a world in which children play a key role in fighting off the Dark. I read the series at least a half dozen times while I was in school, and in anticipation of the release of the movie I reread the entire series.

To say I was disappointed by the movie is a drastic understatement. This was one of the few movies that I entertained thoughts of walking out prior to the end. Of course, there was this almost sick fascination of staying to the end to see exactly where they were going with their version of the story.

Now I do understand that it’s not possible sometimes to translate a book to the big screen. I understand that sometimes minor plot lines and characters have to be written out, and other elements adjusted to make a better movie. However, the screenplay for this movie goes far beyond that. The distortion of the story was so breathtaking that it seemed as if were written by someone who had either never read the book or at the very least had a strong dislike for the book.

It’s not just the minutiae that has been changed in this “adaptation”; the changes include the main plot points. The whole purpose, history, and meaning of the signs - one of the major drivers of the story - has been changed around. The key figure of Merriman Lyon is converted, along with the other Old Ones, from dignified and powerful to mundane and at times comically irresponsible. A twin brother is created for Will Stanton, the family is transformed from English to American, and a love interest is tossed in. To top it all off the concept of “Dark Matter” is pulled whole from the buttocks of the screenwriter and deposited in the script along with some very weak ties into the original story.

Told you I didn’t like it.

Beth’s opinion was that the movie wasn’t bad, provided that you hadn’t read the books before. Alex - who at the time had not read the books - was somewhat lukewarm on the movie. We’ve since started reading the series together. We’re into the last third of the Dark is Rising, and it puts a smile on my face to see him hanging on every word as the book moves towards the climax. The subtle building of tension, the struggle by Will to be both an adolescent boy and an “Old One”, the author’s descriptions - these have pushed the cheap theatrics of the movie from his mind.

Susan Cooper - who’s official website is here at www.TheLostLand.com - talked with NPR about the movie in this interview, which took place prior to release. She makes the point that novels and screenplays are very different. In her words, “You do have to do violence to a book to make it into a screenplay;€” the two mediums are so different,” she then continues on to address the movie version of her tale directly, “But the alteration is so enormous in this case. It is just different.”

Different indeed. The same article goes on to talk about how Susan Cooper sent a letter requesting certain changes to the script. Based on the end product, I’m guessing they were ignored. That’s a shame, because both Ms. Cooper and this book deserved better.

Folks, skip the movie and read the books - amazon.com carries the series in a nice boxed set. Susan Cooper is a wonderful author - her story deserves to be told in her words, not in the bastardized version in this train wreck of a film.

“I’m going to call him ‘Buckley’, just like you guys do”, Alex states as we start walking into the Barnes and Nobles in Montrose. Beth explains to him that he needs to call him ‘Mr. Buckley’, and show him some respect since he is the grown-up. Alex grouses a bit, something that he has mastered in his nine short years on this planet, but grudgingly agrees.

We go into the store and up to the Children’s Section, but no Buckley. Beth points across the upper level to an older gentleman with greying hair speaking over in the history section. Crap, with the graying hair, goatee, and sideburns he looks very…well, bookish. The whole ensemble is finished off with a blue sports coat. I feel like I’m going to have to start calling him ‘Mr. Buckley’ now.

Hurrying over, we manage to grab some seats to listen to Buckley talk about being an author, and about his wildly popular Sister’s Grimm Series of books. Alex and I just finished reading through book one the night before (I’d like to take credit for the timing, but it was a complete fluke) and he was incredibly excited about the whole experience. During both the talk and the question and answer session following, Mike speaks about how all his experiences - time on the David Letterman show, working on shows such as The Fairly Odd Parents and Sponge Bob Squarepants (Alex practically exploded at this one), down to working at the nearby Olive Garden - have helped him write.

During the book signing, Alex and Beth go up with a stack of five books (Sisters Grimm - No one can buy just one!) while I spend some time talking to the rest of the Olive Garden refugees that have come to see Mike. There is a post-signing party over in Copley, but we have to get Alex home as he has an early morning baseball game.

I keep glancing over to Alex while I’m talking - he’s definitely excited about this whole visit. And Buckley is so….well, I guess I have to say “smooth”. He’s thoughtful, he’s funny, and people seem to definitely like talking with him and he seems to enjoy the interaction in return. Alex gets all his books signed, and gets a picture (which I’ve put at the start of this post) as well. After the signing winds down - which entails Mike signing his name about 100 more times on stock books to be sold with the little autographed sticker on them, Alex gets a personal review of book three, The Problem Child, from the author.

Ironically enough, I don’t get to say a word to Buckley - I was going to talk to him when Alex was asking him questions, but by the time Alex finished he was off with someone else. No worries, I can always email him later, and I’m sure he’ll be back to Ohio around the time book four hits the shelves.

It’s nice to see a friend achieve success. I have a google alert defined for Buckley (I have a number of more narcissistic alerts setup for various permutations of my name as well), and the bulk of the web pages and posts concerning him are uniformly upbeat and enthusiastic in their praise. My family are fans as well - we’ve sent his books to a friend in San Diego (who ironically enough has a pair of daughters that are eerily similar to the Sisters Grimm in the book) and we’ve suggested the series to parents at football, baseball, and basketball here in Manchester.

Despite the success (and no matter how you slice it, being on the New York Times Bestseller list is a pretty good indication of that success), Mike remains just the way I remember him. Case in point - I told Mike that I was impressed that he had written these books at a wedding last summer, to which he shook his head and replied that I “didn’t need to be impressed”. I don’t need to be, but I am.