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I've lived in Long Beach for over thirty years, and I love my hometown. It's not easy for a town to gain international recognition when it's living in the shadow of a major metropolitan city, but Long Beach has done just that. Long Beach is scrappy.

I read D.J. Waldie's Holy Land a few years ago, a wonderful memoir about growing up in nearby Lakewood. My house is very close to Lakewood, and many of Waldie's memories echoed my own. I remember wishing that someone would write something similar about the history of Long Beach.

Long Beach Chronicles is not that book. Written by local journalist Tim Grobaty, this book was not a memoir. It was not a history. It was just... a sterile retelling of an assortment of more-or-less significant events from Long Beach history. I wanted someone to give Long Beach the David McCullough treatment, or at least the D.J. Waldie treatment. What I got was a box of puzzle pieces with no picture on the front of the box -- a lot of distinct facts without much help to tie them together.

Grobaty is an award-winning journalist and columnist, but I found his writing style in the book to be quite bland. The events in the book were all out of order. There was no depth to it; various notable residents were mentioned, but I didn't really get a sense of who they were or how they shaped not only the buildings and streets of Long Beach, but also its society and culture.

I learned a decent amount about various historical events in the city's history, including how certain streets were named, which parts were incorporated later, and the fact that a lot of its early residents were Iowans seeking sunnier skies. I learned a fair bit about the who, what, when, and where of Long Beach, and that's to the author's credit.

I recently had the outrageously good luck of being hired by a local startup ten minutes from my house. One of the things I like best about the company is that they, too, love Long Beach and are proud to represent her on the tech scene. They even had me go out and shoot a video homage to the city that makes us what we are.

I love Long Beach. It's a vibrant city, full of color and life. I'll be leaving it soon for the first time since college, and I don't know when I'll be back. But I'm glad that there's a small history of a tiny corner of Long Beach, right there on the border of Lakewood, that I carry with me in my heart. I guess I don't need Grobaty's book after all. I'll be my own Waldie.
 
 
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A good coming-of-age novel is interesting in that, even if the main character's experience is vastly different from the reader's, the reader still feels the nostalgia. Twenty-Sided Die is a good coming-of-age novel. It's a series of vignettes following the lives of five young men who play Dungeons & Dragons together. 

I was a nerd of a different ilk in my youth; I tried D&D once, but it didn't really take. The boys I knew who played D&D (and they were all boys, actually) were as varied as Prisco's characters: some were the stereotypically socially awkward geeks, some were socially adept and intelligent (if physically lacking in various ways), and there were even a rare few who were athletic and popular and hid their D&D fetishes from their teammates and girlfriends.

Prisco paints his characters with stark, but loving brushstrokes. He's almost harsh in his descriptions of some of the boys -- fat, acne-ridden, arrogant, awkward. But his affection for his characters shines through in his narration of their daily lives, their inner monologues, their vivid fantasy adventures, and their secrets. Like Steinbeck, he finds the beauty in the mundane, a reminder that even those whom society disdains have secret pains and joys and worth.

If Prisco's Boogeymen was an homage, then Twenty-Sided Die is a love song -- a bittersweet ode to what was, what is, and what could have been.

 
 
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There’s fanfic, and then there’s homage.

Fanfic is usually written to satisfy the writer; filled with the fan’s desires of what he’d like to see come to pass. Since the focus is the writer’s satisfaction, it often happens that no one but the writer is satisfied after reading.

Then there’s homage, which is written to honor the original work. Any true fan can appreciate a good homage, and it may even succeed in converting the uninitiated.

Boogeymen is the best homage to horror movies I’ve ever read. Now, in the interest of full disclosure, this was my first foray into writing of this genre, so my word may not be worth much to hardcore fans. But I can say this: I laughed a lot and was thoroughly satisfied when I was finally done ripping through it.

The premise of Prisco’s novelette is that two boys inadvertently summon all the scariest creatures in horror history to participate in a battle royale to establish who is the scariest monster of them all. Much blood is shed in a myriad of creative ways. Not only is there plenty of gore for hardcore horror fans, but there’s also an abundance of snappy dialogue, salty insults, and hilarious exposition, which anyone who enjoys witty writing can appreciate.

Be forewarned that there is lots of gore and strong language (as the MPAA puts it). But Boogeymen is a fantastically satisfying read for fans of the genre and fans of a well-crafted tale alike.