I stumbled on a libertarian site which is running a series on Everything Wrong with Every Single President of the United States.
“This will be a sharp departure from your standard presidential histories, rankings, surveys, and biographies. Here, we have no interest in criticizing the man while maintaining ‘respect for the office.’ The office itself is the problem, after all, and practically anyone you could throw into it would make a proper mess of the whole affair… It’s high time to take on the myths, shred them, and finish the job by tackling each and every other president along with the ‘greats.’ No American president has managed to wield the power of their office and do so within the limits of both the Constitution and the rights, liberties, and interests of the people. Even those few presidents who have entered office with the best of records, the best of intentions, and the best of methods have been abject failures in their own ways… Every president was awful. Every president should be remembered as an infamous and immoral rogue who unjustly claimed to rule many millions by arguments no better than magic. Every president deserves either our scorn, our disgust, or at the very least, our criticism; some deserve trials for war crimes and others have escaped all scrutiny by hiding in relative obscurity. No longer.”
To date, these authors have skewered the following presidents:
While it’s impossible to take seriously the idea that all chief executives were equally abysmal, these analyses have more merit than those you will find in most books and online, which err on the side of uncritical praise.
The reader may compare these with my own list of scumbags, though I’ve done only three so far:
I also did the tenth president, whom I judge to have been excellent — the very best in fact — unlike the authors above who trash him:
It would be nice to say that the fury over Dany has abated, but if anything, things are getting worse. People apparently need grief counseling because they’re so traumatized by the “betrayal” of Dany’s character and the “unacceptable” Game of Thrones finale. Seriously.
There has been no shortage of excellent articles underscoring everyone’s stupidity: Amanda Marcotte’s
Don’t Be Shocked by Daenerys catalogs the mountains of evidence showing Dany’s innate cruelty; John Elledge’s Stop Whining About It shows Dany a political game-player as much as Cersei; Sean Collins’s The Tragedy of Daenerys Targaryen compares Dany to Frodo Baggins, who betrayed everything he and his friends fought and suffered for; and James Crossley’s The Khaleesi of the Liberals compares Dany to war-hawk Hillary Clinton, whose supporters during the 2016 election were in blatant denial of her bad traits — in the same way that Jon and Tyrion persisted in defending their indefensible queen.
What these articles don’t address is how fans were misled to esteem Dany so highly. They lay out the facts, but leave us wondering why the facts are still resisted. The closest we get to a reason is in Marcotte’s article:
“Fans lived in denial for the same reason that the almost exclusively male characters that surround Daenerys — Tyrion, Jorah, Jon — live in denial: Dany is young and she’s pretty and she embraces the nurturing title of ‘Mother.’ It’s tempting to see her good side and ignore her bad side, and the same fans who are scorning Jon Snow for not seeing it before fell into the same trap that ensnared him.”
But I think there’s a stronger reason than that. Physical attraction may have something to do with it (and for some more than others), but ultimately it’s too superficial an explanation for the mass hysteria that has resulted in 1.3 million signatures petitioning for a do-over of season 8. I would submit that the major reason lies in the double alignment of Dany’s character.
By the end of book 5 and season 5, the character of Dany has been developed in very clear parallel to Jon. She does for the Dothraki what he does for the Wildlings, each empowering “inferior” tribal groups and bringing them beyond their homelands in the service of progressive causes — whether to liberate slaves or fight against the dead. Their passion for justice gets them into serious trouble; in essence both Dany and Jon become captives of their own command: Slaver’s Bay collapses around Dany’s ears, because the world isn’t ready for abolition; the Night’s Watch rebels against Jon and kills him, because no matter how noble his intentions as Lord Commander, he has committed treason.
It’s this — more than anything else, I believe — that steers us into thinking of Dany as an analog to Jon. He’s the righteous ice of the north, she’s the liberating fire of the east, and that is, after all, the title of Martin’s series. So Dany must be a hero like Jon; she will ultimately transcend her genetic cruelty. Jon — as most of us long suspected by the point of book 5/series 5 — has those Targaryen genes too, so how bad can they really be? Fans had all but made up their minds on Jon and Dany by the end of the fifth act. They were the heroes we could count on.
However, I’m convinced that Martin (and the show writers) also constructed Dany in deliberate parallel to Stannis Baratheon. From Dragonstone, each plotted to seize the Iron Throne at all costs. Each is a militant egomaniac with an inflated sense of royal entitlement. Like Stannis, Dany has absolute zero tolerance for those who question her authority. They have a passion for justice, but it’s a justice that proves (unlike Jon’s) to be inflexibly merciless. Stannis rewarded Davos with a knighthood for saving the city of Storm’s End and rescuing Stannis — while also promptly cutting off Davos’s fingers for smuggling food in that very act of liberation. Like Dany would later do, Stannis came to the north’s rescue (saving the Night’s Watch in the battle against the Wildlings) and took seriously the threat beyond the Wall. Unlike most rulers, Stannis and Dany can see the forest for the trees; they can look beyond petty politics to address eternal threats.
But they’re also capable of cruelty and evil. Dany watched her brother die hideously (at the hands of Drogo) without a trace of empathy; Stannis arranged for his brother to die (by the sorcery of Melisandre) when Renly refused to accept his royal claim. Dany killed the raped victim Mirri Maz Duur in order to hatch her dragons; Stannis burnt his daughter alive to survive the war against Ramsay Bolton. Dany likes crucifixions; Stannis likes dungeons and executions. Dany is as much like Stannis as she is like Jon.
These double parallels probably have a lot to do with the misunderstanding of Dany. Fans see the Jon parallels all too clearly, but hardly the Stannis ones at all. We see what we want, and viewers who are outraged have made it pretty clear that they’re not really Game of Thrones fans after all. If they were, they would have seen both sides of Dany and accepted them impartially; and they certainly would have heeded the lesson which George Martin has been pushing from the first pages: that there are no true heroes in Westeros — least of all the ones we like.
As we rev up for the 2020 election, remember: for the GOP elite, it’s all about me, not thee. I call it the TAFF Doctrine:
Tax cuts for me, but not for thee. (So the Trump tax “reform” benefiting business owners like him long term.)
Free health care for me, but not for thee. (So Mitch McConnell.)
Regarding the last point, it’s true that the biggest threats to free speech come from the left. Liberals are in fact the worst offenders of “me but not thee” when it comes to the First Amendment. But Trump has given leftists a sure run for their money.
It’s been a fun ride, Game of Thrones. I’ll miss you. Of the 73 episodes, here are 20 favorites I single out for special praise.
1. The Rains of Castamere. Season 3, Episode 9. The defining episode of Game of Thrones is the rare masterpiece that acquires instant legendary status — the equivalent of Breaking Bad’s Ozymandias and Hannibal’s Mizumono, drama that is perfectly calibrated for maximum emotional effect. The Red Wedding makes Ned’s execution in season 1 seem banal by comparison for the scale and treachery involved. Walder Frey slays his guests under sacred protection, the mass murder includes innocent victims like Robb’s pregnant wife, and the backstabbing comes from even allies as the Boltons turn on their liege lord. The episode also has Bran’s best scene before he becomes the One-Eyed Raven in season 6: holed up in the lake tower, warging his brains out, when Jon saves him from the wildling attack; it’s great wolf action from both Ghost and Summer. The Red Wedding is the reason Benioff and Weiss wanted to make the TV series and they did complete justice to it.
2. The Door. Season 6, Episode 5. When Bran finally emerges as the greenseer-warg who can manipulate time, the shit hits the fan. This is the Night King’s seminal moment, not the season-8 battle at Winterfell, which left much to be desired and did nothing with Bran at all. Here Bran wargs into Hodor to escape the white walkers, but he does so while he’s observing Winterfell in the past, which creates a psychic link between the two Hodors: past-Hodor becomes warged too and hears Meera yelling “hold the door” from the future, which he starts repeating until his mind snaps. So Bran is responsible for traumatizing Hodor and creating his mentally challenged state; it’s quintessential Game of Thrones tragedy. The white walker assault on the Weir Tree is quite a sequence, and the episode also has the best Ironborn scene of the series, with Yara claiming the Salt Throne and Euron winning it, followed by his baptism by drowning.
3. The Bells. Season 8, Episode 5. It’s the worst reviewed and most despised episode in the series, but don’t worry, give it time. I’m confident it will age well, and fans will look back and wonder at their stupidity. One reason I think people have been so misled about Dany is that her character has been developed as Jon’s parallel: she does for the Dothraki what he does for the Wildlings. They empower “inferior” tribal groups and bring them beyond their homelands in the service of righteous causes — whether to liberate slaves or fight against the dead. But for all Dany’s rhetoric about freedom and breaking the wheel, she’s at heart the opposite of Jon, innately cruel, and given to homicidal fits of rage when the wind blows wrong. That’s what happens in The Bells, and it’s the colossal tragedy the series had been building to all along.
4. Garden of Bones. Season 2, Episode 4. For my money, this is the most underrated episode of the series and certainly one of the nastiest. Joffrey has Sansa beaten in front of spectators in the throne room. Joffrey forces Ros to beat another whore bloody. The Mountain and his men torture young prisoners at Harrenhal. Most spectacularly, after Stannis and Renly trade public insults, Melisandre gives hideous birth to a shadow creature. It’s one demented act after another, and was scripted by Vanessa Taylor, whose other season-2 episode places on this list (The Old Gods and the New). She should have written a lot more for the series. She has a gift for squeezing out dramatic tension even in the most subdued moments. Garden of Bones is a serious artistic achievement in an otherwise mediocre season 2.
5. The Climb. Season 3, Episode 6. A visual masterpiece, which for whatever reason isn’t a big favorite among fans. Ramsay’s prolonged torture of Theon is too much for some people, but that doesn’t subtract from The Climb being one of the best directed episodes of the series. I was sweating when the Wall defended itself and sent the wildlings falling hundreds of feet to their demise. Jon and Ygritte’s precious moment at the top is well earned. Tyrion and Cersei have their best moment (finding common cause in grief over the marriages they’ve been shafted with), as do Tywin and Olenna (who sling mud at each other over the homosexual/incestuous inclinations of the other’s children). The best part, however, is Littlefinger’s monologue about his own “climb” of the ladder of life. He glorifies the ruthless who are willing to do whatever it takes to get ahead, which plays over the ugly death of Ros. It’s the coldest speech of the series and steals the show.
6. The Winds of Winter. Season 6, Episode 10. The first 20 minutes are a crowning directorial achievement, ending in the mass murder of just about everyone at King’s Landing — the High Sparrow, Margaery, Loras, Lancel, Mace Tyrell, Kevan Lannister included. In terms of sheer numbers, Cersie’s terrorist bomb kills more people than the Freys did at the Red Wedding. The episode also moves all the pieces into play for the final act: the Bastard King of the North, the Vicious Queen in the South, the Dragon Queen sailing on Westeros — while the Night King waits for them all. We get the supreme bonus of Faceless Arya assassinating the Freys, and finally get to see Oldtown which is incredibly gorgeous. The Winds of Winter has been called “The Godfather” episode of the series, and for good reason.
7. A Golden Crown. Season 1, Episode 6. Like a lot of episodes in season 1, this one packs loads of dramatic tension. War is foreshadowed when Robert (after punching Cersei in the face) refuses to allow Ned to step down as the Hand. He gets more than he bargained for when Ned sits the Iron Throne and summons Tywin Lannister to court on pain of treason, precipitating awful events. Meanwhile, over in the Vale, Tyrion is championed by Bronn, and the duel is a ripper. Still further east, Dany gets carnivorous with the horse heart — without question the best cross-cultural scene of the series — and Viserys is “rewarded” by Drogo with a molten gold crown. His death is incredibly disturbing — though not much to Dany, who just watches calmly, providing the earliest hints of her unforgiving cruelty.
8. The Spoils of War. Season 7, Episode 4. There are two episodes that represent what the series has been building to from the start: Hardhome in season 5 (see my #10) and this one, The Spoils of War, in season 7. Dany, against the advice of Tyrion and Jon, decides she’s not messing around and goes Aegon on the Lannister army. Watching the Dothraki decimate the Lannisters is incredible enough, but seeing Drogon channel Balerion the Black Dread is completely staggering. I get battle fatigue easily, but this battle is a constant adrenaline rush, and there’s great stuff even before that. Jon shows Dany the cave drawings of the Forest Children allied with men against the White Walkers. Arya comes home to Winterfell and sword-practices with Brienne. The surviving Stark kids catch up under the weirwood tree, and it’s simply amazing how far they’ve come since their separation in The Kingsroad.
9. The Mountain and the Viper. Season 4, Episode 8. The duel between Oberyn and Clegane is so well done that even if you read the books, it manages to make you think Oberyn might win and free Tyrion. Despite being utterly dwarfed by the Mountain, he looks believable as the most lethal warrior of Dorne; his acrobatics with the spear are hypnotic. This episode also features a stellar performance from Sansa, as she tearfully recounts Lysa’s “suicide” to the nobles of the Vale — both exposing and concealing Petyr’s deceptions, and finally taking control of her miserable life. Here she shows the potential for becoming dangerous like Petyr and shrewd like her mother; though unfortunately, having escaped Joffrey she has a full season of Ramsay to look forward to before she can transcend herself in the way she needs to.
10. Hardhome. Season 5, Episode 8. The number-two critical episode (the first is Spoils of War at #7) is a drastic departure from the novels, because it gets to the point in a way that Martin stalled on for too long in the books: the undead threat beyond the Wall. While everyone contends for the Iron Throne, believing that political rule of Westeros is the most important question, they are oblivious to the threat against life itself. That the walkers have made few appearances has been a strength, to be sure; this is a patient series not given to cheap thrills. But by the fifth book, a dramatic outing was overdue, and the show writers rectified this deficiency. The battle is incredible enough as it is, but when the Night King at the end slowly raises his arms, and every fallen member of both sides of the battle rises as a wight, the look on Jon’s face as the screen fades to black is one of the most powerful in the series. Also overdue was the hookup of Tyrion and Dany, and their disputing where and how Dany should rule; it’s a great interaction.
11. The Kingsroad. Season 1, Episode 2. I think I’ve watched this episode more than any other. After the introductions of the premiere, it offers even stronger family dynamics as the Stark kids go their separate ways. It’s amazing how so many scenes in this episode resonate in hindsight in the wake of seasons 7 and 8. Ned promises Jon they will talk about his mother when they next meet; Jon gives Arya a sword to practice with. Ned and Robert argue about killing Dany. (Dany, for her part, suffers marital rape until she tames Drogo on her terms.) There’s a lot of wolf action, as Bran is attacked in bed and recused by Summer; on the Kingsroad, Arya stabs Joffrey, Nymeria bites him, and Sansa’s wolf ends up paying the price for it. In Lord of the Rings, the breaking of the fellowship comes long after the hobbits leave the Shire. In Game of Thrones, the breaking of the Stark family is the initial departure from home, and many of these terrific characters will die and never see each other again. It’s a precious episode that gets better each year as you look back on it and see how far the characters have come (if they are still alive). I’m surprised more pick lists don’t rank it high.
12. The Iron Throne. Season 8, Episode 6. Despite the rushed and even comical feeling of Bran’s ascendance in the second half, I was deeply moved by the season finale and pleased by the fate of all characters save one: Tyrion’s. He should have been killed by Grey Worm; there was no reason for the Unsullied to keep him alive, unlike Jon. Everyone else went as they should. Dany was killed by Jon, and Jon sent to the Wall a criminal; our two Targaryen heroes fated to unhappy endings. Those who did get happy endings earned them (again, save Tyrion), and we’re left with Sansa as Queen of the North, and Bran the King of Westeros. The original title for Martin’s projected seventh book was not A Dream of Spring, but rather A Time for Wolves. The surviving Starks have gotten their due; the new era is in good hands. Though I wonder for how long. If power corrupts everyone, perhaps even a demigod like Bran is subject to it. (And if he really wants to warg into Drogon…) The first half is the ash-aftermath in King’s Landing, and Dany’s fascist speech; an extremely chilling piece of theater, Jon’s killing Dany is heartbreaking, as is Drogon’s trauma.
13. Kissed by Fire. Season 3, Episode 5. Jon and Ygritte’s love-play in the cave pool is the heart of the episode, resonating with foreordained tragedy. Ygritte means it when she says she wishes they could stay there forever, though certainly not because she fears war. On an unacknowledged level, they both know their romance can’t last. Then there is the Karstark fiasco that cements Robb’s own doom. If breaking his marriage-oath to Walder Frey was the unforgivable offense, executing Karstark and alienating his men is what will make the Red Wedding possible. Last but not least is the duel between the Hound and Beric Dondarrion. One of the many gems in the amazing season 3.
14. The Dance of Dragons. Season 5, Episode 9. Drogon’s flame strike in Daznak’s Pit is the main feature, but before that comes another and more outrageous fire, and possibly the most upsetting scene of the series: Stannis sacrificing his daughter Shireen to the Lord of Light. Back to back we witness the burning-at-the-stake of a completely innocent child, and then the glory of a queen reclaiming her destiny, as her untamed baby, now of monstrous size, roasts her attackers in the arena. I’m hard pressed to say which scene is more powerful, and it’s brilliant how the “Dance of Dragons” theme weaves through both; Stannis and Shireen’s discussion of the ancient dragons is so tenderly played, and a heartbreaking prelude to a father’s despicable decision.
15. The Battle of the Bastards. Season 6, Episode 9. It’s no exaggeration to say that the battle for Winterfell is one of the most incredibly choreographed battles ever done, and certainly the most impressive done for a TV series. As much as the Pelennor Fields in Jackson’s Return of the King, it immerses the viewer in the chaos and random carnage as seen from the ground. This is the long overdue payback for the Red Wedding, where the good guys actually win for a change. And what a sidebar bonus on Dany’s side of the story, as all three dragons annihilate a battle fleet at Mereen.
16. The Old Gods and the New. Season 2, Episode 6. Here is Theon’s notorious capture of Winterfell. When he executes Rodrik in front of Bran, it’s a brutal hack job that takes four goddamn swings (a far cry from the single clean strokes of the Starks). In a way it’s as upsetting as Ned Stark’s beheading, because the fall of Winterfell represents the evaporation of Ned’s entire house. Things also get rough at Kings Landing, as Joffrey and his retinue are attacked by a starving mob, and Sansa nearly raped until rescued by the Hound. Meanwhile, Arya has become Tywin’s cupbearer at Harrenhal, and they have some of the best character moments in the series. Up north Ygritte makes her debut: Jon is unable to kill her, and she begins tormenting him with lewd come-ons. A stand-out episode in every way.
17. The Laws of Gods and Men. Season 4, Episode 6. Tyrion’s mummer trial, his “confession” before the court, and demand for a trial by combat harks back to his imprisonment in the Eyrie, but this time the drama is more stirring. When even Shae testifies against him with lies, his reaction to the crowd’s laughter is spot on: “I saved you all — all your worthless lives.” He confesses to the crime of simply being a dwarf, for which he’s been on trial all his bloody life. “I didn’t kill Joffrey, but I wish I had. I wish I had enough poison for you all. I wish I was the monster you think I am.” This pivotal scene is true to the book, and one of Tyrion’s best moments, and certainly his most memorable.
18. And Now His Watch is Ended. Season 3, Episode 4. The title refers to Lord Mormont, who is killed by his own men at Craster’s Keep. That’s explosive enough. But the real explosion comes overseas in Slaver’s Bay, where Dany comes into her own and roasts the city of Astapor. The “Dracarys” moment is almost as powerful as in the book; I say almost because of the liberties taken back in the House of the Undying, where the dragons made their first “Dracarys” kill with Pyat Pree. (The Qarth thread of season 2 has been the weakest adaptation to date.) But it doesn’t end up mattering much. This is a truly glorious episode.
19. The Queen’s Justice. Season 7, Episode 3. The long-awaited meet between Jon and Dany is perfectly scripted, and I’ve watched the scene many times. They hold to their autonomy hardly realizing how similar they are. The Targaryen heroes command the love of their people and have done the unthinkable — Dany by bringing the Dothraki to Westeros, Jon by making common cause with the Wildlings. Both have suffered immensely for their causes. Dany’s crusade in Slaver’s Bay ended up collapsing around her ears, while Jon’s alliance with the Wildlings was treason which got him killed. There’s other good stuff, notably Bran’s return to Winterfell and reunion with Sansa, Cersei giving Euron command of the royal fleet, and the death of Olenna Tyrell who tells Jaime she killed Joffrey; a wonderful parting blow.
20. The Pointy End. Season 1, Episode 8. If Baelor (Ned Stark’s execution) is the fan favorite, The Pointy End right before it is actually even better. A lot happens in the episode, and it was scripted by Martin himself. Drogo is challenged by one of his men when Dany refuses to allow war captives to be raped, and Drogo rewards him by ripping his tongue out of his throat. At Kings’ Landing, Arya kills a stable boy in the chaos following Ned’s imprisonment — and after watching Syrio Forell clobber the shit out of four Lannister knights with a wooden training sword before dying under Ser Meryn’s blade. In the north, the Greatjon challenges Robb’s right to lead the clans, and Grey Wind leaps over the dinner table and bites his finger off. At the Wall, Jon kills a reanimated wight. This one seriously gets your blood up, and is a surprisingly underrated episode.
With the pool of 22 Democratic candidates to choose from, here are the ones I like. None is perfect, but I would be happy enough if any of the following four got the nomination.
1. Tulsi Gabbard. My favorite candidate so far. Her economic policies are progressive enough to pull us out of the neoliberal funk that’s been plaguing the Dems and keeping the lower classes shafted and the middle class forgotten. She’s superb on foreign policy, denouncing the necons and the neolibs impartially, and insisting on minimal military engagements abroad. She’s one of the few who gets Islam right and doesn’t hesitate to speak honestly about the problem. Unlike Bush and Obama, she won’t pander to leftist fears of “Islamophobia” while carrying on useless wars abroad; unlike Bernie Sanders, she won’t support pernicious left-wing Islamist activists like Linda Sarsour. She actively opposes radical Islam, and has denounced the hawkish regimes of Bush and Obama who toppled dictators (Hussein, Gaddafi, Sisi, Assad) which only paved the way for greater evils (ISIS-jihadists and sharia-enamored Islamists). (She describes herself as a hawk only when it comes to actual terrorism, and as a dove on everything else.) Her record on all the main issues is commendable. She supports the legalization of pot, universal health care, making community colleges free and other colleges more affordable. She’s pretty much my candidate all around.
2. Jay Inslee. It’s hard not to like him since he makes the number one problem his number one priority. If we don’t solve climate change, nothing else matters. He runs the danger of being a Johnny one-note, but if there’s any issue to be single-note about, it’s climate change. His record on other policies looks trustworthy in any case.
3. Elizabeth Warren. My third choice would actually be Bernie Sanders, except that Bernie is getting long in the tooth. Warren is cut from the same cloth, and she has most of her priorities straight: investing in education and research, reducing income inequality, helping unions, improving health care, etc.
4. Pete Buttigieg. He’s a bit vague on how he’d implement policies, but he has a lot of the right ideas, and clearly wants to help the causes of education and transportation infrastructure to provide more opportunities. On a few issues he’s actually better than Warren and Sanders, for instance, against their free college proposals (which I take to be misguided), Buttigieg proposes more affordable college tuition, like Gabbard does. I have the feeling this guy could be my #2 or 3 choice if here were more concrete and detailed about his proposals.
Bernie Sanders and Mike Gravel. I like them a lot, but when you get over 85 you should probably retire.
Joe Biden, Kamala Harris, John Delaney, Kirsten Gillibrand. We don’t need neoliberal placeholders or shape-shifting Wall-Street buddies. It would be a repeat of the Obama era — more useless and costly military intervention abroad, more misguided economic policies, all of which will likely result in another Trump-equivalent down the line.
Unfortunately, I think Joe Biden is going to get the nomination. And we’ll be right back to the same dismal choice we had in the 2016 election.
I’m grateful for all the reader feedback to my Stranger Things series. In the Upside Down Trilogy I told the tragedy of Mike Wheeler and his son, as I imagine them, and how Eleven survives the traumas of these events. The Hopper Stories are supplementary prequels in which I explored the relationship between Eleven and her father, as they team up against threats completely unrelated to the Upside Down. There is one more story to come, per reader request: the (first) death of Mike Wheeler. It will be the capstone to my series, the prequel to end all prequels, and a very dark tale.
One reader asked me to rank the five stories to date, but I can’t possibly be objective about my own work. I can say that World’s End is my favorite of the five, and I really like the whole Upside Down trilogy for its soul. Here’s generally how I feel about them. (Spoilers follow. If you want to read the stories before any commentary, click on the links.)
The Upside Down Trilogy
The College Years was the most personal and emotional story for me to write, since Mike Wheeler is my favorite character from the TV series. Killing him off twice did a number on me.
The New Generation contains the most difficult chapter in the entire series: El’s battle with the Llaza. It’s a very abstract clash, inner as much outer, and it went through a lot of revisions until I was happy with it. It’s my favorite El-battle in the five stories. And Mike Hopper’s aging backwards is almost as emotional as the death of his father in the first story.
World’s End plays for high stakes, and is my favorite overall. It has everything — suspense, emotion, time travel, personal sacrifice, all in a post-apocalyptic wasteland.
The Hopper Stories
The Witch of Yamhill County was a gratifying jerk-off. It’s a brutal dungeon crawl that allowed me to bring a killer D&D module to life in a way I’ve always wanted to.
The Black Rose of Newberg is a murder mystery exploring Eleven’s vulnerabilities. Being ultra-powerful makes her dysfunctional, and I wanted to examine that in a serious way. The story also finally gave me the opportunity to use her Void-surfing powers (when she visits people or spies on them in the black ether). In the other four stories, she uses her telekinetic abilities to kick ass, but a murder mystery calls for more spying and subterfuge.
The Fall of Mike Wheeler (forthcoming)
Readers have told me they want to know Mike’s full story — his breakup with El, his death and obscene resurrection, and his imprisonment in the Upside Down. As I said, that’s a dark story, and I hope to tell it sometime within the next year, probably in the fall or winter. It will narrate the final challenge faced by the Hawkins kids in their pre-adult years, followed by Mike’s life of hell in the Upside Down. The novel will (tentatively) be titled Endless Night.