Sunday, December 26, 2010

Monster Heart, The Francis Norman Stein Story (Frank N.Stein) by Gary Turcotte

Francis Norman Stein plays football.  In fact, football is his whole life, his focus.  Francis is determined to be the biggest, best football player ever.  He will do anything to make sure he succeeds. 

His father is away alot on business, so essentially it is just his mom and him, and in his mother's eyes, he can do no wrong.  She loves her son and cooks alot of food for him and makes his protein shakes. 

But Francis (He doesn't like to go by the name of Frank), doesn't think he is getting bigger fast enough, so between him and his friend Patrick, they discover the world of prescription drugs, illegal drugs and steroids become their new best friend.

With his superiority on the football field, Francis becomes popular and the girls flock to him, but he really likes Irene.  She plays the party game with Francis and Patrick and they have a good time. 

But the more drugs Francis does, the more he acts differenty.  He begins to get cysts on his head, lumps on his neck, his rage spirals out of control and he blacks out, remembering nothing of what transpired.  He seeks out more drugs, lowering himself into a criminal, and begins to hate himself and everyone around him.  The drugs have taken over his life.  Irene leaves him for rehab, and he sinks lower into depression.  But he is still looking for that next thrill, and even though his body is paying the price, he wants to be bigger, stronger, the best.  But every action has a consequence, and Francis's actions and choices turn him into a monster. 

Monster Heart is a unique and modern twist on the age-old Frankenstein story.  It's an up close look at what drugs can do to a person and those that surround him.  It's horrific and tragic, but it is all too real as it is what is happening all around us in our societies.  Gary Turcotte has penned a story that will keep you thinking long after the last page is turned.  A definite worth-read!

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The old grey donkey, Eeyore stood by himself in a thistly corner of the Forest, his front feet well apart, his head on one side, and thought about things. Sometimes he thought sadly to himself, "Why?" and sometimes he thought, "Wherefore?" and sometimes he thought, "Inasmuch as which?" and sometimes he didn't quite know what he was thinking about.

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