Once upon a time, Preston and I read The Road by Cormac McCarthy. His aunt hated it, his brother hated it and we . . . well, we didn't hate it. We appreciated it. But it wasn't heartwarming by any means. The writing is sparse and gray, echoing the book's tone itself and although I couldn't put it down, it was simultaneously painful to pick up. I'm not going to "spoiler alert" this, so I won't go too deep into the plot itself, but imagine a dark, post-apocalyptic world with little food, hope, or quotation marks. Thus is The Road.
A few chapters into it, I had a horrible dream that found you, me and everyone we know in similar Road-like conditions (as opposed to Roadhouse conditions, which would have been awesome and far less frightening. Maybe). The dream sufficiently freaked me out, so I didn't want to keep reading but Preston assured me that it got better. The next night, I had another dream in which husband had made a fluffy pastel book cover for The Road so I'd be less scared. Even in my dream, he still really wanted me to finish . . . mostly, I think, so we could talk about the last paragraph. (Norman Maclean, anyone?)
When I woke up, I decided to compromise, using a fluffy pastel birthday card as a bookmark. Success! Fooling me out of my own emotions with color is fun! I finally finished the book.
I tell this story to tell another: the movie's coming out this Thanksgiving, and we've recently discovered a really strange movie tie-in: Survive the Road: the video game. It's a post apocalyptic Oregon Trail! Unfortunately, you can't hunt buffalo and (spoiler alert) you always die. And boy howdy, this time around it's not diphtheria.
Our mockery of such a strange, inappropriate way of advertising the movie has led us down the slippery slope of full blown obsession with the game. Much like the book (and perhaps the movie, I don't know yet) the game is long and depressing but for some reason, I can't stop thinking about it. So here it is: http://www.survivetheroadgame.com. Someone please try to beat it for me. Then tell me how.
And, if you would, spell it out for me in butterflies.