On May 26, 1897, the literary world was gifted with the publication of the one and only Dracula by Bram Stoker. This incredible novel, though initially not well received, has gone on to earn recognition as one of the greatest literary classics of our time. Iterations of this story have appeared not only in literature, but also on the stage, in television, and in film. While the version most widely known today is far from the original creation, you would be hard pressed to find anyone who was not familiar with the legendary vampire in some way, shape, or form.
I won’t babble on about Dracula today, because we all know that would be far too lengthy a post! I could discuss the topic for days! In honor of our most beloved Count, I will simply present a selection of the many incarnations we have seen. How many are you familiar with?
Also, here is some of the amazing cover art the novel has received over the years (I collect different covers myself, if you need any gift ideas):
THE ORIGINAL COVER!
Obviously, I can’t post them all. Far too many! But I will post the only Stoker estate-sanctioned sequel to Dracula, called Dracula the Undead. It was written by Dacre Stoker (great grand-nephew of Bram) and Ian Holt. I just finished it myself, and it was an incredible follow up to the classic tale! 100% Twisted Libra recommended!
No, this isn’t some zombie-Jesus, Easter holiday type thing. Ladies, gentlemen, vagrants, and vagabonds…your Twisted Libra has returned!
Forgive the prolonged absence. That pesky thing we call real life sometimes gets in the way. Since my last post, I have had quite the busy personal and professional schedule. This prevented me from haunting the cemetery and having spooky ideas occupy my mind. However, the fire of the muse burns eternal; this morning I felt the pull of the graveyard and was gladly consumed! While I did truly miss this place while I was away, the short sabbatical was not without some merit. It caused me to once again take stock of the things I desire most in my life. My happy place is among the remains. These past few weeks, I really just sat up and took notice.
My heart loves the spooky because I am the spooky. Going through the day-to-day stuff without some type of creeptivity (still trying to make this happen) makes me uncomfortable. I need scary stories, dark poems, black everything, and general macabre influence in my little world. I’m one of the weird kids. Always will be. Just a shmexy little weirdo.
I am so glad you are all still here. I promise to be more attentive here within these cemetery walls. Thank you for reading this, and for subscribing to my blog. (wait, you don’t subscribe? tf is wrong with you? go sign up. jeeze…) My wicked mind is once again brimming with darkness and decay. Sit back and enjoy, the Twisted Libra Cemetery gates are swinging wide open. Here I come!
As always, if you enjoyed what you just read, or if you want to see some of my other creations, check out the interactive map of the Twisted Libra Cemetery! There is something there for every twisted soul!Enter the Twisted Libra Cemetery!
This day is special. It is significant. It should be celebrated. No, not because of some ridiculous excuse for companies to sell cards and flowers; on this day 90 years ago…Dracula made its silver screen debut!
The date was February 14, 1931. What began as a Bram Stoker novel and grew into a Hamilton Deane/John Balderston stage play had now become a major motion picture. There was Dracula, handsome, dapper, and larger than life! While he was nothing like the Count as we knew him in the book, this version of Dracula became the icon embedded in the modern popular culture. Anything you see today that is related to Dracula carries a piece of this film along with it. Among the parts from the book that did make it into the film lies one of my favorite quotes:
Seriously, this one of my favorite quotes of all time. I even had a custom phone case made that says it. I plan to have it tattooed on me someday. I could write a thesis about this film; I have studied the film, as well as the book and the legend, extensively. I won’t bore you with my vast knowledge and adoration for the most famous vampire ever. I just wanted to bring awareness to this special day, and let you all know that the little cherub with the bow and arrow doesn’t get all the glory. Happy Dracula Film Debut Day!
Want more? Come visit the Twisted Libra Cemetery! All my creations are buried there. I’m sure I can dig up something wickedly delightful for you!
This week, I began reading Dracula by Bram Stoker. For the third time. In truth, it is the only book I have ever read more than once, aside from the Scary Stories or Tales for the Midnight Hour series. Each time I read it, I find a new sense of enjoyment for it. This time is the best so far. It is such a descriptive and intriguing story, and it frightens the reader with dark imagery that most modern novels (in my opinion) seem to be lacking. Of course, reading the novel makes it even more abundantly clear how much of a disservice has been done to this tale by Hollywood.
I know what you’re thinking: “But, Twisted Libra! Your favorite film is the 1931 Dracula!” True, I do adore a Hollywood version of my beloved count. However, I recognize that this film, and many that followed, are based on the stage play by Hamilton Deane and John Balderston. Their version, while somewhat of an homage to Bram Stoker’s original creation, was a vast departure from Dracula in his literary form. I love that film for it’s original take on the legend, and for the perseverance of the cast and crew through what was undeniably a tumultuous shoot. And hey, Bela Lugosi. Enough said.
However, being a true fan of Dracula, I cannot deny that Hollywood seems to keep shitting on the best parts of the novel. I held hope back in 1992 when the Francis Ford Coppola film arrived, promising to adhere to the original story. Well…it failed. I mean, yes, in many ways it did hold true…but it embellished or altered many parts that I feel would have been best left alone. A prime example is when Mina awakens to find Lucy missing in the night. She tracks her down, only to find her with some dark entity of sorts. In the novel, she sees Lucy in her white nightdress, sitting on a cemetery bench with her head back. A dark figure seems to be leaning over her shoulder from behind. It looks up, its eyes glowing red, and then it seems to vanish while clouds briefly obscure the moonlight. This is written so well, and is so creepy to read. Did the film do this?
Um…no. No, they did not. In the 1992 film, Mina finds Lucy mid-coitus with some huge, ridiculous-looking werewolf type beast on a bench in the middle of some garden. And given that Lucy is presumably sleep-walking and up to this point has been unaware of any influence from Dracula, this gives the sex a somewhat rapey subtext. Hollywood was trying to spice up the story with unnecessary sex appeal and, in the process, ruined what could have been an utterly terrifying scene. Hooray for Hollywood?
I don’t mean to sound as though I am against Dracula films. I rather enjoy them. I would just like to see a film stay absolutely true to the book for once. To my knowledge, that has yet to occur. If I am wrong, feel free to correct me in the comments. I don’t particularly care for that 1992 version. It tried and came so close, but the things it did change were just too senseless and pretty much ruined the story. For me, anyway. I will say, the original novel is better than any film. Of all the films, the 1931 version is still my favorite. I have my reasons; perhaps I will discuss them in a future post. Until then, enjoy the novel, enjoy the films, enjoy the genre. Take a big bite.
As always, if you enjoy this post, you can find all of my wicked creations over at my cemetery! Open to all, there is something devious lurking for each of you within the crypts and tombs! Find it here: Enter the Twisted Libra Cemetery
I don’t have much to say today. Nothing profound, at least. However, I did write something a while back that I felt like sharing here today. Enjoy!
I open my eyes in the darkness, yet somehow I am able to see. Although I lie on a satin cushion, wood rests around and in front of me. A momentary panic consumes me as I realize the air is no more. It quickly subsides when it dawns on me that I no longer breathe as before. With my cold hands against the wood, I push with all my might. Hinges creak as the casket lid lifts, and I arise into the night. I step into the shadows, and take a look around the silent room. It seems I have been resting alone, within a dank and darkened tomb. Cautiously, I begin to ascend a set of crumbling marble stairs. Exiting my mysterious sepulcher, I feel the embrace of the cool night air. With awareness of the sounds of creatures that previously caused me fright, My ears hear for the very first time the lovely symphony of the night. Curiosity and craving draw me forth among the moonlit crypts. I am now driven by the desire for a sanguine wine upon my lips.
Remember, if you enjoyed this blog post, there is so much more waiting for you behind the gates of my cemetery! Find it here: http://www.twistedlibracemetery.com
I woke this morning to learn that some fortunate soul (not me) won an insanely large sum of money last night in the lottery. Can you imagine? I wouldn’t even know where to begin. It got me thinking, as such situations often do, about where I would like to travel if money was not an issue. Obviously, my mind created this dream list with pre-pandemic parameters in place. When I dream of travel, I tend to dream about how things were, because I don’t enjoy the idea of travel as things currently are.
There are many places I wish I had visited before the world went to shit, for now I fear I may never get the chance to experience these places fully. I want to visit New Orleans and walk through the beautiful cemeteries. I want to browse through the boutiques filled with magic and folklore. I want to tour old, historic locations with ghostly backstories. I want to hear the live jazz music and get swept away in the wonder of the night. Forget Mardi Gras, though. You couldn’t pay me to be a part of that crowd.
I want to visit the witch museum in Salem, Massachusetts. To walk through the very homes and buildings these women lived in, to see and feel that space…that would be incredible. I am a sucker for historical locations. I honestly feel an energy from old places, like a vibe. I love to feel connected to places like that. I want to visit the Lizzie Borden house, the Winchester mansion, several cemeteries, and Disney World. No, I have never been to Disney. Honestly, the only reason I truly want to go is to ride the Haunted Mansion ride as many times in a row as they will allow. I have zero interest in any other attraction. Just the Haunted Mansion. I have dreamt of seeing it since I was three, and I watched a television special called “Disney’s Halloween Treat” that featured the dancing ghosts in the ballroom.
This post is making me a little sad. I have all these places I want to go, but I seriously doubt I will ever get there. The world is never going to be the same as it was before this nasty virus, and I am afraid my list of dream destinations will become unattainable. Damn, now my mood is just completely shot. Sorry, I did not mean for this post to take such a downward turn. I have a lot to be grateful for, so if I end up having to forgo travel then so be it. Things could be much worse, and I can always make my home a spooky little paradise within which I may always travel freely. That is enough for me. For now, anyway.
Speaking of travel, be sure to drop by my cemetery for a visit! It’s a great place, folks are just dying to get in! http://www.twistedlibracemetery.com
I started writing again today. I woke up this morning with an excellent short story in my head, so I have begun working on it today. It feels good to be inspired again, to know my voice has returned. The hiatus was long and difficult. Today, I feel content. I feel a sense of peace and calm. I haven’t been able to say that in quite some time.
I also have a new approach for my writing, as far as stories go. In the past, I would hold myself to some absurd time frame. If I began writing a story, I could not walk away until it was finished. In hindsight, this was not at all healthy. Not only did it cause me to sit for hours at my computer without a break, but it also brought my stories to a sort of forced completion at times. If I began to feel burned out or in need of focus, I would instead keep writing. I just had to get to the ending. It felt like a compulsion. An obsession. In my haste, I would sometimes miss opportunities to fill out the body of a story with more depth and detail, all because I was so consumed with reaching the ending.
Don’t ask me why I did this to myself and my work, because I honestly don’t have a suitable answer. Sometimes I get stuck in a mental pattern, and it is difficult for me to break away from habit. I broke away today, though. I began the story, wrote until I felt my focus begin to fade, then I added some key notes to the bottom of the document so I don’t forget them. With that, I simply walked away. I watched the presidential inauguration. I played with my dog. I had a snack. I feel no desire to force myself to finish the story. It is there, in my head, and my notes have been made. I can get back to it when I am ready and can give it the attention and love it deserves. This will not only make me a better writer, but it will give all my wicked little lovelies the best stories possible to enjoy.
With that said, I want to thank you all. Despite my recent shortcomings, you continue to haunt my little cemetery right along beside me. That means so much. I am back, I am stronger, and I am carrying on. This would not be possible without your support. I adore you all for believing in me. Your Twisted Libra is back, and she feels ready to conquer the world.
Today marks one year since I lost someone very close to me. I won’t go into details here, but this morning I find myself thinking about loss. Thinking about how we, as human beings, deal with loss; particularly that of a loved one. The dead live on through our memories, brought forth by bouts of nostalgic longing. However, each individual we meet in life will remember us differently from the next. In that regard, which version of us actually exists after death? Is it even accurate? Or is the true essence of who we were lost forever once we slip beneath the veil?
I’m not trying to negate the feeling of closeness we get from remembering our beloved dead. It’s just that my mind won’t stop contemplating this now. Perhaps this is how I deal? I am truly sad today, but often times my sadness leads to deep, melancholic thought. I have always said that every person has at least three faces: the one you show strangers, the one you show loved ones, and the one you keep to yourself. If that’s true, then in theory, our true self dies with us. The memory left behind is not actually of ourselves, but of how we affected others. It’s a caricature of sorts, based on how others saw us when we were alive.
Maybe the only way to be truly remembered as you are is to reveal yourself fully to the world? Imagine that. Taking off the masks, showing who you are, warts and all. I don’t think any of us could actually do that. To be so exposed, so vulnerable, so open to judgement. Although it would feel delightfully freeing to not have to keep up any sort of façade in life.
I think I am content with my three faces. They serve me well. And I don’t find myself all that concerned with how I am remembered. I have no desire for any type of legacy. Besides, I won’t be here to see it anyway. Now, if I discover a way to come back and haunt you all, or if by some miracle vampirism becomes a real thing and I get to partake, then I will be interested to see how you all carry my name forward once I am gone. Until then, just enjoy me while I am here and think about me sometime when I leave for good.
(As always, if you enjoyed this post feel free to like and comment. You can find more of my wicked creations buried here: http://www.twistedlibracemetery.com )
If you read my previous blog post, you know I have been in a depressive slump for quite some time. I am glad to say that the muse has finally touched my soul once again, and I am writing. Here lies my latest endeavor:
I open my mouth to shout, But nothing comes out, And I remain unseen. I cry, but my tears fade away, Nobody is swayed, By my misery. I collapse on the ground all alone, Nowhere to call home, I am now just a ghost. Forever in search of a place, No smile on my face, This pain hurts the most. My lungs feel void of air, Overcome with despair, I tremble and shake. Nothing is what it seems, I’m stuck in a dream, And I can’t seem to wake. Help me, before I slip under, My life torn asunder, The end is beginning. There is no more fight in my soul, I’m losing control, The demons are winning.
Before you ask, I am fine. True, I go to some very dark places when the depression takes hold. Writing about how I feel keeps me sane and alive. I may feel like dying, but I promise I am not going anywhere any time soon. So no worries. The poetry heals me, it never hurts me. Walking the dark path is actually therapeutic to me.
On lighter note, I drove out to my favorite local cemetery and took some cool photos today. I have been needing to do that for so long. Granted, due to a current knee injury, I wasn’t able to get down and catch all the cool angles and such. Still, I think I did okay. Check them out over at the Twisted Libra instagram page. You can find links to all the burial sites for my wicked creations at www.twistedlibracemetery.com.
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Dancing Among the Remains 