A Book by Shawn Drake

An inverted "The Five People you Meet in Heaven." More along the lines of "The Five People you Drag Back to Hell."


© 2008 Shawn Drake

My Review

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Hey, I have some comments to make about the poster below. But firstly this story is going into my favorites, and Dorian Raker is absolutely the coolest name for a character I've ever heard. I'm a fan.

I think the poster below is making too many assumptions though. I didn't read anything about the coffin being made of a fine, expensive wood, and I also didn't read anything that would indicate anything other than the fact that he was murdered. I got the image that the coffin was cheap, a plywood box practically that they just chucked a body into and burried it. Seeing as the earth was indeed not packed that well, the graveyard was probably make-shift, something out in the countryside, and if there is significant moisture in the dirt that would mean it is soft and easy to dig through. The coffin really isn't important at all, I mean the writers of Kill Bill made breaking out of a burried coffin work out.

This is a great beginning to what I know will be a great story.

Posted 13 Years Ago

Wow quite a delightfully wicked tale you have here. I would love to read more of this, and I definitely want more. Dark fantasy is wonderful, as is your writing. Kudos.

Elle B.

Posted 13 Years Ago

How's it going. i was browsing the group and came across you. Mind if i point out soemthings?

"Wood." consider avoiding this single word as a paragraph all its own.

"feels into cake onto his face" this is an awkward phrase.

I'm having a hard time believing that this character is going to be human, Dorian Raker. First, he emerges by punching through the casket, but the wood is weak and soft. How long has he been buried? As the author, do you have any idea how long it takes for pinebox, or oak wood to soften in the earth? next, the soil is loose. Grave soil loose? Was he buried only a foot underground? If he's under six feet, and the wood has decomposed into a softened condition, then there must be significant moisture in the dirt, therefore, it's got to be heavy. and consider, how much air can you breathe in a casket, before it is gone, and then is there enough to yell in frustration before harming your throat?
otherwise! if this guy is more than human, and the conditions of his burial are normal, than the vocabulary used to describe these obstacles needs to be reconsidered. because they convey that his murderers were not only less than cautious, but bumbling idiots.
of course this is contingent on knowing the length of confinement, and whether or not this person is still mortal. the opening paragraphs allude to the idea that this is a resurrection scene. he thought he was holding his breath, his brain churns sluggishly (like coffee going through a morning coffee maker, i thought of), he can't remember anything (well except the vague recollection of the five). and
"He feels the steady rhythm of his heart, pushing the life through his veins. It burns like liquid fire, pushing consciousness into the parts of him that have lain dormant for far too long" - i dont doubt its a resurrection, but mortal or immortal, or something completely different. your vocabulary suggests he's mortal.

I'm actually amazed about something while i read this. And i stared at it for a moment, noting the significance in my own life. If life itself is a language that communicates through coincidences than your piece communicated something to me. I once dreamed about four men and one woman. I was trapped in a crevasse of ice that i caused from resurrecting the shaman powers of the Horse by embodying the fear-power and self preservation through the Rabbit. they watched me struggle, one of them injured, but the woman was unseen off to the right. they bent a tree trunk into the crevasse to help me out.

quite different from your story, so far, but nonetheless, the simple report in there hit me.
keep it up. i'm interested in hearing from you if there is something you want to discuss about the scene i noted

Posted 13 Years Ago

Well done. Look forward to reading more.

Posted 13 Years Ago

This reminds me of the Crow. A lot. And I loved the Crow. HOWEVER, this isn't a review trying to say that I think that you're simply imitating a master and it's time to just give it up. In fact, that's quite the opposite of what I really want to say here. You've taken an iconic idea and twisted it to the point where it feels different enough that I recognize the source, but feel a different voice.

I sound vague, I'm aware, but let me get to the point here. You've taken a great idea, and made it very distinctly your own. It's like Iced Earth taking Phantom of the Opera--except that you're not quite as linked with O'Barr. First of all, I have no idea what was done to this poor b*****d to wake him up from what was supposed to be a "peaceful" sleep. I have no idea what voice is inspiring him to do so either.

And I never saw a scene of Eric Draven clawing his way out of the inside of a grave. I saw that in Kill Bill 2, but that's a totally different story, so forget I brought it up. ANYWAY, I love it so far. I want to know what was done to poor Raker and why he's so hellbent on this plot of revenge.

I love revenge stories. And you deliver. But now it's like crack: I'm addicted and I need more. So please, Mr. Dealer, be kind to a faithful addict?

Posted 13 Years Ago

Oh my. Creepy. Chilling. Intriguing. Hmm...I'm interested.

Fabulous job, as always, Sir Drake. ;)

Posted 13 Years Ago

YAY SHAWN DRAKE!!! Love the description and imagery. I will reiterate: you, my friend, are a master writer in every sense of the word. It seems a lot like The Crow to me, actually...which was a good movie. I enjoyed it. Write more, d****t!!!

Posted 13 Years Ago

I am surprised that this has no comments. The wtiting is descriptive and captivating. It reads easily and much to short. Will there be more?

Posted 13 Years Ago

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Shelved in 2 Libraries
Added on February 11, 2008


Shawn Drake
Shawn Drake

Las Vegas, NV

Not so very long ago Back when this all began There stood a most exceptional Yet borderline young man Alone and undirected He longed to strike and shine To bleed the ink from his veins And his .. more..


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