#laura miller

[woundthatswallows]

introduction to the haunting of hill of house by shirley jackson, by laura miller

#the haunting of hill house #shirley jackson #laura miller #words #2023 reads

[wmiqaqueen]

#laura miller #portal #bookworm

[kringletheelf04]

Dad is late and Laura wants to make my life hell (chapter 1)

Ever since I could remember I've had the name Bernard practically engraved onto my wrist. Elegant strokes had seemed to dance joyfully across my skin, silver glittery writing that practically glows. I've never met anyone with only a first name. In fact I've never met anyone with a tattoo on them since birth.

Today was Christmas Eve and Laura was dropping Charlie off at me and dads house. Neil, his stepdad, decided to drive them there.

I see them pull into the driveway and open the door wide as Charlie runs to me with open arms. I pick him up and spin around once and set him back down as he giggles. I stand back up and hug Laura .

"I see your father couldn't even be here to greet Charlie. Not that I'm surprised." Laura snarks.

"He just got caught up at work for a little more than he thought. He called me and said he'll be here within the hour." I retort.

Even if she is my step mom she doesn't deserve to be able to talk shit about dad. He's never been the same since their divorce. My mom died when I was around 11. It was on Christmas Day that she died and I've never liked it since. I remember asking Santa to have her survive that year. I had rushed down the stairs hoping to see my mom and dad on the couch, mom checked out from the hospital and all better. Instead I got a dad with glassy eyes and every present I had ever wanted over the years, but no mom. Ever since then I stopped believing in Santa and the whole Christmas shtick. I'm now 22 and work as a baker living in my childhood home with my dad. He could never do it alone and I could never imagine what he would do alone. He's planning to make Christmas dinner so I've already made a reservation for Dennys seeing as it's the only thing open late on Christmas Eve. As I was silently praying that I don't have to spend any more time than necessary with this woman Charlie's voice breaks my concentration on keeping a fake smile on.

"There's not any Christmas lights outside sissy! Can we put some up to surprise dad when he comes home?!" Charlie pleads with the biggest puppy eyes he could muster.

Sighing I nod and kiss his head.

"Sure bud but I'm gonna have to get them from the attic so stay here in the living room until I get back."

He nods his little head and pulls his mom onto the couch where he sits.

I trudge up the stairs to the attic and open the pull latter. All are Christmas decor is still in boxes because dad knows it's a sore subject. But I'd probably kill someone if Charlie asked. So I suffer bringing down the cardboard box labeled *X-MAS LIGHTS*. I make my way back down to the living room and Laura has this annoyed look on her face. As if I'm not fit to watch my brother even though I'm 22. I literally have a successful bakery in downtown Chicago for christs sake!

Charlie notices my presence and runs over to me with the biggest grin he could muster.

"Sissy (y/n)! Let's go decorate the house!" He gently pulls on my sweater sleeve as he guide me out the door. Laura gets up with crossed arms and follows us out.

"So (y/n), you ever get that little idea of yours off the ground? Because if not I'm sure your dad can give you a job scrubbing toilets at his company." Laura asks rather smugly.

Oh how I hate that bitch. I force a smile on my face and turn to her.

"Actually I have a shop in downtown Chicago on Michigan avenue. Thanks for asking Laura!" I rub in her face and get back to lifting Charlie into the air to put the lights on the roof.

"Well how do you afford that. I mean you can't be making that much money off of cookies alone. Are you running a drug ring in the back?" Laura whispers the last bit into my ear as to block Charlie from hearing it.

I bite my lip and take a deep breath before setting Charlie back down and turning to her.

"Charlie it's getting a little cold, why don't you run along inside and I'll be inside in a minute." I smile at him.

"Ok sissy (y/n)!" Charlie skips inside shutting the door behind him.

"How dare you. I've been very cordial seeing as your a massive bitch and all you can say is that I have got to be a drug dealer because I'm making enough money to afford my dream." I snap at her.

Looking dumbfounded she begins sputtering as dad rolls into the driveway.

"Hey guys! Sorry I'm late. Hope I haven't kept you waiting to long!" Dad smiles at us not realizing how tense things just were.

"There's Christmas lights up!

(y/n), I didn't think you wanted them up this year." Dad looks at me confused

"Charlie wanted to surprise you. You know I can't say no to his little face!" I defend myself laughing a bit.

"Your daughter just called me a bitch just so you know Scott." Laura tells dad.

Dad frowns at me "(y/n), now why would do that? All she did was drop Charlie off."

"She said that I was a drug dealer!" I defend myself.

"I did no such thing!" Laura lies.

"(y/n) apologize to your stepmom now!" Dad practically seethes.

"That's bullshit and you know it. She's lying. And she's not even my stepmom anymore!" I turn and go into the house slamming the door behind me.

"Why do you and mom always have to fight?" Charlie surprises me by popping up in front of me.

"We weren't fighting sport. We were singing! But your moms singing kinda sounds like cats fighting. So that's what you heard honey!" I try to reassure him. I don't think he buys it but doesn't ask further.

Dad soon comes inside and Charlie rushes over to him. Dad whisks him into his arms.

"Why are there no presents under the tree?" Charlie asks dad.

"Well Santa has to come yet buddy!" I reassure him.

"Neil and mom said that Santa's not real. Believing is for babies!" Charlie shakes his head.

Of course the fucking did. Can't the kid enjoy anything?

"Well I believe in Santa and I'm not a baby." Dad tells him, hoping to save the spirit. I quickly agree "I agree and I'm not a baby either!"

"Well sport! I'm gonna start on our delicious Christmas turkey!" Dad strides into the kitchen.

"So we have to eat it? Can't we go out to eat sissy (y/n)?" Charlie whisper asks to me.

"Don't worry sport. I already called Dennys and made a reservation for 8." I encourage him.

"But I don't like Dennys!" Charlie cries.

"I know but it's the only thing that's open on Christmas sport!" I disclose to him.

*TIME SKIP BROUGHT TO YOU BY BURNT TURKEY*

Smoke billows out of the kitchen entrance. It envelopes dad and his extinguisher as he fights the fire. Charlie and I are sitting at the dining table and I give him a knowing look.

"Dad, let's just go to Dennys. I already called them so I know they're open." I call out into the smoke.

Dad steps from the smoke with ash covering him from just about head to toe.

"Yeah. I guess that's okay. I really wanted to make Christmas special for you again but looks like I failed again." He glumly agrees.

"You didn't fail anything. We are here as a family and that's all I could ever want!" I say as my eyes water, somewhat from the smoke and somewhat from the sentiment.

I pick up Charlie and we both hug dad, not caring to get dirty.

"Come on guys! Let's have a Christmas dinner at Dennys. It's an American institution!" Dad scoots is out as we put on our winter coats and scarves.

We load into the car and buckle up. Soon we are at Dennys.

"Are you with Hatsutashi?" The lady with a name tag reading (JUDY) asked us.

Dad starts to open his mouth but I cut him off.

"No actually I made a reservation earlier under Calvin." I inform her.

"Party of three," she begins pulling out the menus, " follow me" she says beckoning us to the right side of the resultant into a booth.

We sit down and dad starts to order egg nog as Charlie sits with a disgusted look on his face.

"We're out." Judy says flatly.

"I guess we will take coffee, decaf though please. And he'll take a chocolate milk please." I tell her.

"We're out."

"Plain milk's fine then!" I tell her and she walks away.

"At least we know they got hot apple pie." Dad tries to lighten the mood.

Judy shouts from somewhere behind the counter "We did".

This is just great!

#bernardfanfiction #Bernard the Elf #bernard the head elf #bernard the elf x reader #bernard the arch elf #the santa clause x reader #The Santa Clause #the santa clause two #x reader #christmas #soulmates #soulmate marks #alternate universe #au #elf #elves #reader insert #curtis the elf #lucy miller #laura miller #neil miller #my fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #charlie calvin #scott calvin #santa #gender neutral pronouns #gender neutral reader #self insert

[finalgirlfall]

Although Eleanor’s experiences at Hill House will be both bizarre and fantastic, and she will eventually become deranged enough to deliberately drive her car into a tree, what she is headed toward is not delusion but a collision with this "absolute reality." Hill House will force her to acknowledge that she will never be free, that her dreams of leaving her corrosive past and her family behind are illusions, that wherever she goes she will only find the same hell she was running away from. Escape is a mirage. This is the real horror of Hill House.

— Laura Miller's introduction to The Haunting of Hill House, Shirley Jackson

#* #literature #laura miller #shirley jackson #beldam #hill house

[bestmothertournament]

#betty lou who #the grinch #christmas #christmas movies #carol newman #the santa clause #the santa clauses #doris walker #miracle on 34th street #elizabeth james #the parents trap #eva madden #the surge #villains of valley view #female tournaments #best mother tournament #best mother figure #Kate Mccallister #home alone #laura miller #raven baxter #raven's home #disney #disney channel #sophie johnson #my parents are aliens #citv #trudy proud #the proud family

[lauramiller108]

#Laura Miller #thicc as fuck

[grandhotelabyss]

People are upset about Laura Miller's above review of The Late Americans by Brandon Taylor. She claims claims Taylor's novel is stiffly mannered and lacks the sprezzatura and joie de vivre of his internet presence on both Twitter and Substack. Professional writers and MFAs, on the other hand, argue that she should evaluate the novel in its artistic pureness, separate from the writer's online persona.

I can't weigh in on this particular case. I've never read Taylor's fiction (I mostly won't read corporate literary novels unless, like aforementioned works by Moshfegh or Lin, they escape that tiny world and get themselves read by somebody, anybody other than MFAs and NPR tote-baggers); I've only looked at his Subtack once or twice. In general, however, Miller obviously has a point. Writers can't continue on with standard MFA technique and subject matter—little lives described with suggestive precision à la Chekhov—in a world of online discourse carried out by feverishly enlarged virtual personae. It's like writing blank-verse epics in 1900; the world has changed too much to be rendered in the old style, even in support of Chekhovian values. I'm still reading London Fields, and there the narrator writes:

Writers always lag behind the contemporary formlessness. They write about an old reality, in a language that’s even older. It’s not the words: it’s the rhythm of thought. In this sense all novels are historical novels.

"Touch grass," you will say. I say the man cutting the grass believes five impossible things that originated on the internet even if he doesn't go online himself. He cannot, therefore, be adequately described in a style attentive only to his sensuous experience of phenomenal surfaces or his fleeting awareness of unconscious desires.

To write a novel as if it were a Twitter feed won't work more than once—the media are too different to really make it work except as a gimmick—but to write a novel as if it were a Substack has potential. The Substack essay qua genre has arisen more or less to observe, answer, and in some measure to wrangle Twitter; the new blogging is a meta-discourse of social media. Since social media has replaced social drama as the matrix of social life in general, an essayistic form canvassing this media and its effects can and should form the basis of new narratives. If writers will venture the online-essayistic as a formal innovation in fiction, the realist novel can regain some of its squandered authority by itself becoming the holistic meta-discourse of social media.

#literary criticism #literature #creative writing #brandon taylor #laura miller

[tomorrowusa]

The particular flavor of dad-ish 4chan trollery that Musk indulges in, while nasty, also always seems a bit sad, redolent of men going nowhere, feeling powerless, raging at a screen in their basement and lashing out at their perceived foes because at least the rise they get out of others makes them feel like they exist.    [ ... ]   The most embarrassing aspect of Musk’s takeover is how utterly dependent he is on the “woke virus” he’s constantly decrying. As with most trolls, the point of his vapidly provocative tweets is to offend and alarm his ideological enemies, whose outrage only serves to boost his signal to the great big world beyond Twitter. In this, he is very much like Donald Trump, and the smartest thing journalists can do—for their own sanity and even for his—is deprive him of that audience by walking out.

Laura Miller at Slate on Elon Musk’s self-indulgent trollery which is a pathetic attempt to call attention to himself.

Ms. Miller’s phrase “vapidly provocative“ is an excellent way to describe Elon Musk.

The best thing to do is to say goodbye to Twitter and leave Musk with a $44 billion hole in his pocket.

#elon musk #twitter #troll #narcisssism #vapidly provocative #leave twitter #find an alternative to twitter #social media #laura miller

[kgdrendel]

Narnia, and the Danger of Becoming an Accidental Christian

"I don't think I ever really feel in danger of accidentally believing... or stumbling into it." Laura Miller

I’m listening to the Unbelievable? podcast replay of the discussion with Holly Ordway & Laura Miller: A convert and skeptic in Narnia. As always, I find the conversation on the Unbelievable! podcast intriguing and thought provoking, as the podcast usually engages people on opposite ends of the thought spectrum. Holly Ordway and Laura Miller had similar experiences in reading the Chronicles of…

View On WordPress

#atheism #belief in god #Chronicles of Narnia #CS Lewis #Holly Ordway #Laura Miller #Surprised by Joy #Unbelievable!

[berattelse]

[...] The literary effect we call horror turns on the dissolution of boundaries, between the living and the dead, of course, but also, at the crudest level, between the outside of the body and everything that ought to stay inside. [...]

Miller, Laura. Introduction to The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson. Penguin Books, 2013.

#laura miller #shirley jackson #the haunting of hill house #on horror #excerpts #prose #*

[lantern-hill]

Susanna Clarke's Fantasy World of Interiors

#daily read #july 2022 #the new yorker #laura miller

[neils-weenie-whistle]

Laura Miller Icons

The Santa Clause 2 (2002)

*Feel free to use, no credit is needed

#the santa clause icons #the santa clause 2 #laura miller #laura miller icons #disney icons

[theblackestofsuns]

Seth’s illustration of James Patterson for Laura Miller’s review of Patterson’s autobiography in this week’s New Yorker magazine.

#Seth #Great Illustration #James Patterson #Laura Miller #The New Yorker Magazine

[kringletheelf04]

Christmas sucks and dad killed Santa (chapter 2)

Finally we were home after a mediocre dinner at Dennys. I drag my feet as I enter the threshold of the house. I'm the last to enter and the last to get my pajamas on. I may be an adult but I still wear onesies. My pjs of choice are a pink rabbit with a white tail. It resembles the one off of a Christmas story. It was mom's favorite movie of all time so I wear it Christmas Eve each year to honor her memory.

I lean into the doorway of Charlie's bedroom. Dads reading the night before Christmas and Charlie has just about a million questions.

"When out on the lawn, there arose such a clatter, l sprang from my bed to see what was the matter away to the window I flew like a flash.With a miniature sleigh and St. Nick and Prancer and Dancer and to all a good night." Dad recites the book, practically from memory, as he had since I was Charlie's age.

"What's that?" Charlie questions our dad.

"What's what?" Dad asks, clearly confused.

"A rose schuck ladder!" Charlie says with wide eyes.

"It's not a ladder. He said, 'arose such a clatter.' It means, eh, 'came a big noise.'" I clarify.

"What?" Charlie scrunches up his face still confused.

"Charlie, ‘arose’ is a word that means 'it came’, and 'clatter’ is a big noise." I reiterate.

"Yes and now it's time to go to bed" dad agrees as he tucks Charlie into his bed.

He turns to me and takes in my pajamas and holds back a snicker.

"Gotta problem with my duds old man?" I joke at him.

Charlie giggles and snuggles in deeper into the covers.

"No problem at all, squirt. Just makes me think is all." Dad replies with a small, sad smile. Tears are brimming in his eyes that threaten to spill.

"Come on, let's get to bed! If we want Santa to come we need to be asleep!" I usher dad out and into his room and walk to mine.

Soon I hear a gentle knock on my door just as I'm ready to snuggle in.

"Sissy (y/n) can I sleep in her with you? Dads snores too loud and I can hear it through the wall!" Charlie practically wails.

I know he just wants to make sure I'm ok but I pretend to buy it nonetheless.

"Come on sport! Let's snuggle and fall asleep to some nice music." I say swooping him into my arms and sitting us onto my queen size bed. Too tall for him to reach on his own without a stool. I put on some Mozart and we drift away.

(TIME SKIP BROUGHT TO YOU BY RED RYDER BB GUNS! YOU'LL SHOOT YOUR EYE OUT KID!)

I am abruptly woken by Charlie shaking me. This is not what I signed up for when I said he could sleep with me.

"(Y/n)! (Y/n)! I heard a clatter!" Charlie yells.

I slowly open my eyes and ask "What? Charlie, what are you talking about?

"You know! From the story! It came a big noise. It's coming from outside"

I start to say it might be the wind until I hear a loud noise too. Kinda like a ka-thump. The the sound of boots on the roof. I jump out of bed taking Charlie with me. I run as fast as I can to dads room.

I practically take the door off its hinges. My heart is pounding out my chest.

"Dad you gotta get up now! Someone's on the roof!" I say setting Charlie down rushing to his bedside.

"What (Y/n)? Someone on the roof? That's impossible. You probably dreamt it. Go back to sleep." Dad begins but gets cut of by more footsteps. Now he's wide awake.

"I guess it wasn't a dream dad," I huff at him

"Now is not the time for the sass (Y/n), someone's on our roof. Come on we'll go outside. Put on your shoes and coat quickly!" He says while pulling on some socks while quickly hobbling to his bedroom door and down the stairs.

I pick up Charlie again because I know I'll be faster carrying him than waiting for him at the bottom of the flight of stairs.

Throwing on a coat, boots and a winter hat onto both of us with Charlie still holding his blanket.

I rush out after dad and Charlie follow suit.

Dad yells something I can't make out to the person on our roof. Suddenly they slip and plummet onto the lawn as I quickly shield Charlie from the sight.

"Oh my gosh! You killed him!" I yell running through the slushy snow to where the man lay. However, all that was there was his clothes.

"You got him!" Charlie cries out, running, and nearly tripping to get to me.

"I did not! He's gotta be here somewhere! Let's check for some Id to see who this poor shmuck was." Dad argues now riddling through the pockets of the red coat.

"That almost looks like-" I start

"Look (Y/n)! Reindeer!" Charlie interrupts me pointing to the roof.

Lo and behold eight reindeer and a sleigh are parked on our roof.

"(Y/n) come here! I found something!" Dad calls after me.

I approach him and take a small business card from his gloved hand.

"lf something should happen to me, put on my suit. The reindeer will know what to do. What does that mean?" I read from the card and inquire to dad.

He shrugs and Charlie comes to us. "That means you gotta put it on dad!"

"No we are not going anywhere!" Dad asserts poorly.

"We never do what I want to," Charlie says, his eyes watering.

I hug him from behind and glare at dad .

"Look! The rose schuck ladder! Like from the poem!" Charlie beams at both of us.

"I'm going to call the police, please watch your brother for a minute (y/n)." Dad pleads and scurries off to get his phone.

Before I can even blink Charlie is now on the roof trying to touch a reindeer. I follow after him in a hurry.

"Charlie! (Y/n)! Get down from there! I thought you were watching him!" Dad yells at me. It's a miracle the neighbors haven't woken up.

"Dad, it's amazing! Come up here!" I yell down at him.

He runs to the ladder and climbs up, suit in hand.

"You need to get away from ghost things! They could have key lime disease!" Dad panics as he walks carefully towards Charlie. "Easy Rudolph" dad says to the reindeer.

As clear as day the reindeer says "I'm not Rudolph." I look to my dad to see if he also heard but he's just looking at its nametag.

"It's Santa's sleigh!" Charlie jovially says while climbing into it.

"There's no such thing as Santa's sleigh" dad scoffs.

"Sure there is. You said you believed in Santa, right dad" I nudge him.

"I did" he questions then covers his tracks with "I do!"

Dad climbs into the sleigh and I follow him. The seats are much softer than they look.

"Hey dad look! A hat!" I say pulling a plush Christmas hat from in between the cushions. I gently place it on my head after inspecting for lice. It's warm and cozy. The ear flaps are extra padded with faux fur.

"Oh great you found a bug infested hat! Oh how joyous! Let's get out now please" dad practically pleads with Charlie.

"No!" Charlie shakes his head making his hair get in his eyes.

"Come on Charlie! Let's go!" Dad pushes.

Suddenly the reindeer take off. I guess I'm in for one helluva ride tonight!

#Bernard the Elf #bernard the head elf #bernard the arch elf #bernard the elf x reader #bernard #scott calvin #charlie calvin #lucy miller #neil miller #laura miller #soulmates #soulmates au #x reader #christmas #christmas lights #snow #bernard fanfiction #the santa clause x reader #The Santa Clause the santa clause two #au #alternate universe #soulmate marks #self indulgence babey #self indulgence at its finest #self insert #self indulgence time #elf #elves #reader insert #gender neutral pronouns

[finalgirlfall]

The literary effect we call horror turns on the dissolution of boundaries, between the living and the dead, of course, but also, at the crudest level, between the outside of the body and everything that ought to stay inside. In the psychological ghost story, the dissolving boundary is the one between the mind and the exterior world. During the third major manifestation at Hill House, as Eleanor's resistance begins to buckle, she thinks, "how can these others hear the noise when it is coming from inside my head?"

— Laura Miller's introduction to The Haunting of Hill House, Shirley Jackson

#* #literature #laura miller #shirley jackson #beldam #ouagh.

[iishtar]

Confession trumps imagination.

Laura Miller, Two Paths for the Novelist

#laura miller #two paths for the novelist #slate #zadie smith #writing #fiction #books