Let Me Tell You a Story #19: Life Is Strange

I had an idea for a post about AUs again this morning, but I failed to write it before launching into the final episode of Life Is Strange.  Oops!  I’ll try again tomorrow.

So I. Am. Reeling.

I’m not going to be useful to anyone for a while.  I’ve been crying for most of the last hour, and turning over in my mind how fucking brilliant the narrative is, both on its own, as a function of the game play, and as quite possibly the best time-travel-based anything I’ve ever encountered.  (I still love you, Stargate SG-1.  “Window of Opportunity” is still amazing, but for different reasons.)

(On that note, time travel is so easy to get wrong, the playing field is littered with the bodies of those who failed.  But LIS gets is so very, very right.  No obvious loopholes here, guys, this story is tightly woven and expertly crafted.)

I wish I could talk more about my approval, astonishment, and holy-hell-I-didn’t-know-my-feels-could-take-this-much-abuse, but that would take us deep into Spoiler Land, which is something I try never to do.  I mean, the episode only came out today, so that’s definitely too soon to start talking about how aliens landed and kidnapped everyone for scientific study, right?  (/wink)

The only solution to this level of emotional wretchedness (for me) is to dive into something totally different, which is why I was thrilled to sit down with my chamomile-mint tea, catch up on a little Tumblr, and see the release announcement of a new story collection which includes pieces by two of my favorite erotic-romance authors, which of course I promptly bought.

(I haven’t done much with book reviews and recommendations, because to some extent I feel like I’m in an echo chamber when I do.  But plugging independent authors is something I want to happen to me when I’m one of them, soon, so I should really do more of it myself, right?  Be the change you want to see, put your money where your mouth is, and so on.  Well, this is me doing that, a little.  I have plans to write up a post on erotic romance anyway, so consider this a preview.  Check them out, they’re completely worth your time.)

Anyway, my eyes are red, my head is achy, and maybe I’ve just written four hundred words of disjointed emotional nonsense, but on the inside, I’m still crying a little for Max and Chloe and my roller-coaster ride through the trials and tribulations of Arcadia Bay.

I only hope someday I have the ability to tell a story that gripping.

Now I’m going to go read and get totally hooked on something else.

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