After 87-ish days, I finally finished Bram Stoker's epic Gothic horror novel, Dracula. A few things:
- It's a great novel, and I wish I liked it more.
- The end part drags a little.
- Francis Ford Coppola's film adaptation, despite its name, differs from the source material significantly.
- In Forgetting Sarah Marshall, the main character Peter is writing a Dracula musical, and it seems that he hasn't read the novel, either.
- The frustration I get from these creative liberties is nothing compared to the frustration I get from the creative liberties people take on the Frankenstein monster, so I don't mind.
What to do next:
- Congratulate myself for having finally read the novel, after thinking about reading it for years. (I saw the ballet adaptation already almost two years ago.)
- Put the book away and think about something more cheerful for a change.
- Maybe, maybe, consider watching some movie adaptation.
- Get back to work, it's already Wednesday, what are you doing, why aren't you working, you still have three books to publish, you lazy bastard.
