Welcome to a House of Improbabilities

"This is not for you." 

- House of Leaves by Zampano, or Johnny Truant, or mayebe Mark Z. Danielewski

Some have called it the most horrifying book ever written; others have called it the most boring. My sibling called it weird. These are all words that describe Danielewski's House of Leaves - a book I decided to challenge myself to read last year. 

My book's cover is ripped.

I began reading it at the end of October and finished just before ringing in 2026. I read in spurts. Sometimes the book read like one of the dryer college papers my professors wanted me to tear apart and analyze. At other times, the book sucked me in to the point I lost track of time. The story isn't linear and neither is the book's layout. I was constantly flipping back and forth from the "main" story to different appendixes, exhibits that aren't actually there, and footnotes upon footnotes upon footnotes. I would have to turn the book sideways and upside-down to read the text. Sometimes the text took up a square inch of a page, or there would be one sentence, or a dot, or music notes, or brail. Foreign languages were sometimes not even translated.

The story follows the Navidson family, or maybe it follows Johnny Truant as he tries to decipher the dissertation a dead guy named Zampano, left scattered around his apartment. Really, I think the Editors are the real protagonists. They jump in when things become really confusing, confirming for the reader that things really are that confusing. 

Honestly, if you ignore the footnotes, the story is about the Navidson family moving into a house that starts to grow on the inside while remaining the same size on the outside. The patriarch, called Navy throughout the story, is a photojournalist haunted by a photo he took in Africa. This photo is based on the real photo The Vulture and the Little Girl taken by Kevin Carter. Navy decides he needs to document the move and sets up cameras everywhere.

It almost sounds like the start of a found footage movie. Oh, that's because in the universe of the text, it is a found footage movie - one that the Zampano guy is writing this dissertation is obsessed with. This obsession is then transferred to Johnny Truant who is telling us his life story and mental breakdown. However, the found footage film may not even exist in the world Truant inhabits. It definitely doesn't exist in ours.

The Navidsons quickly discover that the house is growing, but only on the inside. Random hallways, pitch black hallways, appear and stretch reality. Navy begins to explore these hallways with his twin brother and a professor friend from the University of Virginia (the house is near Williamsburg, VA) - all with a trusty camera. 

A few more people join the exploration and what follows is pandemonium. There's a Minotaur monster walking the growing hallways and madness turns to quickly turns to murder. The chapters that provide a scientific explanation were mysteriously destroyed by a bottle of ink spilt by Truant. The Editors apologize for this loss of text. There's also a huge chunk of philosophy that was destroyed by the original writer Zampano.

The book is immersive from page one to the back of the book's summary. Even the copyright page is full of metacommentary and fourth wall breaks and a note on the edition I read. House is always in blue and Minotaur is always red. There is one place where the color purple is used.

I didn't really like Johnny Truant...or any part where he randomly jumped in. I didn't like any of his interjections, except for one. I enjoyed reading his mother's letters while she was locked in an asylum. I didn't need to read his parts of the story, but I did. 

I also didn't find House of Leaves horrifying in the slightest. There was some dread and paranoia, but nothing horrifying. I agree with my sibling, it was weird.

I bought my first house this year and have been slowly unpacking and settling in. My cat passed away in the summer and I just lost an aunt that I am was very close to. I'm trying not to lose myself in all the news being reported on - especially in Minnesota. None of this is relevant to the above. However, it is an example of the writing style in House of Leaves. 

I haven't found any parts of my house that are growing, no dark hallways I can't explain, and no monsters growling in my walls. I can occasionally hear my neighbors and my pipes rattle. There's no where for someone to easily hide in my house.

Why would anyone need to hide in my house?

I can think of a few reasons. I've read a lot of books and seen enough movies to wish I had a hidden room. House of Leaves was not one of those books.

We had our first major snow storm of the season and year. I don't own a proper snow shovel, but I was able to get a regular shovel from Ace Hardware (they were out of snow shovels and salt). With the regular shovel and a broom, I was able to clear the steps and sidewalk. Then more snow came and erased all my work - like how the growing hallways in the Navidson house suddenly vanished. 

I wonder if this book - that is slowly going insane and driving me insane along with it - punched trough its universe and ended up pulling the Navidson story from a third, separate universe. The first universe being the one we inhabit. Truant never found the house in his universe. I doubt it exists in this one. 

I still want to know how this book actually got published. There's no way it would be in our modern publishing climate. 

Do I recommend this book? Sure, if you want a challenge, but it is weird and tragic...and possibly boring in places. Johnny Truant is awful and his parts could be skipped. Maybe this book really wasn't for me, but I did find it compelling. 

There is a lot going on in my life. There's a lot of stress and sadness. Reading a book like House of Leaves took me out of this universe for a little while and let me occupy a different one.

I still don't like Johnny Truant.

Until the next post. 

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Welcome to a New House

 Just to be that Millennial, but “I did a think!”

To solidify my latest “adult” milestone and movement into early middle life, I bought a house. And again, like any good Millennial, the only reason I could remotely do this is due to personal tragedy.

It’s not quite as cute as this, but close.

About a year and a half ago, I lost one of my parents. It’s been a long journey and a lot of emotions since they passed. It also maybe why I haven’t been writing my blog as much (this should change in the coming week, months, and years).

Buying a house is a lot.

There are so many things to consider: price, age of the house, size, price, neighborhood, HOA fees (they are inescapable in Virginia), distance from friends and favorite hiking spots, price, and when the last time to roof had been replaced. 

And when you find the “perfect” house, you put a bid on it, get into a bidding war, and lose - multiple times.

It was my sibling who picked out the house I eventually won the bidding war on. It didn’t have everything I wanted, but it had enough that I knew I would be happy. And more importantly, my cat loves it.

It also needs some work. For a house built in the 80s, the structure is still good and the roof last replaced within ten years (this is important for insurance reasons), but there are some little things that I need to update. The windows are original to the house and very difficult to open, the washer needs to be cleaned all the time, and I can’t stand the door going from the bathroom into the big room. Who thought it was a good idea to put a door there?

And little things I need to get rid of…like ants. They’re all over my kitchen. I’ve had ant issues before, but this is the first time it’s actually my problem (and money) to solve. Pray for my sanity.

Additionally, I did have an inspection (it was a quick turn around part of the negotiations - probably because it was two days before Christmas) and the things noted were fixed (except for the washer, but that’s a later problem). Yet I still needed to go out and buy a new dishwasher as soon as I tried using the one currently residing in my kitchen. 

So many soap subs.

The deck needs to be looked at, though it’s safe enough to go out on. I want new windows sooner rather than later. At least I think the washing machine can wait a bit.

I had family over this weekend to help me unpack. For the most part the first floor of the house is box free and organized. The second floor at least is in a state of organized chaos. The basement, though, is still meters deep in boxes.

They also kept reminding me to get rid of stuff. It’s a little tough to do. Some of this stuff was inherited from my parent. I got rid of a ton of stuff last year cleaning out their place and now I have to really decide what stays and what goes. It’s emotionally exhausting.

So, that’s where I’ve been. 

I bought a house. It’s not very big, but it’s mine.

Now to get rid of those ants.

Until next week.

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Welcome to your New Home

First you have to find it...

First I would like to give a shout out to Shark Week. Once again I am afraid to go into the Ocean. Beware the awesome power of the deep!

Finding a place to live was a lot harder than I had thought it was going to be. I had thought that I would search on the internet, go to the apartment place and (WHAM!) I’d be living on my own. This was the first reality check. Not only did I discover that cheap places to rent in the areas that I wanted to live were virtually non-existent, but if I did find something in my price range, it was already occupied. I also discovered that income requirements are another hurdle.

All of the places (except the first that did not have any free apartments in a normal price range) had income requirements. I also came to dread the term luxury in front of apartment ads. Honestly I don’t think luxury apartments are worth it if there isn’t any affordable housing anywhere else. Heck I’m still trying to figure out where poor people live in Fairfax County.

My mom and I went back home without any progress. I at first was convinced I would be living out of a cardboard box (or driving over an hour and a half commute to work). A few frustrated tears later led back to the internet. I was hoping to find a room for rent or a roommate. I found plenty of people looking for roommates, but I wasn’t sure how much I’d like kids, three cats (I’m allergic) or 18 year old French guys. There were a lot of 18 year old French guys looking for roommates. I finally found, with a good bit of help from my mom, a guy renting his basement with all utilities included. A phone call later and we had an appointment in two days to go check it out.

We also discovered that about twenty miles from where I was going to work was a small town with apartments with a rent that was at least reasonable. My mom started sorting through apartments while I just kind of nodded my head and agreed with whatever she said.

The next “new home hunt” started in the further away town very early in the morning. The first few places I looked at were nice. Mom helped me to identify what was lacking and what was a plus in some of the different places we looked at. One of the coolest things we discovered was that some apartments offer move in deals. If you move in by a certain date they cut the rent, wave fees for the pool or even give you a month free of rent (but check to see if it’s a 12 or 13 month lease).

After another long day of looking at apartments and still having an interview for a basement to rent, I found a really cute place that was in my price range. I decided to cancel the interview and put in an application for this place. There was also a lot of paper work required on my end. They are very serious about not doing illegal activates and knowing where the money for the rent is coming from.

About a month later I was ready to move in. I managed to bribe two of my friends, along with my dad, to help me to move all of my worldly possession to the new apartment. When we finally got everything in, just as it was starting to thunderstorm, I discovered that my apartment was a lot bigger than I had thought it was and that I did not have as much stuff as I thought I had. Don’t get me wrong, I have more stuff than I know what to do with sometimes, but I still don’t have a couch or a coffee table. For that matter my dining room is currently folding chairs and a card table. I guess I never realized how much furniture makes a home. My dad had to suggest the card table and folding chairs before I realized that I even needed dining room furniture.

After a few weeks, and my book case being rebuilt, I had finally managed to make my apartment seem more like a home. I especially love having a dishwasher. I didn’t have a dishwasher in college and I now realize how much I love them. I like having my own home. Now I just have to keep it clean.