Guillermo del Toro’s Frankenstein: Part 3 – Friends and Fathers

Posted on June 12, 2026 by A. Elizabeth West

WARNING! SPOILERS BELOW FOR DEL TORO’S FRANKENSTEIN!

Just go watch it on Netflix already!

This is the last post I’ll make about this movie, unless I think of something else I want to talk about. It’s a bit long, sorry. But also not sorry. Is this a special interest for me? Considering I’ve seen it enough times to know all the lines by heart and have given it enough thought to write three blog posts, maybe! :)

Adam, a man with a terribly scarred face and long hair, is in distress because his friend has just died. He says "Friend," and looks down in sorrow. — The feels. ALL the feels.

Image: Netflix

My coworker came over a while ago and watched it, since he doesn’t have Netflix. (He also made me watch Matilda, which I had never seen. I loved it.) The old man’s death got him good, and rightly so—it’s a heart-wrenching scene. A thought occurred to me later that I wanted to explore, but we haven’t had time to talk about it, so I’m sharing it with you.

Note: This discussion touches primarily on the grandfather in the movie. del Toro did not give him a name; the only family members referred to by name are the child, Anna Maria, and her mother, whose name seems to be Alma. In Mary Shelley’s novel, he’s called De Lacey, so that’s what I’ll call him here.

Question: If De Lacey, alone in the cottage for the winter, could see, would he have accepted Adam anyway?

My answer: Yes, absolutely.

After Adam (I am NOT calling him The Creature anymore) finds shelter in the mill, he secretly watches the family through the cracks in the wall. He sees them expressing their love for each other. Throughout the film, we see characters touching someone’s face or head to indicate affection for that person as well as speaking a truth—for example, when Elizabeth gently tells an amorous Victor, “Believing something does not make it true,” she touches his cheek.

Victor is looking earnestly at Elizabeth. We are standing behind her and can only see her red hair, but her hand is on his cheek. — I think she went there intending to let him down easy and he made it weird.

Image: Netflix

Similarly, when William is dying, he puts his hand on Victor’s face when he says, basically, “Bro, this is all your fault.”

Victor's brother William is at left, dying, as Victor looks at his brother in anguish. William's hand is on Victor's cheek.

Image: Netflix

Adam sees De Lacey pat his granddaughter’s head and deduces that pats or touches on the head convey sincere feelings for someone. Remember this, because it comes back full circle later.

He learns to speak by listening to them talk to each other. He tells Victor and Anderson, “These people possessed a sound—used it to tell each other about feelings and ideas. They called them words.” This is how babies pick up language, and it makes sense, since his newly animated brain is redrawing synapses. If Victor had kept him upstairs and talked to him often instead of ignoring him in the basement, it might have happened sooner.

He also learns to read when De Lacey is teaching Anna Maria. In the novel, Mary Shelley rather clumsily has Adam acquire language by listening to Felix (the son) teach his girlfriend, a runaway Arabian noblewoman, how to speak theirs (I’m not making this up, I swear). Later, Adam conveniently finds a box of books in the woods and reads them.

A brief aside on language:

The De Lacey family in the novel, as well as the Frankenstein family, speak French, so this is the language Book Adam learns. Book Victor, raised near Geneva where both German and French are official languages, has been classically educated (likely in German) and would have learned other tongues academically, including Latin, Greek, and English.

Movie Victor goes to medical school and teaches in Edinburgh (Scotland) and would speak English there. In modern-day Europe, many countries require that English be taught in schools (it’s the international language of business), and 59% of the EU population speaks at least two languages. So people from different areas being able to talk to each other is a thing that happens.

Movies made by Hollywood studios are usually in English because it is the primary language in the U.S. Foreignness is implied by giving everybody speaking English a British accent regardless of where they’re located. Frankenstein follows this practice, though the Horisont’s sailors all speak Danish with subtitles.

Judging by their location, and the cards De Lacey holds up for Anna Maria, Adam is learning in German—Vaduz, where Victor says the fictional lake and tower are located (“across the Channel”—likely meaning the English Channel), is in Lichtenstein. The Deutsche word for “boy” is junge, and the boy card has a J on it. Auge is “eye,” and the card shows an A along with the illustration.

In addition to updating the time period, del Toro kept the French connection with Victor’s mother Claire in his film adaptation. He improves on Adam’s language acquisition by mashing up the listening and the box of books into the same segment. When you adapt a work for the screen, you often must consolidate to save time. I also think this makes a lot more sense, and if Mary Shelley could see this movie, I feel like she might slap her forehead and say, “I wish I’d thought of that!”

Did you notice that the alphabet cards have small divots in the edge? De Lacey touches them to know which one he has before he asks, “What is this?” The movie is packed with these great details.

The old man with long white hair and beard holds up a round card. The edge of the card has little bites taken out of it. A blue arrow points to the bites.

Image: Netflix

Back to the discussion. De Lacey eventually figures out that someone is living in the mill gears. When Alma asks, “Who could have done this?” at the corral gate, he mutters, “The Spirit of the Forest, eh?” He obviously has figured out that whoever is helping them is the same person who is hiding in there.

I believe that his loss of sight was recent. He tells Alma and the young redheaded hunter (I’ll call him Felix), who seems to be Alma’s husband and Anna Maria’s father, that he stays alone in their cottage to pray every winter and will continue to do so. But De Lacey knows something they don’t — he’s not alone.

Now, here’s why I think he would have accepted Adam even if he could see.

When Adam comes to him, he is still wearing bandages. De Lacey can feel them along with the ridges of the scars on his face, and he rightfully understands that this man has been hurt. He knows the coat Adam wears is a soldier’s coat by the shape of the collar and cuffs and probably the texture of the fabric.

And Adam never answers his question, “Were you injured in battle?” because he doesn’t have an answer. In a country where numerous skirmishes have occurred, so many and so recent that the dead are still lying about moldering in the woods, De Lacey could assume that was the case.

Blind or not, he would come to the logical conclusion that a terribly wounded soldier suffering from memory loss has hidden in their mill and is helping them out in exchange for shelter. De Lacey was trying to atone for his own misdeeds, and so he would embrace the chance to help this poor unfortunate no matter how fearsome his appearance. He might have still asked Adam to read to him, as he was pretty advanced in years and presbyopia starts to set in around your forties or so.

And Adam is actually very non-threatening. He’s tentative and frightened. I love that when he goes in for a hug, De Lacey completely understands and just rolls with it.

The old man has his hand on Adam's head. Adam leans into him for a hug and he puts his arms around him and holds him. And now I'm gonna cry! — Poor baby NEEDED that hug!

Image: Netflix

I’m quite sure they had many discussions on numerous topics both from the books and in general—you will never convince me that Adam, whose first book ever was the Christian Bible, would fail to ask what “beget” means. So he probably learned some things about life, as well as helping De Lacey take care of himself. We don’t see them sharing meals, but I think it’s fair to assume that Alma left his food in some state of easily managed preparation.

In heartbreaking irony, I think if De Lacey had been sighted, he might not have died, because I’m convinced he didn’t close the door all the way and couldn’t see that it had swung open, thus allowing the wolves to come in.

And Adam might not have been slaughtered when Felix and the other two hunters came back, because De Lacey would have been alive and could have said, “No, no, my children! This is the Spirit of the Forest. Do not harm him, for he is my friend. He has been a great help to me this winter, and to our family.”

This is the stand-in for an angry mob. See, del Toro didn’t leave it out.

A wounded Adam stands outside under a cloudy sky near the gatehouse beyond the old man's cottage. Two hunters are advancing toward him, guns raised. — I HATE this part. 😭😭😭

Image: Netflix

I don’t think the family would have allowed Adam to stay if the grandfather had been alive, but at least he could have left them without all the trauma. But dramatically, this outcome, however much it would have soothed our broken hearts, isn’t strong enough to fuel his resentment at Victor for cheating him of Death, his only escape from a never-ending existence of pain, rejection, and loss. As sad as it was, del Toro chose to emphasize the theme of loneliness and alienation from the book; giving Adam immortality was a masterful twist on it.

I told you I’d get back to the face touching. When De Lacey is dying after the wolf attack, he lays his hand on Adam’s face and says, sounding surprised, “You came back.” Of course Adam came back; this was his friend, the one person besides Elizabeth who actually treated him like a person and not a thing. He still accepts him even after being told the truth about Adam’s origin. And we know it’s true because of the touch.

At the end, when Victor says, “Forgive me, my son,” I think Adam knew he was sincere due to his observation of touch as affection. Remember earlier in the film when baby Adam cuts his hand on the razor? Victor yells at him, “Don’t touch me! Don’t ever touch me!”

After he hears Adam’s tale, he genuinely regrets his actions. How do we know? He reaches for Adam’s hand, and then he touches his head. You can see the realization on Adam’s face; it’s all he ever wanted from his father. Jacob Elordi and Oscar Isaac both played it perfectly.

Victor at left places his hand on Adam's forehead while asking his forgiveness. At his touch, Adam closes his eyes and looks as if he is about to cry, as I always do when I watch this scene! — This killed me. I’m dead. You’re talking to a ghost.

Image: Netflix

It was not death Victor sought to conquer; it was grief.

BOOK 3:

I’ve been writing again, but it’s fanfic. The problem wasn’t my story but creative burnout. I wasn’t able to produce anything, so a hiatus seemed wise. I don’t consider the fanfic time wasted, because 1) it’s put me back in the writing habit, and 2) there is a future idea percolating inside it that might be worth exploring. I’m almost done with the fanfic, so soon I’ll be back in Ilarrya.

Guillermo del Toro’s Frankenstein: Part 2 – Yes, It’s Love, but Not How You Think

Posted on December 5, 2025 by A. Elizabeth West

WARNING!!!! THIS POST CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR FRANKENSTEIN. PROCEED AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!

Last night, a group of my colleagues and I went out, and one of them had seen Frankenstein, which meant I could wax poetic about it without spoiling. I mentioned something I alluded to in my last post, that Elizabeth’s interactions with The Creature were not romantic, but motherly. My coworker asked me to explain.

I’m going to double down on this, so stay with me. This post is an expanded version of my argument.

First, in Mary Shelley’s book, Victor and Elizabeth are the couple. William is just a child, and baby brother Ernest isn’t even in the movie at all. Elizabeth Lavenza is an Italian orphan Caroline Frankenstein plucks like a puppy from a foster home and raises with the children. Victor is basically marrying his non-related stepsister, which is somewhat less incestuous than what other noble families were doing. Making William an adult with an unrelated fiancé allows del Toro to introduce Harlander, who is so much fun we don’t care that he wasn’t in the novel.

Image: via Entertainment Weekly – Ken Woroner/Netflix

Their flirtation in the film alludes to their relationship in the book. If it had been preserved in the film, Elizabeth would have been The Creature’s de facto stepmother. Watching them play with each other, you get the impression that if she weren’t already taken, Elizabeth might very well decide to accept Victor – but it would be on her own terms.

Second, del Toro’s dual casting of Mia Goth as Claire Frankenstein, Victor’s mother, and Elizabeth Harlander, is significant. I can’t remember in which article I read it, but del Toro said straight out that some men marry their mothers. Victor certainly has a fixation on his.

del Toro also uses color in his films very deliberately. The dynamics are reflected in Kate Hawley’s beautiful costume designs. Claire’s clothing is all red. Victor wears red too (gloves, a scarf, a coat). Elizabeth’s primary color is green and/or teal, but around her neck is an ever-present rosary. What color is it? Red. When she visits Victor and sees the dissection, she is wearing red, and for a moment . . . but no, sorry Victor, you weren’t the chosen one.

You want to be, but believing something doesn’t make it true.

Image: Netflix

Elizabeth’s first glimpse of The Creature is shocking. She sees a man in chains, with terrible wounds all over his body. He’s clearly different from anyone she’s ever beheld. She responds to his vulnerability and pain—her first words to him are, “Who hurt you?”

When she returns shortly with William and Victor, it’s clear that Victor is not taking care of this child. He calls him “it” and says the chains are for his own protection and The Creature’s, because “He doesn’t know any better.” Just like a baby.

And he is, at first—scared of the sun, grabbing the razor like a curious baby, rattling the chains Victor puts on him like it’s a game, and playing with the water in the basement sluice like a baby in the bath. Victor tells Anderson, “Everything was new to him.”

On her third visit, alone this time, Elizabeth relates to him as though he’s a small child. He gives her a leaf, and she responds, “A leaf? For me? Thank you!” Her tone is that of a mother thanking a three-year-old for giving her a flower. She continues in that tone when teaching him her name.

Then, when she goes upstairs, Victor is there, lounging with his robe half open . . . looking all sensual . . . what was I saying again? Oh right!

Victor may be an ass, but broody Oscar Isaac is HOT AF.

Image: Netflix

Victor is oriented to the flesh. His research centers around the body, and he’s very grounded in sensuality and his attraction for Elizabeth. Of course the first thing this man would think is that Elizabeth is attracted to The Creature. It’s pure projection on his part. And he’s jealous. She’s not tiptoeing around the tower in a nightie to visit him.

Elizabeth’s nature is highly spiritual – she’s very pious despite her interest in science. The dissection reminds her of a “martyrdom painting,” i.e., religious art, and she sees God in the symmetrical structure of the spinal column. She just came out of a convent to marry William. Young Catholic women were often sent to convents to strengthen their religious education (in England, where Mary Shelley was born, Catholic schools were not legal at certain points in history), and they would someday be guiding their children in the faith. The families paid the convents for boarding them, which helped keep them afloat.

When Victor accuses her of basically wanting to bang his boy, she deflects this very emphatically. She talks about purity of soul, that God may have breathed directly into the flesh Victor animated, etc. During the updated period in which del Toro set the film, twenty years into Queen Victoria’s reign, children were still seen as exploitable resources. It wasn’t until later that childhood began to be revered, and they gained status as people in their own right. Elizabeth, who has already expressed progressive views, is ahead of her time in seeing the innocence and purity of this unusual child.

The Creature looks very newborn and angelic in their previous scene as well – he’s bald, his skin is pale and glowing, and his expression is one of wonder and curiosity. If Elizabeth had lived and had children with William, I think she would have viewed her babies the same way.

It is a love story, but it’s the love of a mother.

Image: Netflix

At her death, Elizabeth tells The Creature (I hate calling him that; his name would be Adam if Victor had even bothered) she realizes that she didn’t belong in the world. She was looking for something more elevated, and she found it with him. Not as a lover, but as pureness of soul, something finer than the earthly. Their connection hinges on seeing that in each other—he is untouched by the world, and to him, she’s just love. She’s the only person who ever treats him kindly until he meets the blind grandfather. It’s selfless like the love of his only friend, a maternal, caring love, and like a mother, she literally gives her life to protect him.

del Toro has been obsessed with this story for decades. There are references throughout the film to both the book and other adaptations. Victor and Elizabeth being a couple (novel) and the dual roles (Elsa Lanchester played Mary Shelley in The Bride of Frankenstein as well as the female creature), The Creature’s long stringy hair (novel) and his oversized, shapeless coat (Charles Ogle as The Creature in Thomas Edison’s 1910 silent film—watch it here), and too many others to mention. And good for you if you spotted that the sleeves of Elizabeth’s wedding dress look like the bandages on Elsa Lanchester’s arms in Bride. A nod is not an interpretation, however, and love is not confined to the romantic sphere.

If you want to read the book, it’s in the public domain. You can download it for free at Project Gutenberg here: Frankenstein by Mary Wollstonecraft (Godwin) Shelley

Guillermo del Toro’s Frankenstein: The Disabled Child

Posted on November 16, 2025 by A. Elizabeth West

**WARNING!!!! THIS POST CONTAINS MASSIVE SPOILERS FOR FRANKENSTEIN. DO NOT READ UNTIL YOU HAVE SEEN THE MOVIE!**

Poster for Guillermo del Toro's 2025 film Frankenstein, a Netflix film, showing a montage of the main characters. At the bottom it says "In select cinemas October, Netflix."

Poster designed by Empire Design

Edited because after seeing this movie 36 times (so far!), I have further thoughts. – EW

If you haven’t yet seen Guillermo del Toro’s Frankenstein on Netflix, drop what you’re doing right now and go watch it. I’ll wait.

Now that you’ve dried your tears (you did cry, didn’t you? Of course you did!), let’s discuss this seminal tale that set standards in the Gothic and science fiction genres that still persist to this day.

One element in this new Frankenstein that particularly stood out to me was how Victor rejects The Creature not because he’s a cadaverous monstrosity as in the book — this iteration is delicately beautiful — but because of a perceived intellectual disability.

del Toro has created a masterful adaptation of Mary Shelley’s 1818 novel. He updated the time period and changed the plot somewhat, but the themes of parental abandonment and the misuse of power and knowledge remain intact. His horror films are always sympathetic to the monster – the outcast, unwanted and discarded – and to the pain inherent in being different in a society that neither understands nor seeks to do so.

The movie is a visual feast for the eyes. Victor’s laboratory is a pure mix of Gothic and steampunk, and the ship on which he is rescued at the beginning feels real because it IS real. del Toro’s penchant for practical effects and fully constructed sets looks far better than CGI and must be a wonderful tactile experience for the actors. A lush score by Alexandre Desplat makes you feel all the feels right along with them.

Victor Frankenstein stands beneath a cruciform apparatus for bringing his creation to life. The room is circular, dark, and imposing, with a massive stone carving on the back wall and at left, a huge metal and red glass cylinder - the battery by which he will harness the lightning's energy. — Look at this laboratory. LOOK AT IT.

Photo: Netflix

In Shelley’s novel, Victor Frankenstein is a student in pursuit of a curriculum he can no longer hope to attain at school. His quest for artificial life takes into account all that science has to offer, but the ethics of what he is doing don’t seem to penetrate:

I doubted at first whether I should attempt the creation of a being like myself, or one of simpler organization; but my imagination was too much exalted by my first success to permit me to doubt of my ability to give life to an animal as complex and wonderful as man….my operations might be incessantly baffled, and at last my work be imperfect, yet when I considered the improvement which every day takes place in science and mechanics, I was encouraged to hope my present attempts would at least lay the foundation of future success.
Frankenstein, or the modern prometheus, by mary shelley

In the film, Victor (Oscar Isaac, amazing as usual) embodies this attitude by behaving like a modern tech bro, an arrogant know-it-all, with no thought to the possible consequences of his actions. He even makes a play for Elizabeth, his brother’s fiancée. Victor was forced to learn medicine from his domineering physician father, who wants a boy just like him, a veritable mini-me. He finds refuge with his French-speaking mother, Claire, but she tragically dies when brother William is born. The seeds of his terrible parenting are obviously sown.

An unflinching scene where Victor demonstrates the animated fragment of a corpse fails to deter his hubris even when he’s thrown out of the Royal College of Surgeons for his gruesome research. Who gave him permission to take this body of a shopkeeper? I doubt the family knew he would do THAT with it.

A defiant Victor Frankenstein stands in front of a tribunal of skeptical and concerned medical professionals in old-fashioned white wigs. — “Yuck” seems to be the general reaction.

Photo: Netflix

The addition of sketchy financing by Henrich Harlander, a wealthy arms dealer and former surgeon, played by the always delightful Christoph Waltz (you know him best as Hans Landa in Tarantino’s 2009 film Inglourious Basterds), cements Victor’s fate. The ethics are way out the window by this time.

Book Victor dreams of his creation’s physical perfection. This is shockingly thwarted; his efforts to engineer his child as beautiful fail to take into account the poor quality of his materials (Shelley never actually says he’s built from corpses). Upon beholding the abomination he has created, he flees.

del Toro’s film flips this element of the book while still keeping Victor’s revulsion intact, though for a different reason. Movie Victor makes a point of seeking out bodies that are relatively fresh. The Creature, played with heartbreaking nuance by Jacob Elordi, is physically proportionate to his looming height (Elordi is 6’5”), and despite scarring that makes him look like a walking anatomy lesson, he is an attractive being.

The Creature in Guillermo del Toro's Frankenstein. He is a handsome man but unnaturally pale, with numerous scars across an unhappy face and long stringy dark hair. — Cue a million erotic and angsty fanfics on Tumblr.

Photo: Netflix

The handsome actor is nearly unrecognizable in prosthetics and makeup and still gives a performance that is already garnering awards buzz. Netflix released the film for a limited run in theaters to qualify for Oscar nominations, and I suspect Elordi will get one [ed.– He did, although he lost to Sean Penn]. He puts me in mind of another del Toro muse, Doug Jones (Amphibian Man in the director’s 2017 romantic fantasy The Shape of Water), who has never been nominated but should be.

Like many new parents, Victor is at first enamored of his child. Newly minted, The Creature is literally a baby. In a scene where Victor shaves the fragments of his scalp that actually grow hair, he reaches for the discarded razor EXACTLY as a curious baby would. He cuts himself, and Victor discovers his healing ability. He’s done it! Immortality! This is a terrific twist that ups the stakes considerably.

However, the baby doesn’t intellectually progress fast enough for his impatient father, and the caring ceases. He doesn’t even bother to name him. When he can’t say anything besides his dad’s name, Victor is increasingly cruel to him. The one person who should love him wants nothing to do with him and even tries to kill him. Filicide of disabled people is horrifyingly a thing, and sympathy often lies with the parent.

The Creature, bald and naked but for bandages on his arms and a sort of underpants garment, crouches in the woods holding a mossy skull. — Contemplating a skull in the woods. Who, or what, am I?

Photo: Netflix

The Victorian era in which del Toro set his adaptation saw an explosion in the institutionalization of disabled and mentally ill people. This persisted well into the twentieth century. We still do this to kids with behavioral problems despite the constant exposure of abusive boot camps and reform schools.

Visibly disabled people are still portrayed in media as either monsters (the woman in the basement in Barbarian), mystics (Ruben the oracle child in Midsommar), or objectified as exceptional to make abled people feel good, a trope often referred to as inspiration porn. And disabled characters are mostly played by actors who are not disabled (NOTE: I don’t include Elordi here because I’m discussing one possible interpretation of the movie, not an intentional choice by the director).

Despite his supernatural strength, the Creature also presents as physically disabled, as someone whose body and brain were pieced together from random parts and revived obviously would be. His gait is stiff and awkward — a nod to Karloff’s creature, perhaps? The film is full of Easter eggs. The way he holds and uses his hands shows diminished dexterity and their strikingly fluid involuntary movements are reminiscent of athetosis, though the actor was inspired by the Japanese Butoh dance form. These characteristics remain consistent throughout the film, even as he learns to speak in quite an eloquent manner.

In the book, Elizabeth is presented as the helpmate and saintly inspiration of Victor. She has no contact with the Creature except at the moment of her death. Film Elizabeth is Harlander’s niece. Unusual in her outspokenness in an age when women were expected to keep quiet, she is the only one of Victor’s cohort to actually see The Creature as a person. It’s worth mentioning that women who failed this basic test of femininity—that is, keeping their opinions to themselves—were often branded as “insane” and confined in their homes or relegated to the asylum.

Some articles have said the connection between Elizabeth and the Creature is romantic, but is it? It looks more like mothering to me. (The same actress, Mia Goth, plays both Elizabeth and Claire.) Literally the first thing she says to him is, “Who hurt you?”

In the basement, the Creature hands a dried leaf to Elizabeth, who has come down to see him. — The Creature gives Elizabeth a leaf.

Photo: Netflix

Clearly he touches her heart; like a mother whose toddler bestows a flower picked by a grubby fist, she keeps the leaf he gives her to her dying day. (Of course she dies. Women are always pain fodder for men, it seems.) Both Victor and The Creature lose their mother figures through the vagaries of their fathers.

Elizabeth’s tragic death is preceded by a conversation where Victor is emphatically disgusted by the idea of his disabled child reproducing. (Eugenics, anyone?) The Creature demands a companion, but Victor says no. Playing God aside, Victor has committed a more grievous offense; he has failed to accept his responsibility. He will die, but his offspring can’t. He’s ready to condemn him to an endless existence as an outcast, alone.

A spurned and neglected child, the creature in Shelley’s novel becomes angry, and a frightening juvenile delinquent is born. He lives in revenge of Frankenstein, destroying everything he loves. The child, who has not matured (and is not immortal), is nothing without the parent and goes away to die alone in a frozen wilderness. Book Creature finds no reconciliation with Victor in the end, although he does share his tale of woe. He who had professed such hatred for his father, upon learning of his death, is grief-stricken:

“Oh, Frankenstein! Generous and self-devoted being! What does it avail that I now ask thee to pardon me? I, who irretrievably destroyed thee by destroying all thou lovest. Alas! He is cold, he cannot answer me.”
frankenstein, or the modern prometheus, by mary shelley

Fortunately for our throbbing, broken hearts, del Toro allows his Creature to grow. He’s able to be with his father at the end, forgive him, and embrace his life as it is (we hope). He is no longer a child. The director has said the moment when The Creature faces his maker is akin to when a child is able to confront a parent.

“The first part of the movie is told from the point of view of the scientist, Victor,” del Toro says. “And the second part is when your kids come to you and say, ‘This is what you did wrong.’ And you have an epiphany, and you go, ‘That’s right.’”

Quote from Dissect the Emotional Ending of Frankenstein by John Dilillo (Tudum: Netflix)

When children are not given the love and care they need to thrive, they wither. Among disabled children and adolescents especially, rates of violence and neglect are higher than those of abled children. Disabled people face numerous barriers in society—they’re less likely to be employed, earn less, and the restrictions they face when trying to obtain services can be draconian. Discrimination persists despite the passage of the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) in 1990.

One wonders exactly how del Toro’s Creature will live. By the end of the film, forgiveness has given him a new start, but whether he can make something of it in the unforgiving world is up for debate. He’s learned to read and speak eloquently, but he will always be different. Those who look at him and see his soul and not his scars will still be few and far between.

I sincerely hope that, instead of an unnecessary and likely weak sequel, the movie sparks a conversation about what it means to be accepted in a society focused on the relentless pursuit of narrowly acceptable perfection through surgical and chemical means, and the illusion of it by removing representations of diversity as well as the actual people who embody it.

“An idea, a feeling, became clear to me. The hunter did not hate the wolf. The wolf did not hate the sheep. But violence felt inevitable between them. Perhaps, I thought, this was the way of the world. It would hunt you and kill you just for being who you are.”
-The Creature, Guillermo del Toro’s Frankenstein (2025)

Stuck, and a Revelation

Posted on June 15, 2025 by A. Elizabeth West

I’m still alive!

New Job is going okay. It’s basically the same thing I was doing at Exjob, just a little less organized (ugh!) but a little better paid. My business unit is not in the same city, and I don’t work on local projects the way I did there, which leaves me feeling a little bit disconnected from the people in my physical office. But everyone seems nice.

My other knee has decided it wasn’t getting attention and has rebelled in an unidentified (as of this post) and painful way. I didn’t fall on it as with my right knee (well I did, but that was more than ten years ago, so I don’t think that’s the reason). Physical therapy did not help. I had an MRI yesterday – hopefully, that will shed some light on the situation. I’m guessing I’ll probably need another surgery. It’s a good thing I saved my mobility aid from last time.

A tripod cane stands alone on a wood floor, its strap dangling from the handle. — Bought a cane; blinged it up. As one does.

Photo: Elizabeth West

No, I haven’t finished Book 3 yet. *sigh* Truth be told – I’ve been stuck.

I know how the story will end. The path to that end is meandering through metaphorical forest but not completely lost. I know Ilarrya well enough to take the Martinsburg pahss (if you read Confluence, you know) through it in search of the MacGuffin (Chris).

There is some research I need to do that requires me to walk around outside, and that’s part of the issue. My knee is not in good enough shape to do that right now, especially since it will not! stop! raining! every damn weekend. I think that’s part of what’s holding things up, but not all of it.

Another surprise – not a total one, but quite unexpected. I’ve always been a little weird, and I’ve always struggled with things that seemed to come easily to other people. Well, there’s a reason for that.

I was apparently diagnosed with what was formerly known as Asperger syndrome as a kid, but we have no record of it, and no one ever said anything (in the ’70s, nobody knew what that meant anyway). The new job, being less organized than the old one and the source of some difficult adjustment, prompted some inquiries. When I was finally told, it made SO MUCH SENSE.

So, I got retested. The doctor explained what my results meant and officially confirmed the diagnosis of autism spectrum disorder (ASD) Level 1 (plus social anxiety for more funsies — whee!). It’s actually quite cool. I have words now to describe my experiences and can figure out what support and accommodations I need. This is even better than when I found out I had dyscalculia. Yay, diagnosis!

Brunette woman in a black shirt gives a happy thumbs up. A caption below her says "Welcome to me"

My work is very supportive of neurodivergent employees. We have a disability/ND employee network, and I already have a temporary accommodation for my own desk because hotdesking freaks me the fuck out. Now it can be permanent. Which is cool, because I already put granola bars and a sweater and stuff in the desk, ha ha.

Before you ask, I’m not the least bit afraid of the current regime. RFK Jr. swims in raw sewage; what does he know, and Dump Truck is proving to be even more of an incompetent boob than last time. I’ve survived worse than them and will again. The focus now is on people who are more vulnerable than I am, as yours should be.

Side-by-side pictures of a blonde woman, staring fiercely into the camera and in a red coat looking off into the distance. — Be like June Osborne. Well, except maybe for the murder-y part.

Image: Hulu/Express

None of this is an excuse for why my writing is going so slowly, mind you. It’s better described as a distraction. I spent my half hour in the open MRI machine thinking about the story and how to move my characters further along toward their goal, and I’ve just spent a couple of hours today working. The stuck parts are starting to feel a little less gummy. My current goal is simply to finish.

One step (lol) at a time.

The Amazon Strike and Book Sales

Posted on December 21, 2024 by A. Elizabeth West

By now, you’ve probably heard that Amazon drivers are striking for better working conditions. Good for them! I hope they win.

I’m an indie author with my own small press (of a sort) who distributes through Amazon’s Kindle Direct Publishing (KDP). Currently, it’s my only outlet. You can’t get my stuff in bookstores (yet) or on any other platform. WordPress long ago skunked my ability to sell anything directly through this blog without paying for a business account I can’t afford given the small amount of money I make. I’m not great at independent marketing, and Twitter, where I’d picked up a little bit of steam, is not what it used to be.

Maybe I should do it like this instead.

I know Kerblam (IYKYK, lol) sucks. I don’t blame anyone who doesn’t want to buy through them. I went through KDP initially because it was free for me, and I had no money. Like, none. They can afford to do that because they make more off my sales than I do. (This is pretty much the case for everything, tbh. Writers, particularly indie ones, don’t usually make bank.)

If you still want to buy my books, I would highly recommend that, at least right now, you get the e-book version. No delivery necessary. Plus, instant gratification!

Who doesn’t love a little retail therapy?

Image by Jill Wellington from Pixabay

I’ll also be fine if you decide not to. My luck changed; I landed a good day job, and when I got laid off, I found another one (being in a larger city helps). Right now, anyway, I don’t need book sales to survive. I also live in a state that has protections my old state doesn’t.

When I finish the last book in this trilogy (I WILL, I PROMISE), I want to expand the options for buying. Unfortunately, Kerblam has the market majority, so I can’t avoid them completely. But I’d like to make it easier for YOU to avoid them.

I’m hoping to make it so you can order them from bookstores and support your favorite small booksellers. For now, if you want to, you can get them here.

WELL, SHIT and BOOK UPDATE

Posted on November 6, 2024 by A. Elizabeth West

You really did it, didn’t you, white America? We tried to tell you, but you fucked around and you’ll soon find out.

In book news, there are no plans to chuck anything, y’all. Assuming I’m not in Gitmo (!!!), I will still be writing so expect the third book in the Tuner Trilogy. It is progressing, albeit very slowly. I started a new job and I’m still getting used to that.

I will probably move distribution once the book is ready to come out. I don’t expect Amazon to go under, but assuming everything else doesn’t, I’d like you to be able to purchase elsewhere if you don’t want to do it there. If that happens, the covers will most likely get an upgrade. I would like to make them a little more cohesive (and better).

As long as I’m able, I’m not going to stop making art, and you shouldn’t either. Art is resistance; some of the world’s greatest masterpieces came out of tumultuous periods of history. It can allow you express yourself when you can’t do it directly and help you deal with stress, and put beautiful things into an ugly world.

Remember these words of wisdom from one of the oldest memes I can remember.

Drawing of a heron trying to swallow a frog. The frog's head is in the bird's throat but its fists are tightly squeezed around the heron's neck, preventing it from swallowing. Below the picture is a caption that says "Don't ever give up!"

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My Freaking Job Laid Me Off

Posted on August 7, 2024 by A. Elizabeth West

Yes, unfortunately, you read that right.

This was not about anything I did, and I wasn’t the only one it happened to. I’m trying to be positive about it, y’all, but it absolutely sucks.

Pic of the emoji with a straight mouth and closed eyes, the one you use when something is so stupid you can't even. — This emoji.

I liked this job, and it paid enough for me to live here without worrying overtly about whether I could live here. Thanks to the Biden administration’s student loan forgiveness program (before SCROTUS canned it), I actually found myself with extra in my bank account.

I seriously lucked out finding my apartment from 1200 miles away, getting it in April and not August/Sept (typical apartment turnover time here because of all the universities), and having it right next to a bus stop with free, off-street parking (this right here is GOLD in Boston). Not to mention, I only pay for electricity and it’s so small it’s cheaper to heat and cool, much more than my drafty old albatross of a house.

A round-leafed cactus with bell-shaped pink flowers sits on a wide windowsill next to a window covered in bubble wrap to retain heat. Next to it is a round carved stone owl with yellow eyes and a tiny metal toy horse. — Easter cactus my neighbor gave me. Dresses up the place.

The work did not impact my LD and tasks I have difficulty with other than my timesheet and planning how long it would take to do certain things. I could work from home, go into the office three days a week to have my own desk, and I liked all my coworkers. It’s the only place I’ve ever been laid off from that I would go back to.

Thanks to budget cuts, now I have to start all over again. Much like the 2016 401K rollover from Exjob and the 2019 payout from the sale of my Missouri house, both of which long-term unemployment and Covid completely devoured, the extra in my account is not going to last long here. I have to find something good, and fast. As much as I love Boston, like all cities in this white supremacist, corporate oligarchical country, officials would rather harass and displace unhoused folks instead of addressing the issues that caused them to be unhoused in the first damn place. I do not wish to join them.

WBZ CBS News Boston arial screenshot of tents belonging to unhoused people at Massachusetts Avenue and Melnea Cass Boulevard in Boston, Massachusetts.

I know Boston is bigger than OldCity and NewerOldCity, and there are more jobs here, and unemployment in the state is low. But I’m still limited in what I can do because of my stupid LD.

We’re fortunate this state has a better support system than Missouri, which will be critical because of a potentially serious health issue. I’m not going into it now — I don’t have any information yet, or if it’s even a thing, pending a medical test. I’ve applied for MassHealth and, should I be approved, it will kick in when my employer-controlled insurance expires at the end of the month, before the medical test is scheduled.

Donald Trump, asshole supreme, looks into the camera with a self-satisfied smile while having dinner with Mitt Romney in 2016. Mitt is at right, his head turned and gives the photographer a very sheepish look. — I never thought I’d have anything to thank that suck-up Mitt Romney for, but here we are.

Am I whining? Yes.

Am I justified in whining? YES.

Am I going back to Missouri? ABSOLUTELY NOT. I swore when I moved that this was it; I wasn’t going to move more than 20 miles again regardless of what happened. Besides, I like it here. There’s stuff to do, a lot of it free, and public transportation is a big plus. It’s by the sea, it’s packed with American history, AND there’s an Alamo Drafthouse. I decided I am going to see Deadpool & Wolverine anyway, although I might go to a regular theater instead so I won’t be tempted to spend $40 on food. Matinee tickets are usually cheaper.

And there’s this hilariousness (on the Green Line):

I don’t know why that’s so funny. It just is.

So I have to put my ass back out there. I will line up references — coworker said she would give me one, I have one in perpetuity from Toxic OldExJob, and my boss said she would give me a good one if anyone asks her. For what it’s worth, she did not look happy about the situation either.

Yesterday, I was numb. Today I’m angry and sad, and I feel like someone just broke up with me. (Also feeling mega petty—don’t expect me to be nice today.) I have to feel those feelings, and I’m going to indulge them for a short time. The rest of this week is not going to be good for much more than navigating the onerous bureaucracy of social support services.

I guess I have time to finish Book 3 now. But THIS IS NOT HOW I WANTED TO DO IT.

Here’s a start:

“It isn’t every day you travel through an engineered wormhole into another universe.”
The imaginary documentary host in Hannah’s head, with her calm demeanor, perfectly coiffed hair, and ruffled blouse, brought to mind an unflappable elementary school teacher from some ancient 1980s sitcom. She turned to the old-fashioned green chalkboard behind her. Her cool voice continued, “Let’s examine this a bit more closely.”
The woman stretched a perfectly manicured hand above her head and pulled a large roller map down in front of the chalkboard. It showed nothing but a white square surrounded by blue ocean, a compass rose at top right. Ornate letters in the center of the square spelled out one word:
UNKNOWN.

Updates: Why I’m Not Doing NaNoWriMo This Year

Posted on November 9, 2023 by A. Elizabeth West

I wanted to! I really did.

If you’ve been here through my other NaNos, you know I use it to finish things. I was hoping to do this with Book 3. It’s going very slowly thanks to my knee injury, which has impacted my ability to sleep peacefully through a whole night without waking up going “Ow ow ow” as my leg ended up in awkward and painful positions.

A man dressed in a red soccer uniform writhes in pain while clutching his leg on a green athletic field. — Like this, only the other leg and in my bed.

Image by shauking from Pixabay

In fact, I’m posting now from my sofa, where I’m on PTO after having an arthroscopic meniscectomy (knee cartilage repair surgery) this very morning. According to my orthopedist, the tear was bad enough that PT or cortisone was not going to cut it. I’ve been using a cane blinged up with little rhinestones (heh heh) for a few months now. As I did not wish for continued pain and the potential of a locked knee while I’m trying to, ya know, walk, I opted to just get it over with.

The pain block is working (so far), and I have a prescription for later when it wears off. I might not even need it — we’ll see.

I bought this SpongeBob shirt and completely forgot to wear it to the surgery.

A blue t-shirt depicting a running gag from the SpongeBob SquarePants cartoon, where a fish grabs his knee and screams "My leg!"

Image: Mademark via Amazon

It’s perfect for my first physical therapy appointment — if they ask me if I’m in pain, I can just point to Fred the Fish yelling “MY LEG!” and let him do the talking for me!

I’m hoping to get some work done during this interval, and the four-day Thanksgiving weekend is peeking around the corner. More writing time without the stress of unemployment is always a good thing. If you read Confluence, you know about Ilarrya — you’ll get to know Brinn’s world better in Book 3.

My goal is to have the book come out by next summer. When that happens, I plan to explore those other distribution options, especially if they let me offer the trilogy as a set with a little discount.

In the meantime, my books took a little trip to the central library in Copley Square for the Boston Book Festival a few weeks ago, where I took the marketing photo below. This building is well worth a peek if you’re ever in the city; the artwork and architecture are both spectacular. It’s not super far from Boston Common — downtown is very walkable.

They may not be in it (yet!), but at least they’re on it!

I traded Tunerville for Aoibh Wood’s Blood Rituals, the first in her series of paranormal romance novels set here in Boston. Her book looks great, and it’s next on the TBR pile. I’d also hoped to see Max Miller of YouTube’s Tasting History at the festival but the line was insanely long and the room in the Old South Church had unfortunately reached capacity by the time I arrived. If you haven’t seen that channel, go check it out right now. It’s wonderful!

I’ll leave you with that since I may need a nap soon. Life just loves to throw curve balls at you — let’s hope this is the last one for a while. Thanks for being patient with me, y’all.

The Big Move

Posted on July 3, 2023 by A. Elizabeth West

I told you I was moving to Boston last time I posted. Well, I made it!

View from a rooftop of two very tall blue skyscrapers against a blue sky, with smaller brown buildings in front and a skylight in the foreground. — I don’t know what any of these buildings are but this view from the office deck is mega cool.

Photo: Elizabeth West

Thank you to everyone who donated to my GoFundMe. This would have been immensely more difficult without your assistance and would have taken much, much longer. It’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.

But it had to be done. My life in Missouri had narrowed to a pinpoint of unsatisfying attempts at improvement, to absolutely no effect. I was born there, grew up there, and have friends and family there, but a change became necessary. When I found a job with a mostly remote team, a path opened up, and I took it.

I drove 1200 miles alone to my new place. It was the absolute worst and I will never do that again.

Small silver four-door car sitting on a driveway. The grass is very dry, yellowed, and crunchy since it was mid-July at the time of the photo. — My road buddy.

Photo: Elizabeth West

Oliver was a trouper. He gave me no trouble. He required a bit more gas than usual due to the amount of crap I loaded him down with. I don’t actually need him to get around, but it’s nice to have him when I need to go shopping. There’s a Walmart in Walpole, which does require driving. My building has free off-street parking so he’s safe from random swerves. I’m grateful to have him. It only takes two-and-a-half hours to drive across Massachusetts, and New England is so compact that I can visit other states. New York City is only four hours away by train!

If anything happens to my baby boy, or if I can no longer drive, I can still get to work. Public transit — even the T, with all its faults! — is one reason I chose Boston. It takes me an hour to get to work this way, but I’ve read three whole books on the bus and the subway already.

Speaking of driving, if you visit and think you’ll just rent a car and zip around town, DON’T. The streets may or may not be paved-over cow paths, as the story goes, but you will lose your mind trying to get around. I can’t go anywhere without the GPS, I can’t come back the way I came, and there is not one straight road anywhere. In fact, it reminds me a lot of London, which isn’t so bad when you think about it. Also, there is NOWHERE TO PARK. Just come as you are and take the T — it’s easy.

Close-up of uncooked vermicelli pasta. The pieces are angled all over each other in different directions. — Actual map of the city of Boston :)

Photo by Pierre Bamin on Unsplash

Leaving Mom carried some angst. We lost my dad last year and her health is not good, but the possibility exists that she may decide not to stay where she is, and I’m sure she’s glad to have her space to herself again. (I have two other siblings within driving distance so don’t come at me.)

Despite the crazy streets and the fact that everything is expensive as shit, I like it here. I have a library card, a CharlieCard, and friendly neighbors. It’s been two months now and I’m finally almost entirely unpacked.

One reason it’s taken so long is that I had almost no furniture – I went from a 728-square foot house with a garage and a massive yard to not knowing where I’d end up, and I purged not only almost all my furniture but half my books as well. I still have some decluttering to do, but my living room no longer looks like the inside of the storage unit – hooray!

A grey sofa sits against the wall be hind a brown trunk that serves as a coffee table. To its left is a bookcase with a brass lamp on it. Above the sofa is a large semi-abstract painting of Big Ben in riotous colors. — Home sweet home!

Photo: Elizabeth West

I finally have an actual sofa again — the bottom pops up into a bed. This will be Writing Central since my little desk in the kitchen is reserved for Job. Separation is key on remote work days, especially in a 450-square foot space.

Several years of unemployment and stress from that, the pandemic, and losing my dad and several friends hasn’t been great for my creativity. Doing something new is a good way to reboot your brain, as is a change of scenery. I haven’t actually been anywhere yet beyond my office and my neighborhood, but there is loads of time for that, since I’m not planning on going anywhere. This is it; I’m a Masshole now. The fact that it worked out so fast tells me it was supposed to happen. Why that is remains to be seen.

And now that my space is sorted, Book 3 of the Tuner Trilogy has recommenced. My head is back in Ilarrya, and we shall see what adventures befall Hannah, Chris, Josh, and the rest of the motley fish-out-of-water crew who went through the Martinsburg portal. Brinn, of course, was going home.

For now, nest ssem gehlent, mid ravdagen, und nesan achit thal prek ag in!*

*Translation: Until we meet, my friends, and don’t be a dick!

Proof of Life!

Posted on April 1, 2023 by A. Elizabeth West

I’m here! I’m alive!

LIFE UPDATE

I began my new job on March 13. It’s been a bit of a rough start:

My training has been pushed back for reasons (nothing to do with me).
The commute, which normally would be 30 minutes, is 45-50 because of construction (I’m mostly working from home now).
Parking (safely) is more expensive than I expected.
Friday of my first week, I tripped on the curb going to the parking garage, fell, and gave myself a third-degree friction burn on my knee from the inside of my jeans. At least they didn’t rip. I’m fairly sure no one saw (I hope, lol).

Man tripping on a beach with a sword flying out in front of him. — Like this, but with no beach and no sword.

Image by Harmony Lawrence from Pixabay

Currently, I’m in the St. Louis office, but at the end of next month, I’m moving to Boston. I have an apartment secured and a moving pod scheduled. Now the list looks like this:

Empty out all my belongings from the storage place BY MYSELF
Cram them into the pod at the house BY MYSELF
Drive 1200 miles to my new place
Unload the pod up two flights of stairs (outside) BY MYSELF (Edit: I do have two guys for two hours on the other end; I hope it’s enough.)

All of this while also at work 40 hours a week. No, I did not receive any relocation assistance (it’s entry-level). The short timeline means that it’s going to be tough financially. If you would like to help, you can donate here.

No, I will not be driving to work in Boston. Unlike St. Louis, that is unnecessary; I can catch a bus across the street from my apartment to a train station, from which I will alight around the corner from my office. It takes about an hour but I can also work from home.

With trains and buses, you don’t have to worry about parking and you can sit and read (except at rush hour). The only time I ever get to ride public transport is when I go to the UK. I know it’s not perfect and MBTA is not TfL, but it’s so much easier (and cheaper, and better for the environment) than driving everywhere.

A colonial-era building of red brick with a white cupola sits nestled among skyscrapers. In the foreground is a glass building with a patio table in front of it. — This is Faneuil Hall Marketplace downtown; it’s very close to my office.

Image by David Mark from Pixabay

BOOK 3 UPDATE

In my head, things are happening. On paper, not so much. I’m trying to get this move over with ASAP so I can concentrate on writing. Once both my butt and my things are in place, a personal version of NaNoWriMo can commence.

Essdran will just be in the text with a glossary at the end as it was in Confluence, though the list of words and phrases will be longer since we’re actually in Ilarrya. There’s a map here along with a lost chapter from Tunerville you can download for free. I know how the book will end.

There may be a set or some kind of discount for all three books; I’m not sure yet. I would like to offer a box set of paperbacks. IngramSpark transfer and distribution did not happen yet but it will.

There’s one more thing I want to do when Book 3 is finished: to have a table at a con. I don’t know which one, probably something local and probably not until 2024. The first Tremendicon in Springfield was a blast—I would love it to be that one, but due to catching up moneywise, it might end up being something within driving distance. If anyone has any suggestions for small sci-fi/fantasy cons in New England, feel free to drop them in the comments.

Now I’m off to start moving boxes (ugh).