Justin Tadlock

Writing

This is a collection of things I’ve written throughout my life. There may be a few gems here and there. Much of it is likely boring analysis essays and such. Read on if you dare.

A New Hardwood Floor

I grabbed one side of the blanket as Garrett, my friend who decided to visit for the weekend, grabbed the other. Our plan was simple, pick up the blanket that was a holding place for three one-gallon cans of paint…

Religion in the Vampire Motif

When reading Gothic fiction, one can assume that religion will play a role in the overall evolution of the literary genre itself. The section of this mode of writing that expresses its wishes to delve into the depths of religion…

The Antithesis of Fate: Self-determination in White Teeth

In her novel, White Teeth, Zadie Smith argues against fate and the appearance of randomness that the concept of predestination brings along with it. Her counter-argument is the idea of self-determination and its consequences. Interweaving the ideas together one can…

I Wanna Be An October Cold Front

I wanna whisper misery In children’s inner lobes, I wanna make fire crackle and smoke Fly out the roof, boil hot cocoa on the stove I wanna brown leaves Leaving stains, after it rains, on the patio, I wanna…

October 2, 2005

I work, I play I sleep, But I can’t stay I study, I pray Sometimes But don’t get my way This was something I never really finished, and I don’t plan to. I just figured I needed…

The Integration of Social Classes to an Age of Freedom

Using two quintessential modern characters of the Victorian Era, John Fowles seeks to challenge the social conventions of the past in his novel, The French Lieutenant’s Woman. In the 1960s, a time when sex marks the dawn of a…

Gothic Fiction and Its Revelations

In Matthew Gregory Lewis’s The Monk and Anne Radcliffe’s The Italian, each writer seeks to shock the audience by revealing a mystifying secret unknown to the main characters. Radcliffe and Lewis unleash familial secrets in order to put…

Tortured Artist

I’m a tortured artist without vitality. Color has lost its hue, it’s only darkness. I’m a fallen angel without a paradise. Eden has lost its innocence and beauty. I exist only through blank pages of an empty…