If Only I Had a Portable Door

A Book Review

The Portable Door by Tom Holt. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt

I had never read anything by Tom Holt before, but after watching the movie for The Portable Door, I felt compelled to read the book. It seemed appropriate to do so.

Knowing how I am and what I would feel if I didn’t read the book, I bit the proverbial bullet, carted it, and then eventually made the purchase.

Below is the review I submitted for Amazon:

I Should Have Read the Book Before Watching the Movie

However, I only found out about the book by watching the movie, so . . . there’s the rub. As phenomenal writing goes with a splash of wit, a dash of sarcasm, and vividly created scenes, The Portable Door (Book 1 of 8), is a fantastic read.

But I would be remiss if I didn’t mention that I much prefer the movie versus the book. In the book, it took a while to get to the “good stuff,” and I found myself trying to link one story to another and another to another, and it felt like more of me putting a jigsaw puzzle together than reading a book.

This was not a deterrent, though, just a bit of a challenge.

Around Chapter 8 is where I became quite invested in most of the characters and the author’s way of bringing each of them to light. There is magic, mystery, sexual innuendoes, debauchery, and madness flooding the pages. Once I was into the thick of it, I couldn’t look away.

It’s a great read that has persuaded me to check out the rest of the books in the series.”


I think it’s such an intriguing concept to have a compact door you can just flip out, affix it to a hard surface, open it, and say the name of the place you wish to go, then step through the door and you’re there!

People, that’s far more than magic, that is approved sought-after sanity.

bedbound

an unscheduled day off
enfolds my screaming body.
the mind stays strapped to
the foam of an
inviting mattress.

the soul cannot move.

I know these days . . .
mentally, I’m challenged,
and freeing myself from
the depths of this dark
space is often harder
than I’d like.

bedbound for the morning,
I watch news of Western NC
as cities lay underwater,
roads are washed away, my
friend’s brand new home
drowns before her eyes.
food and supplies have to be
air-dropped to designated
places.

“these are the last days.”

I turn over to reach
for someone to hold
and forget, momentarily,
that I live alone.