I have never been a big fan of movie adaptations. There are many people who love book-to-movie adaptations and my post is not to bash those that like them. I know that there are many people who would make fun of me for always reading the book first. At times there have been movies that I have not seen because I have not read the book, even now that I am eighteen and I can make my own choice.
I was raised with the mindset that I always had to read the book first. Now that I think back on it, perhaps it was just a clever ruse in order to get me to read more. Sometimes it was true and then there were some instances in which I actually liked the film adaptation. It seems to me, though, that film adaptations have grown progressively worse throughout the years. To me it seems, that Hollywood film directors believe they can take poetic license to movies and make them completely different from the books that that they were based off of. That is not okay to me. Here are a few examples of movie adaptations that went wrong.
Example 1is Avatar the Last Airbender; while Avatar was not a book to begin with, it is the first offender that comes to mind. With the awful acting and the the pronunciation of Aang's name, I found it awful altogether.
Example 2 is Eragon; for those who saw it and read the book, we all know that the only thing that was similar between the book and the movie were the names and a few of the battle scenes. Nothing else. Oh, and the fact that there is a dragon.
Example 3 is Howl's Moving Castle; I love the movie for its entertainment value and its story, but for it's faithfulness to the book, all I have to say is at least they got the names right! The book is much more entertaining. There are some scenes that are completely faithful to the book, but they are right at the beginning.
Example 4 is Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Lightning Thief; Let's just not talk about it, okay? It was a horrible movie adaptation with little-to-none of the original book represented in it. The characters were not accurately represented by their actors/actresses and the plot was quite skewed. Now the Percy Jackson "fandom" may go back to their respective corners and weep.
Now, here are some of my favorite book to movie adaptations gone right!
Example 1: The Lord of the Rings Trilogy movies; I am a huge fan of the movies. They were wonderfully made and although there is some deviation from the book, it works for the movie and I have never really heard an LotR lover complain.
Example 2: Pride and Prejudice; the movie was pretty good and it took awhile for the book to grow on me, but once it did, I actually bought the movie. There are a few main points that are most definitely not included in the book, but they were tastefully done and I had no complaints.
Example 3: Catching Fire; I could go on for a day about how good the movie was in comparison to the book. The director and the actors really did the book justice and it was a movie where I went out of the theater after seeing it, saying,"Wow!"
Example 4: Harry Potter; I know that there are eight movies, but there are actually a few that are good. My favorite was Prisoner of Azkaban, because Sirius is my favorite character. The directing of the movies was fantastic (maybe except for the 5th and 6th, as well as the end of the 8th movie, that is just me though and all of our opinions vary).
Are there any book-to-movie adaptations you feel could have been done better? Are there any book-to-movie adaptations that you felt were stellar and I forgot to mention them?
I want to know what you think, so let me know in the comments!
Wednesday, December 18, 2013
Sunday, August 25, 2013
Unreliable
As we enter further into the technological age of man, I have come to realize how unreliable electronic devices are. I was sorely disappointed at the beginning of the week due to such failures in technology.
As some of you may know, I began college classes on the 19th (of August) and I thought that I would scope out the library after my classes were done; they end at 12:50 pm on Mondays. I walked in and was taken away by the devices the library had in stock called "Playaways". The library had it so that there was an individual book loaded to each singular device and shortly after looking through the shelf I found Life of Pi by Yann Martel. For anyone who does know, Life of Pi recently became a motion picture film, that I did not see because I have not read the book; but that is a story for another time in the future.
After taking the box containing the Playaway off the shelf, I checked it out and that evening I took it home to listen to it. I followed the specific directions to make it work and it would not function no matter how hard I tried to make it work. I was slightly distraught. So, I took it in between my German and Early Western Civilization classes the next day (Tuesday) and the library staff could not precede to make it function either. It was pronounced dead around 10:15 am.
I was sad for a little while but as I went further along in my classes, I realized that I would not have had time to listen to it anyway. Right now, I cannot read A Game of Thrones either because I have to read The Trojan War by Strauss for my Early Western Civ class, which is perfectly alright because I love reading up on history.
The point of this post is that technology is mostly unreliable and that I am probably better off reading a book made out of actual pieces of paper, that I can hold in my hands (and possibly sniff on occasion, because who does not like the smell of books?).
As some of you may know, I began college classes on the 19th (of August) and I thought that I would scope out the library after my classes were done; they end at 12:50 pm on Mondays. I walked in and was taken away by the devices the library had in stock called "Playaways". The library had it so that there was an individual book loaded to each singular device and shortly after looking through the shelf I found Life of Pi by Yann Martel. For anyone who does know, Life of Pi recently became a motion picture film, that I did not see because I have not read the book; but that is a story for another time in the future.
After taking the box containing the Playaway off the shelf, I checked it out and that evening I took it home to listen to it. I followed the specific directions to make it work and it would not function no matter how hard I tried to make it work. I was slightly distraught. So, I took it in between my German and Early Western Civilization classes the next day (Tuesday) and the library staff could not precede to make it function either. It was pronounced dead around 10:15 am.
I was sad for a little while but as I went further along in my classes, I realized that I would not have had time to listen to it anyway. Right now, I cannot read A Game of Thrones either because I have to read The Trojan War by Strauss for my Early Western Civ class, which is perfectly alright because I love reading up on history.
The point of this post is that technology is mostly unreliable and that I am probably better off reading a book made out of actual pieces of paper, that I can hold in my hands (and possibly sniff on occasion, because who does not like the smell of books?).
Thursday, August 15, 2013
Thanks
I feel like this blog has been somewhat neglected over the course of the summer. My plan was to write in it once a week, but seeing as I did not really get through any major books during the past three months, I think that I am okay. I wish I could tell you that I had read more fantastical things, but alas I did not.
Looking back over this summer, I have to say that even though most of it royally stunk, it was a good summer in general. I learned a lot about myself and my future career path, and where I should be going with my life. I rediscovered my passion for digesting book after book (even though I said barely read anything) and I realized that I truly do have a love for writing. When I write, I feel as if there is nothing else I should be doing. For that reason, precisely, I will not be writing any new novels for a good while, but editing the novels I have previously written. My dream is to be able to share them with all of you, no matter what medium it is shared. My job is to glorify God through using the talent that he gave me and what better way than to get a book published, or at least read?
I understand that I have promised this time and time again, but I feel confident that I will achieve the task that I have set before me. My first novel, that I wrote during National Novel Writing Month-2011 is the first thing I will be editing. It is partially edited already, mostly the first few chapters of the book. I have to go through and re-work the plot because it was atrocious with plot holes that did not do anything for the story line. I am fairly certain that you all will enjoy my children, my characters, though. They are the most human beings I could ever come up with and they are more than just words on a page. When I am writing them, they are actually there and I want you all to feel it as well through the words of the story.
Sadly, I do not have a name for the novel anymore because the first one just did not fit. I also had to rename my title character because her name was not adventurous enough. If anyone would like to read bits and pieces of this work as I remodel it, feel free to comment and I will send you a chapter or two and you may tell me what you think.
Thank you everyone who reads this blog for being so supportive of me, one-hundred percent!
Looking back over this summer, I have to say that even though most of it royally stunk, it was a good summer in general. I learned a lot about myself and my future career path, and where I should be going with my life. I rediscovered my passion for digesting book after book (even though I said barely read anything) and I realized that I truly do have a love for writing. When I write, I feel as if there is nothing else I should be doing. For that reason, precisely, I will not be writing any new novels for a good while, but editing the novels I have previously written. My dream is to be able to share them with all of you, no matter what medium it is shared. My job is to glorify God through using the talent that he gave me and what better way than to get a book published, or at least read?
I understand that I have promised this time and time again, but I feel confident that I will achieve the task that I have set before me. My first novel, that I wrote during National Novel Writing Month-2011 is the first thing I will be editing. It is partially edited already, mostly the first few chapters of the book. I have to go through and re-work the plot because it was atrocious with plot holes that did not do anything for the story line. I am fairly certain that you all will enjoy my children, my characters, though. They are the most human beings I could ever come up with and they are more than just words on a page. When I am writing them, they are actually there and I want you all to feel it as well through the words of the story.
Sadly, I do not have a name for the novel anymore because the first one just did not fit. I also had to rename my title character because her name was not adventurous enough. If anyone would like to read bits and pieces of this work as I remodel it, feel free to comment and I will send you a chapter or two and you may tell me what you think.
Thank you everyone who reads this blog for being so supportive of me, one-hundred percent!
Tuesday, June 25, 2013
"The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" (there will be spoilers)
What a terrible way to be born. Born as an elderly person, getting younger each passing year as you turn another year "older".
"The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" is a short story by F. Scott Fitzgerald, the author of many other works such as The Great Gatsby and Tender is the Night. The title character of the short story goes through quite a bit during his lifetime. He is born an elderly man and he dies as a baby. Fitzgerald depicts the life cycle of Benjamin Button quite eloquently, telling us about every part of his life and the events that happen within.
I think that the theme of this piece is definitely pride. I understand that I did not see it so well with Pride and Prejudice but I definitely saw it in this short story. As the reader I could see pride in Benjamin's father and in his own son. Both characters believed that Benjamin would ruin their reputation, but in some cases he made it better. He ran his father's hardware business for a good number of years, maintaining it until he passed it onto his son Roscoe. After that point Roscoe is ashamed of his father, because after all, his father is younger than he is when he comes to live with Roscoe and the event of his own adolescent father moving into his home is a stab at his pride and at his reputation.
The short story is far different from the movie adaptation which disappointed me some. It disappointed me that the movie would have strayed so far from the short story itself as to completely set itself apart. I cannot help to like both at the same time, but each in different respects. I enjoyed the movie because, well, I love movies. I enjoyed the story because the life of Benjamin Button made a bit more sense.
Upon finishing the short story I was sad. Partially because I finished it ( I am always sad when I finish books and short stories for some reason.) and due to the events that take place in the story. The end of Benjamin's life was especially depressing.
On that note, I will leave you all to whatever you were doing. I shall see you with my next blog post.
"The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" is a short story by F. Scott Fitzgerald, the author of many other works such as The Great Gatsby and Tender is the Night. The title character of the short story goes through quite a bit during his lifetime. He is born an elderly man and he dies as a baby. Fitzgerald depicts the life cycle of Benjamin Button quite eloquently, telling us about every part of his life and the events that happen within.
I think that the theme of this piece is definitely pride. I understand that I did not see it so well with Pride and Prejudice but I definitely saw it in this short story. As the reader I could see pride in Benjamin's father and in his own son. Both characters believed that Benjamin would ruin their reputation, but in some cases he made it better. He ran his father's hardware business for a good number of years, maintaining it until he passed it onto his son Roscoe. After that point Roscoe is ashamed of his father, because after all, his father is younger than he is when he comes to live with Roscoe and the event of his own adolescent father moving into his home is a stab at his pride and at his reputation.
The short story is far different from the movie adaptation which disappointed me some. It disappointed me that the movie would have strayed so far from the short story itself as to completely set itself apart. I cannot help to like both at the same time, but each in different respects. I enjoyed the movie because, well, I love movies. I enjoyed the story because the life of Benjamin Button made a bit more sense.
Upon finishing the short story I was sad. Partially because I finished it ( I am always sad when I finish books and short stories for some reason.) and due to the events that take place in the story. The end of Benjamin's life was especially depressing.
On that note, I will leave you all to whatever you were doing. I shall see you with my next blog post.
Friday, June 21, 2013
Pride and Prejudice, The Lizzie Bennet Diaries, and the Woman Behind It All
"It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife." (Pride and Prejudice p. 1)
The quote above is the opening line of the book Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen. I cannot think of any better way to open the book than through that quote. There is nothing I love more than the opening lines of certain books and the book I am making this blog post about is specifically one of those books (the other being David Copperfield by Charles Dickens, which I have not actually finished). As I sit here writing in my backyard, I wonder if Jane Austen ever pictured a seventeen year old girl writing an entire blog post about her and one of the books that she wrote. I do not think that the thought would have ever crossed her mind. I hope that I can do justice to her and to her book, though.
Pride and Prejudice focuses mainly on the Bennet family, and more importantly the five Bennet sisters. The oldest is Jane, the second oldest is Elizabeth (affectionately dubbed Lizzie), and then there is Mary, Kitty (Catherine), and Lydia. Then there is Mrs. Bennet who is too involved in finding her daughters a good match with a wealthy man to worry about anything else going on in her life; and then there is Mr. Bennet, who does not want his daughters to go through the same things that he did when he married Mrs. Bennet (which is basically the complete opposite of what Mrs. Bennet wants). There are other characters that are introduced throughout the book, such as: Mr. Darcy, Colonel Fitzwilliam, Mr. Bingley, Bingley's siblings, Georgiana Darcy, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, and others that I do not care to even mention because it would most likely make this blog post far too long.
Basically, the entire book is about the sisters falling in love and finding agreeable matches. I do not know how to write it in simpler terms that are easier to understand, other than the whole book follows that scheme. Jane Austen writes about the romances pertaining to three of the Bennet sisters; Jane, Lizzie, and Lydia. She was obviously not concerned with the the other two sisters falling in love, because that would have been more to read and would have made for a much longer book. (Okay, I want to see a happy ending for Mary, she was forgotten with everything!) One of my favorite parts of the book has to do with the romantic encounters of Lizzie and Mr. Darcy. Lizzie is everything that I want to be, but I am more like Lydia in some aspects. Lizzie absolutely hates Darcy, but he begins to fall in love with her. He basically tells her this and says, "You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you." That was where I became attached to Mr. Darcy's character.
The plot of the book and the events that take place in it left something to be desired, but I found everything at least slightly interesting. There were some points where my attention was completely taken and there were others where I would stare forlornly at the book from across the room, wanting to read it but not wanting to pick it up and start in on it again. The relationship I had with Pride and Prejudice is a relationship that I have had with many books, though. I wish that I had loved the book. The book dragged on at points and then it would speed up, and I did not enjoy it as much as I enjoyed certain other classics. The plot was what I said earlier in the post: the sisters fall in love. The books revolves around that for the most part.
I am not sure what I gained through reading the book, but I am rather proud of myself for having read it, like I mentioned earlier. I bought the book Pride and Prejudice back in February. I did not start reading it until a few months later when I actually had the time to read it. Before I read it, I was introduced to The Lizzie Bennet Diaries, a modern day portrayal of the book put out by Hank Green. I greatly enjoyed watching the diaries. They came out once a week and they ended at the end of March 2013, unfortunately. "Lizzie" and "Lydia" became extremely real during the time that I watched the diaries. I became emotionally invested in their lives and I eagerly awaited to see what would happen next, because I honestly had no idea what would happen having not read the books. Both "Lizzie" and "Lydia" has video diary channels of their own, but "Lizzie" was consistent and put out videos every week that I greatly enjoyed. The characters remained mostly the same, some characters were not there, though, and it was confusing once I started reading the book. At the end of March I was sad to see the diaries end, but I knew what I needed to do. I needed to actually read the book.
It was a month or so before I finally started reading it. I was trying to finish up The Once and Future King by T.H. White, and if you want to know how I felt about that, you can look at my past blog posts. After I finished that book, I started reading the titular book of the blog post I am writing here. It took a good month and a half to read it and I finally finished it last Thursday, because I had made plans to watch the movie with my best friend that Friday.
I have to say that all of the nagging my friends did to get me to read the book was not really worth it. I liked the book but it was not my favorite book, and I feel as if I am perfectly free to admit that, because this is my blog. I am glad that I read it because I feel more accomplished now, but that is about it. I am not madly in love with the book like my friends said I would be and that disappoints me more than anything. I do want to thank Jane Austen though. I can imagine now that she is looking down from her grand library in the sky and smiling at me, or she is turning in her grave right now due to my awful depiction of her books. (Please, do not spite me Jane, you seem like a very lovely woman.)
And with that, I bid you all adieu and I will see you all with my next blog post.
The quote above is the opening line of the book Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen. I cannot think of any better way to open the book than through that quote. There is nothing I love more than the opening lines of certain books and the book I am making this blog post about is specifically one of those books (the other being David Copperfield by Charles Dickens, which I have not actually finished). As I sit here writing in my backyard, I wonder if Jane Austen ever pictured a seventeen year old girl writing an entire blog post about her and one of the books that she wrote. I do not think that the thought would have ever crossed her mind. I hope that I can do justice to her and to her book, though.
Pride and Prejudice focuses mainly on the Bennet family, and more importantly the five Bennet sisters. The oldest is Jane, the second oldest is Elizabeth (affectionately dubbed Lizzie), and then there is Mary, Kitty (Catherine), and Lydia. Then there is Mrs. Bennet who is too involved in finding her daughters a good match with a wealthy man to worry about anything else going on in her life; and then there is Mr. Bennet, who does not want his daughters to go through the same things that he did when he married Mrs. Bennet (which is basically the complete opposite of what Mrs. Bennet wants). There are other characters that are introduced throughout the book, such as: Mr. Darcy, Colonel Fitzwilliam, Mr. Bingley, Bingley's siblings, Georgiana Darcy, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, and others that I do not care to even mention because it would most likely make this blog post far too long.
Basically, the entire book is about the sisters falling in love and finding agreeable matches. I do not know how to write it in simpler terms that are easier to understand, other than the whole book follows that scheme. Jane Austen writes about the romances pertaining to three of the Bennet sisters; Jane, Lizzie, and Lydia. She was obviously not concerned with the the other two sisters falling in love, because that would have been more to read and would have made for a much longer book. (Okay, I want to see a happy ending for Mary, she was forgotten with everything!) One of my favorite parts of the book has to do with the romantic encounters of Lizzie and Mr. Darcy. Lizzie is everything that I want to be, but I am more like Lydia in some aspects. Lizzie absolutely hates Darcy, but he begins to fall in love with her. He basically tells her this and says, "You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you." That was where I became attached to Mr. Darcy's character.
The plot of the book and the events that take place in it left something to be desired, but I found everything at least slightly interesting. There were some points where my attention was completely taken and there were others where I would stare forlornly at the book from across the room, wanting to read it but not wanting to pick it up and start in on it again. The relationship I had with Pride and Prejudice is a relationship that I have had with many books, though. I wish that I had loved the book. The book dragged on at points and then it would speed up, and I did not enjoy it as much as I enjoyed certain other classics. The plot was what I said earlier in the post: the sisters fall in love. The books revolves around that for the most part.
I am not sure what I gained through reading the book, but I am rather proud of myself for having read it, like I mentioned earlier. I bought the book Pride and Prejudice back in February. I did not start reading it until a few months later when I actually had the time to read it. Before I read it, I was introduced to The Lizzie Bennet Diaries, a modern day portrayal of the book put out by Hank Green. I greatly enjoyed watching the diaries. They came out once a week and they ended at the end of March 2013, unfortunately. "Lizzie" and "Lydia" became extremely real during the time that I watched the diaries. I became emotionally invested in their lives and I eagerly awaited to see what would happen next, because I honestly had no idea what would happen having not read the books. Both "Lizzie" and "Lydia" has video diary channels of their own, but "Lizzie" was consistent and put out videos every week that I greatly enjoyed. The characters remained mostly the same, some characters were not there, though, and it was confusing once I started reading the book. At the end of March I was sad to see the diaries end, but I knew what I needed to do. I needed to actually read the book.
It was a month or so before I finally started reading it. I was trying to finish up The Once and Future King by T.H. White, and if you want to know how I felt about that, you can look at my past blog posts. After I finished that book, I started reading the titular book of the blog post I am writing here. It took a good month and a half to read it and I finally finished it last Thursday, because I had made plans to watch the movie with my best friend that Friday.
I have to say that all of the nagging my friends did to get me to read the book was not really worth it. I liked the book but it was not my favorite book, and I feel as if I am perfectly free to admit that, because this is my blog. I am glad that I read it because I feel more accomplished now, but that is about it. I am not madly in love with the book like my friends said I would be and that disappoints me more than anything. I do want to thank Jane Austen though. I can imagine now that she is looking down from her grand library in the sky and smiling at me, or she is turning in her grave right now due to my awful depiction of her books. (Please, do not spite me Jane, you seem like a very lovely woman.)
And with that, I bid you all adieu and I will see you all with my next blog post.
Wednesday, June 19, 2013
Reading Progress
This is another miscellaneous post. I ought to stop posting these.
So much progress guys.
On the other hand, though, I have been reading books that are not on the list. I will get to the end of this list by the end of summer, this I swear by the stars (Get it? Because Les Miserables is one of the books that is on my reading list? Okay, I will stop now.)
So much progress guys.
On the other hand, though, I have been reading books that are not on the list. I will get to the end of this list by the end of summer, this I swear by the stars (Get it? Because Les Miserables is one of the books that is on my reading list? Okay, I will stop now.)
A Deadline Is the Best Thing For a Writer
This post is rather ironic. I titled it after I did not turn in submissions for two writing contests, even though I knew the deadlines perfectly well - I simply forgot about them. A deadline is the best thing for a writer. All writers probably know this. I know this. I am awful at remembering said deadlines, though.
The reason that this post is so ironic is that I titled this, meaning to write it by the end of whatever week in May that I titled it. I forgot about typing it though and I was too timid to come back here and finish writing the post. I still feel rather awful, but I tend to push those feelings aside, all the time. My main ideal for this blog was to write a few times a week but I cannot meet goals that I make for myself and the blog.
Since I last posted here I have tried to enter two poetry contests. The contests were both held in the month of April and I neatly missed both. Not because I did not want to be a part of the, but because I was so indecisive about what I wanted to send in that I missed both submission dates. I was rather peeved with myself after the fact because it would have been a great chance to get my work out there, although poetry is not what I truly love to write. I am more of a short story/novel gal, myself. The only deadlines I have been able to meet are the ones that have been set for me in regards to my novels that I write in November. I will promptly be beginning another novel in July for Camp NaNoWriMo called The Spiritualists, which I will actually include information about at some point in July. I have everything plotted out and I am rather impressed with it. It ventures from my normal style of writing, so I am happy.
I do not know if I am the only one that is awful at meeting deadlines. Jeffrey Moss, one of the main characters of the show "Bells Are Ringing" told everyone, in the midst of one of his many parties that "A deadline is the best thing for a writer. It builds a fire under him.", because at that point of the musical, he has to write two acts of a play that is supposed to finished shortly after that. I really do believe that deadlines can be a good thing sometimes, but if you push yourself too hard you will drive yourself insane trying to finish whatever it is that you are doing.
I will be back on Friday (hopefully) with a post about Pride and Prejudice, The Lizzie Bennet Diaries, and Jane Austen.
The reason that this post is so ironic is that I titled this, meaning to write it by the end of whatever week in May that I titled it. I forgot about typing it though and I was too timid to come back here and finish writing the post. I still feel rather awful, but I tend to push those feelings aside, all the time. My main ideal for this blog was to write a few times a week but I cannot meet goals that I make for myself and the blog.
Since I last posted here I have tried to enter two poetry contests. The contests were both held in the month of April and I neatly missed both. Not because I did not want to be a part of the, but because I was so indecisive about what I wanted to send in that I missed both submission dates. I was rather peeved with myself after the fact because it would have been a great chance to get my work out there, although poetry is not what I truly love to write. I am more of a short story/novel gal, myself. The only deadlines I have been able to meet are the ones that have been set for me in regards to my novels that I write in November. I will promptly be beginning another novel in July for Camp NaNoWriMo called The Spiritualists, which I will actually include information about at some point in July. I have everything plotted out and I am rather impressed with it. It ventures from my normal style of writing, so I am happy.
I do not know if I am the only one that is awful at meeting deadlines. Jeffrey Moss, one of the main characters of the show "Bells Are Ringing" told everyone, in the midst of one of his many parties that "A deadline is the best thing for a writer. It builds a fire under him.", because at that point of the musical, he has to write two acts of a play that is supposed to finished shortly after that. I really do believe that deadlines can be a good thing sometimes, but if you push yourself too hard you will drive yourself insane trying to finish whatever it is that you are doing.
I will be back on Friday (hopefully) with a post about Pride and Prejudice, The Lizzie Bennet Diaries, and Jane Austen.
Wednesday, April 24, 2013
Reading List
This is my reading list. The things that are in bold are the things that I have read. I will be lucky if I get through Pride and Prejudice before I graduate high school. I have an exciting summer ahead of me though. I will be spending a lot of time with my books.
Friday, April 19, 2013
Thoughts on The Great Gatsby
A week ago today, I started reading The Great Gatsby, after finishing The Once and Future King, and it seemed to me as if people were more excited over the latter novel than they were the former; maybe because it is a classic and TOaFK is slightly unknown and obscure. I honestly did not know what to expect out of the book. One of my friends said it was great and that I would love it. My best friend proclaimed that it was a terrible book.
Wednesday night, shortly after ten o'clock in the evening, I logged off of my laptop with one thought in mind: Finish the book, even if you lose sleep. And that is just what I did. I finished the book, actually. I only lost about an hour of sleep if anyone cares to know, but that is just a minor detail. Back to the point of this post, now.
I promised a blog post on what my thoughts were in regards to The Great Gatsby. I am not sure whether I will contribute anything with this post, but it is worth a shot and I always like to share my opinions on the books that I read, as long as I have gotten something out of them. I most certainly did with this book, whether I want to admit it or not. There were many things I noticed and picked up on. It was an interesting book altogether and my fears concerning the book, that had been created by outside sources, did not come to pass.
My first thought after finishing the book was,"Well, I finished it. What do I do now?" I was tired and I just laid in my bed for about five minutes, the lights on, waiting for some kind of thought to enter my head that would be intelligent enough. I was hoping that I would think to turn the light off and get some sleep, but no. My second thought I had before I went to turn off the light, that kept me in my spot for a few more minutes, was that I had just read a book about greed. If you have ever read the novel, greed is definitely one of its central themes. I was incredibly proud of myself for picking up on that myself because I usually have a terrible time at picking up on theme. Either I read into this book incredibly well or it was just so blatantly obvious that I could not have missed it even if I had tried to.
The theme of greed weaves itself so intricately throughout entire plot line. Money is every characters motivation for their actions, perhaps save for Jordan Baker and Nick Carraway. Nearly every character is consumed with going to town, going to a party, drinking, and fine clothing. When Daisy Buchanan, one of the female characters in the book, goes to visit Jay Gatsby's home, she begins to cry when she sees all of the clothes that he has laid out on his bed. She claims that she has never seen something so colorful and beautiful, and she is saddened because of this (at least that is what I recall, you never know if I could be right. I read this book late at night and things are always distorted at night.) Another character, who has money as his prime motivation (see, the greed theme really is working its way throughout the novel), is Jay Gatsby. Jay Gatsby is the title character, and after reading the book I am not so sure as to why he is called great. He is an extremely greedy man, who like Daisy and her husband Tom, retreats into his wealth whenever there is trouble. His life has been centered around how he can survive and the best way to succeed in the world. His life seems to be full of lavish parties, mansions, and everyone around him is consumed by that and not the person behind everything. I picked up that this was a learned trait from his father. You can see that at the end of the novel. I will not give away any spoilers, because I know that there are many who have not read the book because many people are much like myself.
I feel as if I read it again I could pick up on more than just one theme, but that theme stuck out at me the most so I decided, why not analyze it? The book was a good book in general, possibly one that I would read again, but not as quickly as I would pick up one of Tolkien's books. F. Scott Fitzgerald is a classic author because he picks up on what society values the most and then makes the reader of his work realize how wrong they are. One of the biggest rules in writing is that you do not write unless it is going to mean something to someone. That rule, which I just stated, is why the classics have remained classics and other books have fallen to the wayside. They take the very fabric of society and twist it; they manipulate it; they claw at it until it shreds, until there is nothing left over save for the remnants of what used to be. The books that are considered classics make us realize our wrong doings (and perhaps good works, if we have any of those to proud of) and they make us look at ourselves.
In saying this, I am glad that I finally picked up The Great Gatsby. If I had not I would not be here writing this post then, would I? I think it is a valuable book that everyone should take the time to read. Sure, it ends oddly. Sure, it is sad at points, why would it not make you sad? That is what makes it a great book though and that is why it will last on through many generations to come. I can truthfully say, that if my children do not read it in high school, I will encourage them to read it on their own because they will take something from it, or at least hopefully they will.
Wednesday night, shortly after ten o'clock in the evening, I logged off of my laptop with one thought in mind: Finish the book, even if you lose sleep. And that is just what I did. I finished the book, actually. I only lost about an hour of sleep if anyone cares to know, but that is just a minor detail. Back to the point of this post, now.
I promised a blog post on what my thoughts were in regards to The Great Gatsby. I am not sure whether I will contribute anything with this post, but it is worth a shot and I always like to share my opinions on the books that I read, as long as I have gotten something out of them. I most certainly did with this book, whether I want to admit it or not. There were many things I noticed and picked up on. It was an interesting book altogether and my fears concerning the book, that had been created by outside sources, did not come to pass.
My first thought after finishing the book was,"Well, I finished it. What do I do now?" I was tired and I just laid in my bed for about five minutes, the lights on, waiting for some kind of thought to enter my head that would be intelligent enough. I was hoping that I would think to turn the light off and get some sleep, but no. My second thought I had before I went to turn off the light, that kept me in my spot for a few more minutes, was that I had just read a book about greed. If you have ever read the novel, greed is definitely one of its central themes. I was incredibly proud of myself for picking up on that myself because I usually have a terrible time at picking up on theme. Either I read into this book incredibly well or it was just so blatantly obvious that I could not have missed it even if I had tried to.
The theme of greed weaves itself so intricately throughout entire plot line. Money is every characters motivation for their actions, perhaps save for Jordan Baker and Nick Carraway. Nearly every character is consumed with going to town, going to a party, drinking, and fine clothing. When Daisy Buchanan, one of the female characters in the book, goes to visit Jay Gatsby's home, she begins to cry when she sees all of the clothes that he has laid out on his bed. She claims that she has never seen something so colorful and beautiful, and she is saddened because of this (at least that is what I recall, you never know if I could be right. I read this book late at night and things are always distorted at night.) Another character, who has money as his prime motivation (see, the greed theme really is working its way throughout the novel), is Jay Gatsby. Jay Gatsby is the title character, and after reading the book I am not so sure as to why he is called great. He is an extremely greedy man, who like Daisy and her husband Tom, retreats into his wealth whenever there is trouble. His life has been centered around how he can survive and the best way to succeed in the world. His life seems to be full of lavish parties, mansions, and everyone around him is consumed by that and not the person behind everything. I picked up that this was a learned trait from his father. You can see that at the end of the novel. I will not give away any spoilers, because I know that there are many who have not read the book because many people are much like myself.
I feel as if I read it again I could pick up on more than just one theme, but that theme stuck out at me the most so I decided, why not analyze it? The book was a good book in general, possibly one that I would read again, but not as quickly as I would pick up one of Tolkien's books. F. Scott Fitzgerald is a classic author because he picks up on what society values the most and then makes the reader of his work realize how wrong they are. One of the biggest rules in writing is that you do not write unless it is going to mean something to someone. That rule, which I just stated, is why the classics have remained classics and other books have fallen to the wayside. They take the very fabric of society and twist it; they manipulate it; they claw at it until it shreds, until there is nothing left over save for the remnants of what used to be. The books that are considered classics make us realize our wrong doings (and perhaps good works, if we have any of those to proud of) and they make us look at ourselves.
In saying this, I am glad that I finally picked up The Great Gatsby. If I had not I would not be here writing this post then, would I? I think it is a valuable book that everyone should take the time to read. Sure, it ends oddly. Sure, it is sad at points, why would it not make you sad? That is what makes it a great book though and that is why it will last on through many generations to come. I can truthfully say, that if my children do not read it in high school, I will encourage them to read it on their own because they will take something from it, or at least hopefully they will.
Monday, April 15, 2013
Owen Egerton's 30 Pieces of Invaluable Writing Advice
- Write. Now. Go.
- Don't think. Scribble. Scribble. Scribble. Type so hard you bruise the screen.
- Now think.
- Revise. Revise. Revise. Cut. Cut. Cut. Rewrite. It is the sweat of craft.
- Don't always know what your images mean.
- Do always know what your sentences mean.
- Do not wait for inspiration. Go out and hunt it. Seduce it. Pin it down and dribble spit on its forehead until it cracks your leg bone and renames you.
- Writing takes time. Don't find the time to write. Make the time. If necessary, abandon sleep, people, television and drink.
- Treat writing like a hobby and you will receive nothing but the fruits of a hobby. It's a vocation. Honor it as such.
- Don't say you're trying to be a writer. If you're writing then you are a writer. Publication is nice, but has nothing to do with the definition.
- Love rejection. In letters, in criticism, in sales. Rejection is evidence you are in the game. If you're striking out, it means you got up to bat.
- Drink and talk with those that write and create, but never mistake talking about writing for actual writing.
- Love solitude.
- Celebrate arrogance. You're calling yourself a writer, for godsake. Embrace it.
- A person can only read so many words in a lifetime. Your reader is choosing to read you instead of Shakespeare, Hemingway, Whitman. Humbly honor that and give them the best of your soul.
- Do not write from answers. Write from questions. Discover more questions. Our work is not to explain the mystery, but to expand it.
- The craft of the sentence is important. But a perfectly crafted sentence with no passion is a well-dressed corpse. More fun to dance with a beggar than kiss a corpse.
- For a writer, the Internet is more dangerous than whisky.
- Whisky is pretty dangerous, too.
- Write what you know is bullshit. Reach beyond what you know, grasp for what is beyond your reach.
- The best fiction is magnificent failures. So fail magnificently.
- If your story isn't worth telling a stranger in a bar, it's not worth writing.
- In life many of us aim to avoid conflict. In fiction, we force enemies into a room with no doors.
- Laugh out loud at your own written words. Even in public... Especially in public.
- If you discover nothing while writing, don't expect your reader to.
- Dream onto the page. I mean dream in every sense of the word. Wishing. Fantasizing. And the unconscious game of your unthought thoughts bubbling into fragmented memories and shaping a narrative with elements of your life, but in a completely unexpected order and relationship.
- Live well. If your life is dull, it will seep into your pages like a stench. Take long walks. Get lost. Read. Read. Look foolish. Kiss people on the mouth.
- If you write because you believe the world needs you, you'll soon discover we don't. If you write because you are so naturally talented you must, you'll soon discover you are not. If you write for money... I'm chuckling at you. None of these reasons will sustain you. Listen. Are you called to write? Then write.
- You are going to die. So are all your readers. Let this inform every story you write.
- Writing is both holy and meaningless. That's all the pressure and freedom you need.
Honestly, I think that this is worth sharing more than anything else at this moment. Writing is one of the most beautiful art forms ever created. Writers are some of the most beautiful beings in the universe. A writer does things that no one else is able to do on a daily basis, and if not on a daily basis, then when they make time to do such things. They can take words and place them together to mean things that we never thought would be possible.
Words can move you. Would words be anything without the author behind them? Would words really be valuable if they were not stringed together to make a coherent thought?
I do not know. I cannot answer you.
What I do know, though, is that I am immensely proud to be a writer.
Friday, April 12, 2013
Not completely sure if this deserves a title
But, I finished the book.
I feel as if this is a great accomplishment because after two and a half months I finished the book.
That is all. I will return in a day or so.
I feel as if this is a great accomplishment because after two and a half months I finished the book.
That is all. I will return in a day or so.
Tuesday, April 9, 2013
Racing
Have you ever had a book that you absolutely hated, but you continued reading it because you felt as if you owed something to it? Oh yes, you know the one. It popped into your head just now. I have had many books like that, that in theory would be marvelous books to read but I never finished them. Not until now.
If you know me in real life, you will know that I am reading The Once and Future King by T.H. White. It is a modern adaptation of Sir Thomas Malory's Le Morte d'Arthur. Starting out, the book was decent, despite a few writing things that I hated (such as the anachronisms that were used, but I will not get into that). I had left it sitting on my shelf for three years after purchasing it. I decided that I would start reading it, and even though there were some details that I ultimately disliked, I decided that I was going to finish reading that damn book. Even if it killed me.
Right now, it might very well kill me. I have been working on reading the book since the beginning of February, and even though I only read about 10 pages a night and much more on the weekends, one would think that I would be done with it by now. Nope! I do have around a hundred pages left to read, though. This is where my race begins. There are books that I want to get read before I graduate and there is one book that I want to read before the move comes out. That is The Great Gatsby. The movie comes out on May 10th and I fully believe that I can finish reading the book by then. I am firmly against reading two books at the same time, and that is part of the reason that I have no started it now. The plot lines would get all muddled up in my head and it would be a bad deal for everyone.
This is why the race is beginning. I am trying to get The Once and Future King finished so I can start on The Great Gatsby and it is going ridiculously slow right now. I suppose that I could spend more time reading than I do on facebook, youtube, and tumblr... but the kittens. The pictures of the kittens are so adorable.
I hope that you all can be better than I and get some reading in soon.
If you know me in real life, you will know that I am reading The Once and Future King by T.H. White. It is a modern adaptation of Sir Thomas Malory's Le Morte d'Arthur. Starting out, the book was decent, despite a few writing things that I hated (such as the anachronisms that were used, but I will not get into that). I had left it sitting on my shelf for three years after purchasing it. I decided that I would start reading it, and even though there were some details that I ultimately disliked, I decided that I was going to finish reading that damn book. Even if it killed me.
Right now, it might very well kill me. I have been working on reading the book since the beginning of February, and even though I only read about 10 pages a night and much more on the weekends, one would think that I would be done with it by now. Nope! I do have around a hundred pages left to read, though. This is where my race begins. There are books that I want to get read before I graduate and there is one book that I want to read before the move comes out. That is The Great Gatsby. The movie comes out on May 10th and I fully believe that I can finish reading the book by then. I am firmly against reading two books at the same time, and that is part of the reason that I have no started it now. The plot lines would get all muddled up in my head and it would be a bad deal for everyone.
This is why the race is beginning. I am trying to get The Once and Future King finished so I can start on The Great Gatsby and it is going ridiculously slow right now. I suppose that I could spend more time reading than I do on facebook, youtube, and tumblr... but the kittens. The pictures of the kittens are so adorable.
I hope that you all can be better than I and get some reading in soon.
Sunday, April 7, 2013
A Hole in the Wall
I was inspired to write this by a picture that I found online.
The smell of decay hung in the cold, stale air that laid under the city. The bodies of the dead slowly rotted away in the tombs where they had been placed. They were now locked up for all of eternity. Eventually, the names that marked where they laid would wear away and the dead would be forgotten one last time.
The light of the torch that was being carried through the catacombs did little to extinguish the darkness and the feeling of dread that creeped in the darkness behind the person carrying the light. The dark figure continued on through the maze, ignoring the feeling that was present at the bottom of his gut. When he reached his destination the torch was set in a holder in the wall and other torches were illuminated.
He could see faces in the darkness, some that he was familiar with and some that he had never met before in his life. After speedily inspecting the crowd, he walked over to the large hole in the wall that bore his name. It was not far from the ground, so he could easily climb in.
The one regret that he had was that he did not say good bye. The hole was sealed quickly and he saw his last light.
The smell of decay hung in the cold, stale air that laid under the city. The bodies of the dead slowly rotted away in the tombs where they had been placed. They were now locked up for all of eternity. Eventually, the names that marked where they laid would wear away and the dead would be forgotten one last time.
The light of the torch that was being carried through the catacombs did little to extinguish the darkness and the feeling of dread that creeped in the darkness behind the person carrying the light. The dark figure continued on through the maze, ignoring the feeling that was present at the bottom of his gut. When he reached his destination the torch was set in a holder in the wall and other torches were illuminated.
He could see faces in the darkness, some that he was familiar with and some that he had never met before in his life. After speedily inspecting the crowd, he walked over to the large hole in the wall that bore his name. It was not far from the ground, so he could easily climb in.
The one regret that he had was that he did not say good bye. The hole was sealed quickly and he saw his last light.
Tuesday, March 26, 2013
It's an extension or... an appendage?
Okay, this is titled oddly, I know. This has a lot to do with what I am going to be talking about in this blog post.
I have always become embarrassed easily and when you add teenage angst and emotion to that it gets even worse. This is a post mainly about the embarrassment that I receive when someone asks me if they can read what I have written in the past, or even recently for that matter. My past writing is a huge source of embarrassment for me if I have not edited it, and I have not edited most of it. My current writing is also embarrassing because all I write about is Doctor-freaking-Who.
My writing is an extension of myself and whenever I write something it is like adding another appendage to my person. If it is something well written, it is another extension or a well-formed appendage. If I write something that is simply terrible and god-awful, then it is a poor extension of myself and like a little gimpy appendage. That is how I see my writing and when someone asks to see my writing it is like they are asking to see one of my extra appendages.
Why would you ask to see any of my extra appendages?
I am okay with sharing what I write, although I might be embarrassed, I really am. When people continually ask for me to share my writing it puts me off, and I do not know how to respond. I have promised a lot of people that they can read something that I have written or I will send them what I am currently writing, but then I freak out and I keep it all to myself because I think it is not good enough and that the person I am sending these things to might hate it. This is literally how I live. I live in the constant fear that my writing is not good enough and if I send it to someone they will make fun of me.
I know that most people are critical of other people's writing, or at least I am. When I review other people's writing I almost immediately start editing it in my head. I am not good at grammar, or at least I am not perfect at it. I will try and convince you that I am, but I am not. That is another reason why I do not share my own work here that often unless it is highly edited and I have read it to several other people first to make sure that someone, anyone will like it. That is simply how I am. I do not take literary criticism well and when my composition teacher told me that I needed to cut down on detail so I had more time for revision (we write in-class papers and all) I almost went home and cried afterwards because I felt like my whole world was crashing down around me. He did not completely criticize the way I write, but I thought that was what he was doing.
All in all, my writing is an extension of myself. An appendage you might say. This is why I am hesitant to share my novels with anyone. They are like poorly formed appendages that are not useful to anyone except me yet, in some odd way that has not been discovered. That is why I do not share my stories although I may be excited to, and I may promise to. You will all see my work someday, just not right now because I am not ready to show you my work. It is something that will take much patience from me and from you, my young paduans.
I promise that someday I will share more of my writing with you, but for now all you will be able to do is hear about how my writing is going and my rants on it. There might be short stories and poems scattered here and there, but I will not be sharing my novels for quite a while. I hope you all can understand.
Love me anyway, please?
I have always become embarrassed easily and when you add teenage angst and emotion to that it gets even worse. This is a post mainly about the embarrassment that I receive when someone asks me if they can read what I have written in the past, or even recently for that matter. My past writing is a huge source of embarrassment for me if I have not edited it, and I have not edited most of it. My current writing is also embarrassing because all I write about is Doctor-freaking-Who.
My writing is an extension of myself and whenever I write something it is like adding another appendage to my person. If it is something well written, it is another extension or a well-formed appendage. If I write something that is simply terrible and god-awful, then it is a poor extension of myself and like a little gimpy appendage. That is how I see my writing and when someone asks to see my writing it is like they are asking to see one of my extra appendages.
Why would you ask to see any of my extra appendages?
I am okay with sharing what I write, although I might be embarrassed, I really am. When people continually ask for me to share my writing it puts me off, and I do not know how to respond. I have promised a lot of people that they can read something that I have written or I will send them what I am currently writing, but then I freak out and I keep it all to myself because I think it is not good enough and that the person I am sending these things to might hate it. This is literally how I live. I live in the constant fear that my writing is not good enough and if I send it to someone they will make fun of me.
I know that most people are critical of other people's writing, or at least I am. When I review other people's writing I almost immediately start editing it in my head. I am not good at grammar, or at least I am not perfect at it. I will try and convince you that I am, but I am not. That is another reason why I do not share my own work here that often unless it is highly edited and I have read it to several other people first to make sure that someone, anyone will like it. That is simply how I am. I do not take literary criticism well and when my composition teacher told me that I needed to cut down on detail so I had more time for revision (we write in-class papers and all) I almost went home and cried afterwards because I felt like my whole world was crashing down around me. He did not completely criticize the way I write, but I thought that was what he was doing.
All in all, my writing is an extension of myself. An appendage you might say. This is why I am hesitant to share my novels with anyone. They are like poorly formed appendages that are not useful to anyone except me yet, in some odd way that has not been discovered. That is why I do not share my stories although I may be excited to, and I may promise to. You will all see my work someday, just not right now because I am not ready to show you my work. It is something that will take much patience from me and from you, my young paduans.
I promise that someday I will share more of my writing with you, but for now all you will be able to do is hear about how my writing is going and my rants on it. There might be short stories and poems scattered here and there, but I will not be sharing my novels for quite a while. I hope you all can understand.
Love me anyway, please?
Monday, March 18, 2013
Funny stuff
I recently started the second half of my composition class. I took the first half of this class last trimester. This time around it is with a different teacher, although he is one that I have had once before. I do not have good memories from the first time around but it looks like this will turn out to be a good experience after all.
I do not write much here anymore because I have been extremely busy with musicals, book reading, and all around business. I have also been focusing on my school work which does include writing an essay every week since I started taking these composition classes. I believe that I have become a better writer through these classes because they are both insightful and incredibly helpful. The class has taught me things that I will need to know for college level courses, because these technically are college level courses except they are taken at my high school.
The teacher that I have this time around is a teacher that I have had once before, back when I was a sophomore in high school. I have bad memories from the class I was in then but this class is turning out to be really great and I am learning a lot. The first day that I walked into this class we were given three books. Two grammar books and one book on how to write persuasive essays. Exciting, I know. After we picked up our books that were stacked on nice high piles on the floor we were given topics for our term paper. Part of me started panicking here because it was the first day in and this guy is already assigning us a term paper. What gives?! It was not all that horrifying and awful though. The class has to write a biographical paper on an author that they were given. The author whom I was given to write about was John Fowles. He is the author of The Magus, The Collector, and The French Lieutenant's Woman. He was a British author who died back in 2005. I am incredibly excited to learn about John Fowles and write a 5-7 page paper on him.
When the teacher was telling us the guidelines for the paper, he was telling us what kind of sources we needed to find. This is what is funny about this post I suppose. He told us what kind of sources we were allowed to use and what sources we were absolutely, under no circumstances allowed to use lest we be crucified on the small crosses that are in the drama club room - where we hold all of the crap that does not fit in the prop room- or be stabbed in the heart with a pencil; although he never actually said those things, I can imagine that is what he was thinking. He told us that we were not allowed to use encyclopedias but we were allowed to use books we found in the library. The kind of source which we are absolutely not allowed to use are blogs. I had to keep from laughing about this because I run this blog and a few other blogs that are out there somewhere on the world wide web. This made me laugh mostly because he said that blog writers were unreliable and for all we know they could be living in their mother's basement doing acid or something.
I have a sick sense of humor, but that was really funny. I would not think I would be prone to dropping acid in my mother's basement, but apparently I am since I write a blog! I always pictured myself as the coffee shop attendee who writes things for her blog in her spare time while she is drinking coffee at a coffee shop.
That is all I have to say for now, you may have some new things from me on Saturday.
I do not write much here anymore because I have been extremely busy with musicals, book reading, and all around business. I have also been focusing on my school work which does include writing an essay every week since I started taking these composition classes. I believe that I have become a better writer through these classes because they are both insightful and incredibly helpful. The class has taught me things that I will need to know for college level courses, because these technically are college level courses except they are taken at my high school.
The teacher that I have this time around is a teacher that I have had once before, back when I was a sophomore in high school. I have bad memories from the class I was in then but this class is turning out to be really great and I am learning a lot. The first day that I walked into this class we were given three books. Two grammar books and one book on how to write persuasive essays. Exciting, I know. After we picked up our books that were stacked on nice high piles on the floor we were given topics for our term paper. Part of me started panicking here because it was the first day in and this guy is already assigning us a term paper. What gives?! It was not all that horrifying and awful though. The class has to write a biographical paper on an author that they were given. The author whom I was given to write about was John Fowles. He is the author of The Magus, The Collector, and The French Lieutenant's Woman. He was a British author who died back in 2005. I am incredibly excited to learn about John Fowles and write a 5-7 page paper on him.
When the teacher was telling us the guidelines for the paper, he was telling us what kind of sources we needed to find. This is what is funny about this post I suppose. He told us what kind of sources we were allowed to use and what sources we were absolutely, under no circumstances allowed to use lest we be crucified on the small crosses that are in the drama club room - where we hold all of the crap that does not fit in the prop room- or be stabbed in the heart with a pencil; although he never actually said those things, I can imagine that is what he was thinking. He told us that we were not allowed to use encyclopedias but we were allowed to use books we found in the library. The kind of source which we are absolutely not allowed to use are blogs. I had to keep from laughing about this because I run this blog and a few other blogs that are out there somewhere on the world wide web. This made me laugh mostly because he said that blog writers were unreliable and for all we know they could be living in their mother's basement doing acid or something.
I have a sick sense of humor, but that was really funny. I would not think I would be prone to dropping acid in my mother's basement, but apparently I am since I write a blog! I always pictured myself as the coffee shop attendee who writes things for her blog in her spare time while she is drinking coffee at a coffee shop.
That is all I have to say for now, you may have some new things from me on Saturday.
Friday, March 15, 2013
It has been a little while...
I think that the first thing I should offer is an apology to you all. It has been an incredible amount of time since I last visited this page. Many things have happened in that expanse of time, both good and bad; but that cannot be helped because life is full of good and bad things. You just have to choose what you will let hurt you. It is all about your mentality.
I cannot pin down exactly what has happened since I have last posted here. There have been many things that have happened, some too private to tell, and some that are so minuscule that I did not really care to remember or write down. My search for the greatest literature has continued though and that is worth noting, although I do not remember all of the books I have read since the beginning of the year.
There has been a lot of book shopping and quite a lot of book contemplating. The books that I have bought recently were Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger, Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen, and The Last of the Mohicans by James Fenimore Cooper. For the last month or so I have been reading The Once and Future King by T.H. White and before that I was reading The Fault in our Stars by John Green. I added another book to my reading list and that is The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot. It is for philosophy club which has turned into a sort of book club to discuss moral issues within books. I am all for it, because this book is great. I can now discuss this book with my grandmother as well as my peers who are in this club with me.
Though I really like this new book, I really want to finish TOaFK. I want to know what happens, although I already know what happens I suppose. Whenever I read a book I go into it acting like I have no idea what is going to happen, even if I do have an idea of what is going on.
I thought that this was going to be a very long post... but it does not look like it will be and I do not have the attention span to type any more onto this post. So... good bye for now.
I cannot pin down exactly what has happened since I have last posted here. There have been many things that have happened, some too private to tell, and some that are so minuscule that I did not really care to remember or write down. My search for the greatest literature has continued though and that is worth noting, although I do not remember all of the books I have read since the beginning of the year.
There has been a lot of book shopping and quite a lot of book contemplating. The books that I have bought recently were Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger, Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen, and The Last of the Mohicans by James Fenimore Cooper. For the last month or so I have been reading The Once and Future King by T.H. White and before that I was reading The Fault in our Stars by John Green. I added another book to my reading list and that is The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot. It is for philosophy club which has turned into a sort of book club to discuss moral issues within books. I am all for it, because this book is great. I can now discuss this book with my grandmother as well as my peers who are in this club with me.
Though I really like this new book, I really want to finish TOaFK. I want to know what happens, although I already know what happens I suppose. Whenever I read a book I go into it acting like I have no idea what is going to happen, even if I do have an idea of what is going on.
I thought that this was going to be a very long post... but it does not look like it will be and I do not have the attention span to type any more onto this post. So... good bye for now.
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