in which a girl reads

now on indefinite hiatus

2011-11-05T22:13:00.000-07:00

This is just to say I am hereby officially on indefinite hiatus.

Which you've probably figured out already since I don't post anything ever, am generally more elusive than nargles, and because this blog is more hiatus-filled than post-filled.

I'm sorry.

I'm now in college, and it's not as if I don't have free time--I do. I've just found that I can't read right now or talk about books in an interesting way.

It's hard to explain. I think I'm going through one of those periods where the way I think is changing. And this time, this feeling of WHAT DO I THINK? WHY DO I THINK IT? WHO AM IIIII? includes the reading and writing portions of my brain.

Hence, the hiatus.

Readers, thank you so much for looking at my posts and resisting the urge to gouge your eyes out while doing so. And for those of you who have left me comments-- I don't even know how to express my gratitude. I've gotten some comments on this blog that are really, seriously, the nicest things anyone has ever said to me. No one would say such things to me IRL, so it's encouraging that some of you have occasionally enjoyed what I have to say/ think my blog is worthwhile enough to read.

And some of you think I'm funny! (occasionally). No one in IRL thinks I'm funny!

Anywho.

I really can't say when I'll start posting here again, it could be soon-ish or a long time from now. In the meanwhile, I don't check my email for this blog or twitter or goodreads very often, though I do on occasion. I reblog things on tumblr, but it has very little to do with YA and basically no original material other than my incessant whining about life. If you'd like my url or just want to talk (though I'm a slow replier, I'll warn you!) you can email me at inwhichagirlreads@gmail.com.

In the meanwhile, I hope your life is considerably more chocolate-filled and book-filled and puppy-filled than mine.

Innumerable thanks,
choco

what to do with YA ingnoramuses?

2011-10-10T17:04:00.000-07:00

Y·A·L ig·no·ra·mus
(Young Adult Literature Ingnoramus)
Noun:
1) a person who has read little to no YA books but still insists on discussing them in a authoritative way. (ie: "I've read Twilight and the whole YA genre is terrible.")
2) Often can be found spewing the following: "YA is badly written," "YA is not seriously written," "Everything in YA is lacking in complexity," "Adult fiction is so much better than YA," etc.
3) someone who complains about YA's content, usually for the purpose of saying (hysterically) that innocent young children are being corrupted by YA authors.
4) a person who can somehow make the phrase, "Oh, you read YA?" equivalent to, "You are an unintelligent and immature human being, and also I don't like you."
5) someone who finishes off a negative review of a YA book with "But what can you expect? It's YA."

I think we've all encountered a YA ignoramus, in real life, on the interwebs, or both. Unfortunately, they are not one whit like nargles, as they're quite real, quite common and seem to crop up everywhere. Also, they are generally unpleasant individuals, quite vocal in their complete disdain for YA, and usually argumentative when you jump in to protest that YA is not at all as terrible as they think.

My response to YA ignoramuses has always been to chirp in with something along the lines of "But YA is really a very diverse genre that is not easily dismissed and categorized. Of course there are some bad books, just as there are bad books in every genre. YA doesn't make much sense as a genre anyhow, there's mystery books rubbing shoulder with romances and literary books and everything you could possibly find in one contained area in a bookstore. People who write YA aren't always in agreement with what it is, other than it should (mostly) have coming of age themes. Don't you see how silly it is to say all YA is bad?"

I might as well be speaking in another language when I say the above.

Lately, if I encounter a YA ignoramus on the internet, I try to point them to this article (Are You Reading YA Lit? You Should Be), since it is far more articulate than I am. I don't know if it's working, not because the article isn't great, but because it seems like YA ignoramuses are content to be willfully ignorant.

I find the whole cycle baffling:

Most of these people haven't read any YA. Or very, very little of it. They read Twilight (or even hear of it, secondhand, the information regarding YA blurred and distorted as it would be in the game Telephone) and suddenly they're educated enough, experts even, and feel the intense need to discuss YA and make broad, often misinformed generalizations about the whole genre. They're qualified to write ridiculous posts on the internet. Or worse yet, articles (and yes, this did happen a while ago, but I have a feeling it will happen again due to YA's increased popularity) in places like the Wall Street Journal or Slate.

It's not that I'm against discussing YA in a critical manner. I've written some discussion posts that do point out things I wish there were more of/ less of in YA (ie one on YA romance, YA high school dynamics, and older YA protagonists), but I don't mean those posts as a definitive statement on all of YA, and I certainly believe that YA harbors some of the most wonderfully written and communicative and fully emotional books being published today. Of course there are duds. YA is a genre, not a gurantee of quality.

So I wanted to ask you all, what do you do when you encounter a YA ignoramus?

The YA community, when united, is capable of responding in a vociferous and wonderful manner via tweets and blog posts, as in the "YA too dark" debacle. But when you encounter a YA ignoramus individually, how should you respond?

In an ideal world, I would get every YA ignoramus to read some of the best YA books out there, such as Jellicoe Road or Looking for Alaska. I would like them to come back to me after reading maybe a hundred YA books currently being published (not just the ones published 5-10 years ago) and say that they still believe all YA is inferior to adult literature [insert other silly comments here].

But this doesn't happen often, as far as I've experienced. I link articles or suggest books, and I don't really see any evidence of change.

Would it be more productive to simply ignore them?

I've considered this, but not getting involved is a hard thing to do when you witness a YA ignoramus facilitating a discussion in YA on an online forum and disseminating their silly ideas to other people.

I guess there are several options:
a) ignore them completely
b) jump in and argue with them
c) jump in and smother them with book recommendations and/or informative articles

I feel like c) is the most positive response.

Actually, I think I'll ramp it up more. I'll troll the next "YA is awful" online discussion and post a flurry of moving passages/quotes from great YA books, positive reviews, and shout I LOVE YA on top of my lungs.

Yes, I'll try that next.

In the meanwhile:

What are your thoughts? What do you do when you come across a YA ignoramus? Please share.

things I currently love #1

2011-10-03T16:57:00.000-07:00

I am writing solely out a desire to post something, anything. But mind has been too scattered lately to write a post that focuses on one thing only. Actually, to write at all, but the topic of frozen/vanishing words I think I should save for another post entirely.

To be honest, I haven't been reading much at all for the last few weeks, not because I'm a college kid and don't have time, but because I feel somehow disconnected from books. So I can't really talk about YA and yes I'm a sad excuse for a reader/reading blogger and really I don't blame you if you don't very much care for this blog anymore and I am surprised and deeply grateful that anyone at all still reads this blog (I DON'T KNOW WHY YOU WOULD) but I appreciate it <3

I've been wanting to keep track of things that I'm currently inspired by or things on which my thoughts are turning round and round, sort of in a loop (restlessly) and share it with whoever deems it worth their time to stop by.

IN TERMS OF MUSIC:

Chopin is currently my favorite person in all of time and space. I think it's pretty accurate that he's been termed the "poet of piano." You listen to him and it's just lovely complex heartfelt melancholiness, profound snippets of meaning and intense emotion sounding in your ear and guh I can not even explain to you how beautiful his compositions are I can't even--

LET ME LOVE YOU, OH POET OF PIANISTS

Anyhow. I've always, for years, loved Nocturne Op. 9 No. 2, and I especially like Yundi Li's interpretation of it, I swear I had tears in my eyes half way through. Also, recently, I've been quite captured by "Aeolian Harp" Op. 25 No.1, the inner melodies do sound very much like a sweet harp, and I'm somewhat lamely currently trying to learn to play it but my hands are sort of limpid and don't stretch far enough quickly or lightly enough (I lack a certain airiness of touch). Which makes me sad.

But. What I'm currently in love with? RUBINSTEIN, RUBINSTEIN.

I don't think even peanut butter and jelly beats the combination of Chopin & Rubinstein.

aasf;dsjg;dlsgkfs;lgf <3 I think I've listened to this the whole day today, I'm addicted.

Also, CELLO. Until very recently I liked the violin the best out of all the string instruments (always have) but I guess my brain did one of those funny reordering of tastes and preferences it's been doing a lot lately and I like the cello's deep somber voice better now.

I like Yo-Yo Ma in this, listen to all four movements while you're doing the laundry or something :D

So yes, I've been sort of obsessed with classical music lately.

TV:

Um.

Can I just say Downton Abbey?

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If you haven't heard of it, it's this magnificent British period drama set in the 1910's and the set and the costumes are just so GORGEOUS. hnng. Season two has just started.

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SYBIL IS MY HERO CAN I JUST BE HER.

Also. I've always loved HORRIBLE HISTORIES. I read those books when I was a kid, that and Roald Dahl and Diana Wynne Jones is what I mostly remember reading when I was young.

And I recently just discovered there's a BBC show dedicated to it.

When I have the time I'm going on a binge. I mean, just to give you a sampling: rapping King James.

I can't even handle the awesomeness.

READING:

Err. I haven't been doing very much of that, as I said.

But I do still have lines stuck in my head that I can't just GET OUT (seriously words, leave me alone).

Such as:

"I would like to be the air
that inhabits you for a moment
only. I would like to be that unnoticed
& that necessary."

-Atwood, Variations on the Word Love

"All colors made me happy: even gray.
My eyes were such that literally they
Took photographs."

-Nabokov, Pale Fire

"Love set you going like a fat gold watch."

-Plath, Morning Song

And bits of dislocated Yeats:

“disheveled wandering stars.”

&

“Dancing to a frenzied drum,
Out of the murderous innocence of the sea. ”

Also.

I'm particularly struck by the ideas behind this paragraph from Zusak's I am the Messenger.

Sometimes I have related thoughts; wouldn't it be sort of awesome to know who you are and what you're doing at such a young age, like the people listed by Ed? And if you don't, what does that mean? When do you stop being lost in who or what you are, or is this a continual state, this uncertainty dogging you throughout your life? Why do some people have such a strong sense of purpose and others just don't? Do you need a purpose or is it enough to just go about breathing and eating?

NERDFIGHTERIA:

Again, a rekindling, almost. I've known about these videos for a while and watched a few from time to time but can I just profess my undying love for John Green and his miraculous ability to make your whole day better in four minutes?

I really want a Pizza John shirt.

Also a Yeti-doodled-on copy of A Fault in Our Stars. Oh please please please.

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WHAT ABOUT YOU?

What are some things you're currently in love with/obsessed with/ newly acquainted with?

books, you've failed me

2011-09-23T19:15:00.001-07:00

Remember when I posted about how I'd like 18+ protagonists, books with old-enough birdies who have flown from their warm nice homes and are off adventuring in the big scary world?

That was what I asked for when I was still nestled in my nice warm home, thinking I'd like to live that sort of adventure through fictional people and yearning for such a book wistfully, in the same way you yearn for Harry Potter 8 or fictional foods like Butter-pies* or a new Hayao Miyazaki film.

It's not necessary to your existence but it'd be interesting and cool and make you'd feel entertained and happy if those yearnings suddenly materialized.

Well, I feel 18+ books are kind of necessary, now, not just a nice addition to maybe have someday.

Since I last posted here, I've started college. And while it's COLLEGE and everything what I really wish I had--as I walk around adrift on campus confused by everything and everyone and a bit lost and lonely and basically a choco-tumbleweed of a girl---is a book or a fictional character I could relate to.

And I don't have that, not really. Boarding school YA-ers? They're never homesick. They're too busy playing pranks or chasing after manic pixie dream girls or learning magic.

High school I understood. There are a thousand high schoolers within the pages of books I can talk to, and these shared experiences I had with these YA high schoolers made it more bearable and doable back then.

But college? Not just college, but this living on my own, living far away from everything familiar and normal, this complete sudden shock of EVERYTHING BEING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT?

This, I don't understand. And this is definitely a harder and more dynamic and interesting and new and strange and weird part of my life than high school was.

I think you readers will understand what I'm trying to say more than anyone else possibly could. We book bloggers and book readers are so invested in characters and paper-word-worlds that we sort of live our lives in conjunction with the stories that we love and the characters that have melded themselves into us and sometimes we find comfort in characters who are going through the same scary and untested and quite strange situations we're also going through. We become them and they become us in some small but beautiful way and things are just better, having a chance to learn about life through others' eyes.

YA has books that are like friends you can lean shoulders on or maybe older siblings that tell you what to expect.

And you know what?

There's nothing of that sort for college. Or more precisely, that aching feeling you get of not being home anymore and of being a semi-adult and figuring out how to take care of yourself.

I get that there are more pressing things to read and write about other than college students shellshocked by this sudden appearance of a newfangled life.

But there is also room for these types of books, somewhere. If there's room for sparkly vampires, there better be room for "WAIT...WHAT... I DON'T KNOW WHAT I'M DOING. I AM EIGHTEEN BUT NOT IN ANYWAY IMMUNE TO COMING OF AGE." books.

I guess what I'm getting at is I would like to know things, and this college thing is something I feel utterly unprepared for by books.
I would like to read about teenagers out in the world struggling to transition because I find it laughable and weird that anyone would think transitioning into an adult would be easy or uninteresting or not meaningful material for a book.

This was a ramble.

I hope you are all doing well and reading lovely books.

I would like to post here more often again.

*oh Diana Wynne Jones your Tale of Time City is lovely

Review: How I Live Now by Meg Rosoff

2011-08-20T21:19:00.000-07:00

SUMMARY:

It would be much easier to tell this story if it were all about a chaste and perfect love between Two Children Against the World at an Extreme Time in History. But let's face it, that would be crap.

Daisy is sent from New York to England to spend a summer with cousins she has never met. They are Isaac, Edmond, Osbert and Piper. And two dogs and a goat. She's never met anyone quite like them before - and, as a dreamy English summer progresses, Daisy finds herself caught in a timeless bubble. It seems like the perfect summer. But their lives are about to explode.

Falling in love is just the start of it. War breaks out - a war none of them understands, or really cares about, until it lands on their doorstep. The family is separated. The perfect summer is blown apart. Daisy's life is changed forever - and the world is too.

-from puffin

REVIEW:

First, I hope that this was intentional, as the phrasing is quite distinctive:

"Early the next morning I was strolling around as usual in my unpleasantly populated subconscious..."
-HOW I LIVE NOW (Ch 5, p. 17)

"I was wandering around as usual, in my unpleasantly populated subconscious..."
— Dodie Smith (I CAPTURE THE CASTLE)

I do hope Rosoff is paying homage to Smith's brilliant I CAPTURE THE CASTLE here. I'd like to think so, because HOW I LIVE NOW otherwise possesses a thoroughly original voice. If I really tried, I could summon up the similarities between these two novels: I CAPTURE THE CASTLE and HOW I LIVE NOW both have main characters whose voice renders them completely real as people, perhaps more than real. Both novels bring the English countryside (a la run down castle/manor) to life with glorious, ecstatic prose and touch on first love, albiet with rather unconventional love interests (bearded older man in love with sister/ cousin).

I first read HOW I LIVE NOW more than a year ago, when it was recommended to me by a friend (thanks, Vee!). I don't know what I was doing at the time, but for some reason, I didn't connect with the book. I barely remember reading it, though I do remember vaguely thinking "this is pretty good."

When I reread it yesterday, the aliveness and the vividness and the connection was there. As if this book had waited for me, patiently, resting in my bookshelf until the day I could pick it up in the right frame of mind and really appreciate it.

I appreciate it now.

HOW I LIVE NOW is one of the voice-iest YA novels I've ever read. The main character Daisy is humorous and LOUD and uninhibited and insightful. She narrates with run on sentences breathless with wit and CAPITALIZED WORDS to emphasize a point. There's not much dialogue, and the book is mostly her telling us what happened and what she thinks, but it works. It more than works.

At first, HOW I LIVE NOW has this sense of peacefulness (although mediated with Daisy's loudness) emanating through the pages. Her cousins, who she comes to live with in England, possess gifts that are related to us in a matter-of-fact tone but are actually quietly magical: Isaac and little Piper talk to animals, and Edmond can feel Daisy's thoughts. There's this light touch of magical realism when it comes to Daisy's interactions with her family, making everything feel sort of strange, but lovelily strange.

Later, Daisy falls in love with cousin Edmond, and though she acknowledges it's wrong, she talks of it as if it's inevitable and natural and effortless. I don't know if I really understood the Edmond/Daisy relationship. Was it just two alone souls reaching across to each other, yearning for love during a time of war? Was it lust? If Daisy is to be believed, this is love, though of an unorthodox kind.

Daisy and cousins spend a few golden months living without parental supervision (thanks to her Dear Aunt being stranded in Norway). They fish and swim and play and it's generally a bit like The Garden of Eden. War interrupts eventually, as it has a habit of doing. Daisy has hinted at it since the beginning. The enemy is unnamed, the public is confused, cites are bombed, people are dying. When war finally catches up, Daisy and her cousins are separated. There's death and violence, without sense or cause, graphic and mindless and sickening to read about. Daisy and her cousin Piper stick together, attempt to survive it all. It's here that Daisy comes into her own, and when I wanted to stand up and APPLAUD because she's so damn strong.

Really, the only problem I had with this book was the ending, and then the six-year jump that acted as an epilogue. The precursor to the time jump was abrupt and Rosoff, for whatever reason, had Daisy tell us about it only after it happened, which was disorienting to me. The six year-jump was interesting, especially since Rosoff matured Daisy's voice beautifully. But the ending almost felt almost like Rosoff laughing at us and saying "hey, these really cool and fascinating things happened, and sorry that you missed it, but here's this situation and ending that will hopefully tie things up for you."

Still, I really liked HOW I LOVE NOW. It's one of those books that's left an impression on me, one that I'll return to reread. Most notably, its narrator managed to escape its pages and become a part of me. I think that's when you know you've read a good book; when you can feel the edges of a character and the dimensions of his/her voice, and they've set up shop in your brain and they're as complete and solid to you as a person you might've talked to in real life.

Yes, I'm glad I reread HOW I LIVE NOW.

RECOMMENDATION: Highly recommended. It's a Printz winner, so I'm not the only one who thinks it's great.

I'm kind of tired of series.

2011-08-12T10:41:00.000-07:00

I've noticed something lately: when it comes to series, I'm feeling reading fatigued.

When I browse through upcoming reads on goodreads, I kind of internally flinch away when I see MARVELOUS INTRIGUING TITLE (#1). More often then not, I'm noticing, this (#1) intrudes subtly but insistently upon my subconscious, radiating do-not-read vibes. I guess that (#1) scares me away.

It's not that I'm against series, particularly. How can you be against books? So that's not it, it can't be it. I love the Harry Potter series. I love Garth Nix's Seventh Tower Series. I can do it, I can read through seven books about one character that take years and years to come out. I can stick by a series.

I can.

It's just, I sort of resent the occasions where, by picking up one book, you've signed yourself unknowingly over to having to pick up the next one or two or five, in order to get a satisfying conclusion.

I sort of resent reading a very strong first book that would be pretty much great if it didn't have a cop-out, scrambled together ending that inserts a ready-made conflict solely so the BRAVE MAIN CHARACTER can embark on another adventure.

I sort of resent reading a filler second book that only leads to a third book that's not even as good as the first one.

I guess I can deal with the series trend when the first book has a satisfying, fulfilling conclusion, when it can be read as a standalone. And yet, I'm human, I'm a reader. I'm far from invulnerable to that pang that hits you when you see the next book out in the bookstore, or it's shiny new cover of shininess, or that main character you loved gracing the next new book with her visage of awesome.

Much too often, in the same manner I'm drawn inevitably to a box of unwrapped and tantalizing chocolate*, I can't resist. I pick up the next book, shelling over that $18, and float home wrapped up in a cocoon of excited expectancy. But more often than not, I'm in for a few hours of frustration.

I'm not inherently opposed to spending another book's time with the same character. I don't have problems with the idea of a continuing story. It's just, too often, that next book isn't worth it. It sort of ruins the memory of that first book in my mind, colliding and enmeshing with it, until I can't separate the two reading experiences.

I guess I get too attached. From the HUNGER GAMES trilogy to WHERE SHE WENT (sequel to IF I STAY) to THE WAKE TRILOGY I've felt that disappointment. And then I wonder, why?

Why can't I just leave it at one? Why can't the author just leave it at one?

So now, I'm very hesitant to pick up any book that has (#1) tacked on to its title. I know it's judgmental and horrible of me in a way, but I feel like it's the only way I can save myself from disappointment. I dislike feeling disappointed, after being left to wait a year or two before the cliffhanger ending is resolved. I dislike feeling like the characters have morphed into unpleasant caricatures of themselves, dislike feeling like the true ending (the last book in the series) didn't quite live up to the beginning, the first book.

I understand the logistics behind the abundance of YA series, the money behind it and why publishers love it so much. And some stories are legitimate in that they're too big to tell in one book, like LORD OF THE RINGS. This series epidemic is by no means a YA-only occurrence; I feel torn to shreds by George R.R. Martin's devilish, scheming mind as he cavorts away from any sort of resolution, leaving countless cliffhangers in his A SONG OF ICE AND FIRE series.**

It's just, this feeling as a reader--that you can't trust books because of that fateful (#1); that you have to be cautious; that you must not pick up the second or the third unless you want you reading soul to be crushed into let-down smithereens--isn't a nice one to have. It makes me a little sad, and most of all, so weary.

*Or cookies. I can't resist those either.

**Don't get me wrong. I love A SONG OF ICE AND FIRE, but those last two books? A bit of a let down. However, it's definitely a case of a story too big for one book.

my past reviews are mostly void + title vibes+ notes

2011-08-10T22:50:00.000-07:00

Concerning reviews:

I think about 70% of my past reviews are either overexcited, too verbose, or misrepresent my current views on those books.

My reading tastes have altered. I don't agree with a lot of what I say in those reviews anymore. I don't agree with my ratings anymore.

And I don't understand why I felt the need to write such long reviews that SUMMARIZED the book in the first two paragraphs when the book summary is RIGHT THERE. *facepalm*

Therefore, I will probably be taking down a few on goodreads and editing some of the others.

On another note:

No more ratings on this blog. Just four categories of recommendation:

1. HIGHLY RECCOMENDED: Read this book--it's worth your time.

2. RECOMMENDED: Not bad, but proceed with some caution.

3. NOT RECOMMENDED: Not a good read.

4. SAVE YOURSELVES! : Terrible.

Another another note (title vibes):

I have recently noticed something terribly obvious but still feel enlightened. Have you ever noticed how some authors always have similarly worded titles? NO I AM NOT TALKING ABOUT HARRY POTTER and other series titles. (I'm not that thick.). I mean, books that aren't even related to each other, other than by author.

Take Courtney Summers:

CRACKED UP TO BE

SOME GIRLS ARE
FALL FOR ANYTHING

It's all :drumroll: common expressions that almost feel like they're begging to have a sentence filled in around them.

Sarah Dessen:

WHAT HAPPENED TO GOODBYE

ALONG FOR THE RIDE

THE TRUTH ABOUT FOREVER

JUST LISTEN

etc etc (this lady has written too many books)

They sort of have the same feel, these titles. Like they were all born from the same title mother.

Laurie Halse Anderson

SPEAK

WINTERGIRLS
CHAINS

TWISTED

CATALYST

PROM

It seems the gods of publishing has forbidden this lady-authoress multi-word titles. She gets to be the queen of enigmatic one word titles instead.

I mean, it's hard to explain, but don't a lot of books with the same author give off similar title vibes? Think about it for a minute. They just feel connected, don't they? There's probably some clever explanation--similar number of syllables, corresponding vowels, but I don't know what it is.

Or possibly I'm crazy and a few choice examples don't mean anything and I'm wasting my breath.

But still.

Even if my enlightenment is false, I feel happy. However, this is a rather sad revelation for debut authors that secretly hate their first titles, I'm thinking. They're dooooomed.

on another another another note:

I'm not officially out of hiatus mode. Just lately, I've felt like writing conversational things about books, and instead of talking to myself in my head I thought, why not talk to myself on the internet?

So no, I am not officially back because if I say that what happens when I have to disappear for college (which I'm starting soonish, ahhhh!)

But I am not averse to occasionally littering the odd thought/review/nothing-babble/ramble here.

another another another another note to anyone who still knows who I am:

HELLO AND I LOVE YOU.

another another another another another note:

I quite like goodreads now. My profile's here, if you'd like to friend me. It's a lovely place and I've taken to checking it around once a day.

Imaginary Girls by Nova Ren Suma

2011-08-07T20:31:00.000-07:00

I am leaving this here solely because I would like this beautiful cover on my blog first-thing, not some depressing post about a hiatus.

Also, hello (:

SUMMARY:
Chloe's older sister, Ruby, is the girl everyone looks to and longs for, who can't be captured or caged. When a night with Ruby's friends goes horribly wrong and Chloe discovers the dead body of her classmate London Hayes left floating in the reservoir, Chloe is sent away from town and away from Ruby.

But Ruby will do anything to get her sister back, and when Chloe returns to town two years later, deadly surprises await. As Chloe flirts with the truth that Ruby has hidden deeply away, the fragile line between life and death is redrawn by the complex bonds of sisterhood.

With palpable drama and delicious craft, Nova Ren Suma bursts onto the YA scene with the story that everyone will be talking about

REVIEW:

I just finished IMAGINARY GIRLS. Literally--I turned the last page a moment ago. It's normally a bad idea for me to write reviews without a breathing period, where my thoughts can take shape, my reaction stabilize. And I haven't written a review for a long time, have purposefully not written reviews for months. But I want to write this so I can think about this book more. I'm not sure what I feel about this book and why. I need this space to decide.

In some ways, this book was everything I could ever want out of a novel. In glittering, shining moments of the narrative, when a particular line uncurled itself from the page, came alive, just stood there and said hello to me, I felt it. When an arresting image appeared in front of my eyes, vivid and real enough to touch or breathe or live briefly in, I felt it. It's that thrilling feeling you get sometimes, when you're reading something that will become important to you. It's like a tickle in the gut. This was THE BOOK, I thought. My newest soul-book.

But for some reason, as the last page lies read on my nightstand, I realize IMAGINARY GIRLS never quite arrived there. What I'm left with is more a fleeting impression of a novel; several alive scenes, restless segments of language stuck in my head, a recollection of dialogue. At this moment, at least, IMAGINARY GIRLS is not quite substantial enough for me. Not quite enough.

It's not because of the prose, because the writing is beautiful. Suma writes with such grace. Her sentences flow ceaselessly on the page, undulating into and out of themselves, connecting with each other in moments of wonderful rhythm. Her imagery is precise--the details, small actions and appearances of characters focused on with microscopic intensity render sometimes surreal, sometimes poignant scenes.

It's not the premise. Magical realism or surrealism are currently my favorite things to read. I want more of it in YA; I'm hungry for it. And I want more stories like this in YA, that leave questions in your mind,
that are perhaps a bit strange but singularly unique, that make you think. Though the slow-moving events and the sometimes lack of a plot won't win as many teen readers over, I didn't mind too much, although I'll admit my attention sometimes waned during long paragraphs of internal monologue. Or perhaps it is the plot--how do I explain? It doesn't feel entirely like a linked story, this book. More a collection of compelling, surreal images. There's more atmosphere than happening, more prose than character.

And it's the characters, I've begun to think, that makes this book one star less for me. They're not quite enough. It's the fact that I can't sense them. They didn't come alive, in the way the setting and the descriptions did. I can't think of a character trait for the main character Chloe other than her obsessive love for her sister Ruby, her yearning. Ruby is easier, I suppose. She's cruel and beautiful and powerful. But Chloe? She's an empty vessel for the story. She narrates. She tells of enigmatic, wonderful Ruby, and that is all. But do I have a right to complain about her, when I love THE GREAT GATSBY so? Shouldn't I think something more reasonable, like Chloe's lack of substance is a reflection of Ruby's power to ensorcell, to captivate everyone and everything, so even a book about her younger sister focuses on her while her "echo" of a sister dissipates?

I don't know. I am left feeling strange by this book. It's not the more unusual turn of events, which I found refreshing and lovely. It's the feeling of having missed something, lost something. Maybe if I'd read this earlier in my life (or later--I'm not sure which) it would have meant more to me. It's the fact that it doesn't--for whatever reason--the characters, I suppose--that makes me feel unsettled, more than the threatening, oil black surface of Chloe's reservoir ever did.

RECOMMENDATION: Highly Recommended. One of the better YA books I've read, though the mystery of why I don't strongly love it (only really like it) is why I wrote this review.

SOME CHOICE QUOTES:

"I was an echo of her."

"In reality I was a pencil drawing of a photocopy of a Polaroid of my sister--you could see the resemblance in a certain light, if you were seeking it out because I told you first, if you were being nice."

"my boots miss your feet
my head misses your hairbrush"

"She locked her eyes on mine. (The whites of her eyes staring up at the half moon.)

She cracked a smile. (Her lips drained of color.)"

on hiatus

2011-04-12T15:15:00.000-07:00

I write this because there is an air of unfinished business emanating from this blog. I can feel it at its peak when on the internet, a sense of expectation waiting in the folds of the blogosphere. I've been wanting to write this post for a while now, but haven't. Putting things off is my forte.

For anyone who's followed in which a girl reads from the very beginning, or at least a time where I was actually blogging regularly, it's pretty obvious that my blog currently lacks luster. New posts are rare. My comments and reading of other blogs is almost nonexistent. I'm just--to put in plainly--not here anymore.

I've expressed a certain sadness at this withdrawal from the blogosphere before, and at this realization, also expressed a desire to revitalize a blog quickly disintegrating. I tried--and I think we can conclude, as of now, I've failed. Miserably.

I could blog if I wanted to. But that want just isn't there any more.

The thing is, I'm different from the starry-eyed fifteen year old that accidentally began blogging almost two years ago. I read different books. I think different thoughts. I have different priorities.

This is reflected in my blog. I don't know what to post anymore; I'm deeply unsatisfied with my reviews of late, and feel that they've lost a lot of their meaning. I think my impressions when reading have lost a lot of their weight with the general reading audience. And I rarely read YA anymore. What books I do read, I read differently; slowlyslowlyslowly, ponderously, with a different purpose.

Last year, I went on a month-long hiatus to study for AP tests. As I look into my future months, I see the best thing to do is to go on hiatus at the present time.

In April I have:
1) AP death studying
2) the biggest decision of my life yet: I have to decide (oh no, oh no) where I'll attend college, and this decision is literally occupying my mind day and night.
In May I have
1) AP testing
2) Finals
3) Graduation.

This isn't too much, but throughout summer I'll have limited internet access. In fall, I'll be starting college. Throughout this all I have scholarships to do, family and friends to spend time with, a book to write, new worlds to explore.

I've concluded I'd like to spend my time in the next three months (at least) in venues other than blogging. And really, I think dragging things out--pretending unfairly to myself and to readers that I can dedicate myself to blogging at this present time--isn't the right thing to do.

I don't want to call this a goodbye post--it's definitely not that--but a hiatus post. I will be taking a break from blogging, at least for a few months. I hope to come back one day.

If you'd still like to contact me in the next few months, please email me at inwhichagirlreads@gmail.com
I'd love to hear from you. Any of you: lovely commenters, lurkers, people that would like to chat about books or chocolate or want college advice or anything. Hopefully I won't be as awful at corresponding as I usually am.

And lastly, thank you for reading in which a girl reads, and for making my blogging experience thus far so much more wonderful.

Diana Wynne Jones

2011-03-26T22:25:00.000-07:00

I want to write something beautiful or magical in memory of this wonderful lady. But I really just can't. I feel horribly inarticulate, like I can't express anything correctly. I feel like whatever I say is going to come out warped, not quite coming across as it should. I'm too sad--so incredibly sad.

Diana Wynne Jones is and always will be my favorite author. She's the reason I read. Her books are what made me believe in fantasy, in writing, in reading, in the world.

I want to write so many things about DWJ; paragraphs about every book I loved by her, sentences about the sense of wonder she instilled in me, lines about those countless hours I spent re-reading every word she ever published. I want to somehow capture what she means to me as an author. I'd like to express how much the news devastated me.

I wept when I heard. I haven't ever met her, but her books--oh, they're just everything to me.

Diana Wynne Jones is prolific and wonderful. She needs to be known and read. The best way to honor her is to love her works.

I hope I am honoring her. I wish I had more words in me for this post, but today, they've failed me. I know I can say with certainty that my life would not have been the same without her books--it would not have quite as much magic in it, quite as much hope.

Thank you for that, Diana Wynne Jones. I will never stop reading your books, and I will never stop loving them.

RIP.

Review: Anna and the French Kiss

2011-03-13T16:38:00.001-07:00

I woke up today thinking, holy smoley, I need to write a blog post. What happened to my New Year's Resolution to post nearly daily? What a blogging fail.

I think life is moving too quickly for me (whaaa? I'm going to graduate from high school soon? I'm going to college?!), but also horrifically slowly (why do the days drag by slower than snails?).

I really should blog to fill that time up.

Anyways, a few weeks ago I was hyperventilating over Anna and the French Kiss. Reviews were uniformly glorious. I hopped to Book Depository, ordered, and it soon showed up on my door step, wrapped and bundled up. I read it last week.

Which brings me to this present day. Lately I've been feeling a bit deflated because, *drum roll* I gave up chocolate for lent. ~~WHY DID I DO THIS TO MYSELF HOW COULD I GIVE UP MY TITULAR LOVE? NOOO000oooo!!!.~~ So far, this has NOT been going well. *is in chocolate withdrawal*

*rolls around in pain and heartache*

*soul cries out*

Ahem.

Review time.

Book Summary:

Anna is looking forward to her senior year in Atlanta, where she has a great job, a loyal best friend, and a crush on the verge of becoming more. Which is why she is less than thrilled about being shipped off to boarding school in Paris—until she meets Étienne St. Claire: perfect, Parisian (and English and American, which makes for a swoon-worthy accent), and utterly irresistible. The only problem is that he's taken, and Anna might be, too, if anything comes of her almost-relationship back home.

As winter melts into spring, will a year of romantic near-misses end with the French kiss Anna—and readers—have long awaited?

My Opinion:

Anna and the French Kiss starts out slow. In particular, the first three chapters drag by at a glacial pace, as the narrator busies herself with filling in backstory. However, the novel soon picks up speed, and by the end manages to overcome most of its flaws and standout as one of YA's funnest romance reads of the year.

I am jealous of Anna. Oh, how I wish that my parents had packed me off to boarding school in history-soaked Paris, bakery goods and beautiful architecture everywhere, the ambiance of another country to fill my days. An experience like that would have quite honestly made my life, so at first I could not relate to the homesickness and resentful moping Anna felt as she acclimated to her new environment. Of course, many teenage girls would feel the same way as her and all in all, Anna is a pretty realistic character, which is the most important thing. I appreciated that she had a real passion--film--in her life, and ambitions to become something when she was older. I appreciated that her dialogue wasn't stilted or forced, that she thought like a teenage girl, that she had insecurities and flaws that added to her characterization. Above all, I found her relatable and likable, if a bit humdrum.

I'm not so sure about the other characters though. I know that Etienne is supposed to the ultimate love interest, but I didn't really care for him. He seemed a little too, I don't know, perfect. How many teenage boys exist like him? I really think they're a rare, if not extinct, breed. But I guess a suspension of belief on my part is needed, and the fact that he seems like a relatively caring, sweet person really negates a lot of the realism problems. The thing is, though, that as the story progressed, and Anna fell more and more in love with him, to the point of blind devotion, I couldn't help but wonder how unreliable Anna is with her observations of him. We're presented with this perfect semblance of a teenage guy: nice hair, an English accent, extremely intelligent, caring. Yet, his actions are anything but. If you pause and really think about him objectively-- fuzzy descriptions aside-- he's actually quite a jerk. He strings Anna along (a later explanation of continuous misunderstandings didn't really convince me) for much of the book. He flirts with other girls. He basically is leading Anna on, while he has a serious girlfriend that he won't break up with. I have to ask, isn't that cheating? Isn't breaking up with the girl you're not in love with anymore the decent thing to do before you start gallivanting around town?

I don't know, that just strikes me as a horrid thing to do, whatever Anna tells me.

This book posed a few interesting questions for me as a reader. Am I just not a romance reader, since I often find such issues with the idealized guy? Am I just cynical? Is the devotion Anna has in anyway similar to the devotion paranormal main characters have for their immortal boyfriends that I find so troubling? How do you differentiate between love and obsession?

I think I mostly got the impression of love out of Anna and the French Kiss. What really saved the book was the gradual development of the relationship, the fact that they were friends first, that Anna helps Etienne through a hard time because she cares about him, not because he's got a pretty face. I think what separates this book from most YA romance is the fact that the relationship is mostly based on the two's actions for each other, not how hot or physically attracted they are to each other.

And that makes all the difference.

The one thing I thought was unrealistic: the college application process described. The timing was way off for when Anna got her acceptances, unless she got early notification, and it really wasn't explained at all, or explained vaguely. I found it strange that Anna kinda underhandedly decided about the whole thing without telling the reader about it. I mean, if you're going to move from Paris across to the other side of the country that you're normally from, I think that'd factor into your thoughts during senior year. At least a little bit, I'd hope.

Ultimately, as much as a I complain, I can't deny that I had a wonderful time reading the book, and was caught up in the romance and most of all, her experience in Paris. Perkins has a gift for making her main character really develop, though many of the secondary characters did not come to life and were not as well-formed as Anna. I loved that Anna grew out of her hermitly ways and really blossomed. It was quite a nice thing to read about, and the relationship portrayed was endlessly complicated and interesting.

My Rating: 8.25/10. A good book, overall. I appreciated the many barbs against Nicholas Sparks types (ie Anna's Dad), too.
ETA: I think most readers will enjoy it more than I did, so yes, I do recommend it :)

life as a book sniffer

2011-03-04T20:43:00.000-08:00

I have a confession to make.

I sniff books.

Please, don't judge. Don't look askance. Stop raising your internet eyebrows in judgmental ridges, I say!

I can't help it. And may I ask:

HAS BOOK SNIFFING EVER HURT A SOUL?

I say no. (Unless of course, someone was allergic to a ink printed on a page and died tragically as they inhaled. )

It's an innocent enough act, once explained.

THE MECHANICS OF BOOK-SNIFFING

1. IN THE MIDST OF READING

I will be sprawled on the couch or perhaps lying on bed, with a good book in hand, scanning the lines, letting them wash over me in waves of language.

2. ONE OR TWO FATES WILL INEVITABLY THEN OCCUR:

a) My eyes will close, my arms crumple, and the weighty tome ~~falls haphazardly~~ comes to rest on my nose, whereupon I ~~breathe in the musty scent of an inky-splashed book~~ sniff delicately at the spine.

b) I come to the end of the chapter, and feel the need to spring nimble as a lame deer (i.e. fall) to my bookshelf, and sniff, just to see if the area surrounding my bookshelf is yet acquiring that bookstore-eque SMELL. That of thousands of pages nesting close together with stories winding through them.

My disappointed verdict, as always: Nope, doesn't smell bookish yet.

3. SMELLING EUPHORIA

I think a particularly good book tends to smell better than others. But all books smell--beyond their material scent, of their contents. Move beyond the mundane ink and paper descriptions and transcend your nasal limitations!

Doesn't Harry Potter smell a bit like, uhhh, MAGICAL WONDER?

Doesn't Hunger Games smell a bit like FRENZIED ACTION?

Doesn't I am the Messenger smell a bit like, uhh,COMING-OF-AGE?

Doesn't The Road smell a bit desperate and dusty (oh, wait, that might just be because of the two-feet dust layer over my room...)

I say thus to you naysayers: smells absolutely should be nonsensically conflated with feelings and ideas. Yes.

*A CONCLUSION IN WHICH THIS POST BRIEFLY MAKES SENSE*

In some strange way the scent of books is comforting. (:

I do really love that new book smell of bookstores, though. Always makes me pause when I step through the threshold of Barnes & Noble. *sigh*

Do you too enjoy the scent of books?

Review: Across the Universe

2011-02-28T17:08:00.000-08:00

Oh dear, I feel terrible for not updating the blog regularly. It's been pure forgetfulness on my part. I'm once again in the bad habit of reading but not reviewing. Hopefully I'm not too rusty. :)

Book Summary:

Seventeen-year-old Amy joins her parents as frozen cargo aboard the vast spaceship Godspeed and expects to awaken on a new planet, three hundred years in the future. Never could she have known that her frozen slumber would come to an end fifty years too soon and that she would be thrust into the brave new world of a spaceship that lives by its own rules.

Amy quickly realizes that her awakening was no mere computer malfunction. Someone-one of the few thousand inhabitants of the spaceship-tried to kill her. And if Amy doesn't do something soon, her parents will be next.

Now Amy must race to unlock Godspeed's hidden secrets. But out of her list of murder suspects, there's only one who matters: Elder, the future leader of the ship and the love she could never have seen coming.

My Opinion:

So I knew this book was going to be big the moment I saw Hunger Game references abound (it's the Hunger Games of space books! analysts shouted) and it's impeccably designed cover appeared in Costco. (Only the heavy hitters sell in non-bookstores.)

And Across the Universe certainly opens to a marvelous first chapter--the haunting description of Amy and her parents being frozen into a mummy-esque state for the next 300 years is completely engrossing. I had only to read the first page before I decided to buy Across the Universe. I think this:

"Mom wanted me to go first. I think it was because she was afraid that after they were constrained and frozen, I'd walk away, return to life rather than consign myself to that cold, clear box. But Daddy insisted."

Is perhaps one of the best YA paragraphs I've ever read--something to do with the rhythm, Amy's voice slicing clear through it.

Unfortunately, the book failed to live up to it's glorious first chapter.

Here's why:

1. The characters (not enough depth). POV consequently suffers because of this.

Across the Universe is narrated by a duo: Amy, the Earth girl, the one who opens and closes the book, the one who's the reader's friend, the one we can relate to. And then, Elder: oh, he's such a darling boy. I liked him as a character a lot, but seventeen years living in a screwed up, totalitarian society certainly leaves its mark.

At first, I liked Amy. She was relatable. But as the chapters progressed, I quickly grew bored with her narration. I began to question why she was even a POV in this book, other than to form a bridge with the reader, with her unlikely tales of a futuristic Earth (Yearbook staffer, check. Cross country runner, check. Boyfriend left behind? Check) that we can relate to oddly out of place and unrealistic*. And then, there's the very problem that Elder idolizes her so much--makes her seem more like an object, less human, by the very dint of this lionizing. Soon, I got the impression that Amy was only special because she's from Earth. This is her defining characteristic--she's an Earthling amongst a ship filled with crazed and confused people. Somehow, I want more out of a main character other than an ability to chirp about Earth-related activities and recognize that things are way weird on this ship--I can do that myself, thanks. Although, her determination to continue on without her parents is a show of strength.

Elder is sweet, for all his tendencies to back down (he's only been conditioned to do this from the day he was born! I want to shout at all his naysayers). And moving past his overwhelming tendency to view Amy as something he has control over, he's got good intentions. I really wish that the entirety of the book had been narrated from Elder's POV--I think it would have led to a much stronger novel, overall. But as such, I can only say I much preferred his chapters to Amy's--his relationship with the ship's leader Eldest is particularly intriguing, his knowledge of the ship, and struggle to understand betrayal and shake himself from an upbringing built on lies is the core of the book and where the themes are rooted.

Like I said, I felt Amy's POV to be unnecessary. Also, there's the problem that the voices were too similar--I'd read a few pages of Amy's narrative without realizing that it was actually Elder's. I suppose I shouldn't complain too much, because ranging from Shiver to Smack, I've always, always had issues with multi-POV books in that the voice is just too darn similar between each first-person narrator.

Ultimately, I felt that in Across the Universe, there are two halfway-there main characters (Elder & Amy) instead of one fully-fleshed out main character.

2. The hodgepodge genre-hopping, veering plot that is both it's downfall and defining characteristic.

At first, I think the promise of a combination of genres is what drew me to this book. Sci-fi (aboard a spaceship, no less) with a sharp dystopian hook, romance to boot, and a strong murder mystery underlying it all?

Definitely sounds like a must-read.

However, I think this confusion of elements is hard to navigate at the best of times, and Across the Universe quickly falls into some problematic areas. It starts off as a murder-mystery, but as Revis begins to describe the inner workings of the ship, the dystopian elements take over, once it's clear that this is a basically a functioning society, not a space opera. I think this is some of the reason I prefer Elder's narrative--it dealt with the dystopian elements in a way that Amy's couldn't--from the viewpoint of a character brought up in such a society and only now beginning to become disillusioned.

The dystopian elements are a bit predictable: throw in a 2-dimensional dictator with unsympathetic motives (I myself began to wonder if Eldest was truly as bad as the author wanted us to believe), a Giver-esque bag of goodies for the old people and control over occupations, and a Brave New World influenced spin on sex (here, dubbed the Season.)

The dynamics of such a small society (worry about incest and the like) was fascinating, though the Season was overwrought--much to much attention and pages focused on it, to the point where the plot suffered--and ultimately smacked of "mindlessness is bad" preaching.

3. The ending. It just plain threw me for a loop.

I felt cheated. Like, explain to me please how a character could keep something so inherently important to the plot such a secret from the reader for the whole space of the book? ELDER, WHY?

Overall:

I thought the quiet despair of the book was just beautifully done. These people are trapped on a spaceship, in the middle of nowhere, and there is just no escaping the situation.

Basically, I loved that they were all hopelessly doomed, tehehe.

I thought the book was pretty well-written overall in terms of prose and there are some very lovely descriptions that have stayed with even after the last page--Amy's sunset hair, the stars, the mechanics of cyrogenics.

I think the plot was just difficult to execute and the characters could have been stronger. But I was content enough with Across the Universe--I fair sped through the book, read it all in one sitting. Though I don't know if it'll be the next Hunger Games, I think many a reader will be entertained, and I do hope it will do something for expanding the currently barren sci-fi genre (not counting dystopian books) in YA.

In short, a fairly decent book, and I will most likely be reading whatever Beth Revis writes next.

Rating: 7.5/10. Be aware that the first chapter is especially enticing. Across the Universe is definitely a library must-read, though I don't know about shelling out $18. However, its very popularity might merit a "read" label--don't want to miss out if everyone's talking about it. But like almost all bestsellers, its over-hyped.

Also, the cover over-emphasizes the romance element. Beautiful, but not an accurate representation of the book.

*If Earth is far enough in the future to have built a full-functioning spaceship and developed this much technology, I very much doubt the culture would be even remotely similar to what we're living today. I mean, that's like the difference between the 1800's and now. Hardly similar. Thus, my problem with Amy's tales of Earth that could have been describing early 21st century Earth. This was something that continually bothered me throughout the book and made me question the validity of the world-building. Oh, well--I guess it could be argued that the information given was vague enough to be interpreted any which way.

You Know You're a Book Blogger When...

2011-02-11T20:35:00.000-08:00

You have significantly more friends on Goodreads than you do on Facebook.
Your preferred medium of communication is the written word.
You unashamedly stalk your favorite authors online.
The acronym ARC makes you salivate
Your TBR list is several miles high
5-star ratings become applicable to everything in life, not just books
You have an uncontrollable urge to buy everything you see in a bookstore
Packages on your doorstep mean one thing only to you: books
You're in desperate need of more bookshelves
You spend more hours online than is healthy
Getting comments on your posts make your day
HTML is both your best friend and your nebulous, confusing enemy
When people ask you for book recommendations, you can't just stop at one.
You know about books coming out years ahead of time, and consequently have to endure a rather agonizing wait.
New gadgets on blogger are the best thing since sliced bread
You can't stop tinkering with your template
You can hold an intelligent debate on the merits of a 2-column versus 3-column template for a book blog.
You've perfected the art of reading while eating/walking/talking for years.
You're pretty darn awesome.

What have I missed, dear readers? Add to the list in the comments :)

Dear YA

2011-02-05T13:18:00.000-08:00

A short summation of what I've been wondering/hoping about for YA:

DEAR YA:

If your protagonist is described as an honors student (as most seem to be), they'll more likely be kissing a textbook than a sparkly supernatural creature.

Sincerley,
Choco, currently-kissing-a-textbook

DEAR YA:

Where do your main characters find the time to save the world and everything?

Sincerely,
Choco, swamped.

DEAR YA:

It'd be cool if maybe some more of your characters were over 18.

Sincerely,
Choco, who likes this New Adult thing.

DEAR YA:

I wish there were more minority main characters. And more socioeconmically diverse characters.

Sincerly,
Choco, who would like wider representation.

What are some of your Dear YAs?

*okay so I fail at updating the blog but currently I am buried, BURIED under schoolwork. Sorry :)

Underappreciated books

2011-01-19T21:13:00.001-08:00

I think we all have one-- or maybe a few-- of those books that we love and cherish but that no one else has ever heard of. Books that are absolutely wonderful, but somehow managed to slip by nearly unnoticed by the reading world after publication. They're the books that are the NYT bestsellers and Printz medalists of our hearts, while in reality, they're a bit unloved as they sit dusty and lonesome upon book store shelves.

It's a bit sad, really, because a lot of the time, the NYT bestsellers aren't even the most quality books. Sometimes, the books that have have the least hullabaloo surrounding them are the best.

I started off this post intending to only showcase one, but I'm weak and I can't do it.

Take three instead:

1. Fly By Night by Frances Hardinge (my review). I really think this is a modern children's classic. It's not at all as popular as it should be.

2. The Savage Damsel and the Dwarf by Gerald Morris. I love Gerald Morris, but I don't think many people know about his books. But what's not to like about King Arthur retellings full of swashbuckling humor to boot?

3. The Last of the Really Great Whangoodles by Julie Andrews Edward: I hold my love for this book in the same compartment of my heart that's reserved for the Chronicles of Narnia. It's a childhood favorite of mine.

I wanted to add on I Capture the Castle as well, but I think people have heard about it since it has a movie and all. NOT ENOUGH, THOUGH.

Also, I still hold that Diana Wynne Jones is the most underappreciated writer ever. Seriously, she's like the queen of children's fantasy, yet she doesn't get half the love she deserves for her brilliance.

Ahem. If I don't stop naming books now, I won't ever.

What's your favorite "unknown" book? Let's give our underappreciated books some love!

Review: Fighting Ruben Wolfe by Markus Zusak

2011-01-17T15:47:00.000-08:00

I haven't posted much in the last week, sigh. But it's about time I did a book review.

Book Summary:

Cameron and Ruben Wolfe, are brothers from a family clinging to the ragged edge of the working class. Initially to make some money, the boys hook up with a sleazy fight promoter who sees something marketable, audience-pleasing in the untrained brothers’ vulnerability.

So they hide the boxing from their long-suffering mother. And Cameron hides what's going on in his head from the girls who come to the matches, the girls he wishes he could reach.

But the Wolfes soon find that they’re fighting for more than tips and pay-off money. It becomes for them a fight for identity, for dignity, and for each other.

The question is, in a fight like that, who makes it out of the ring intact?

My Opinion:

"She smiles pretty, and in that split second, I forget. I forget about Perry Cole and all those future punches. It makes me wonder, Do we spend most of our days trying to remember or forget things? Do we spend most of our time running toward or away from our lives? I don't know."

So wonders Cameron Wolfe, the big-hearted, tender protagonist of Fighting Ruben Wolfe. Passages like the one above--full of a quiet sort of wisdom, almost a ache to it--aren't uncommon in this book. They're plentiful, since in only 200 pages or so, Markus Zusak crafts a heartwarming, coming-of-age story full of beauty and uncanny insight. It' not surprising, given that this is the same author who wrote the magnificent The Book Thief and contemporary must-read I am The Messenger.

Yeah, that Zusak.

I haven't gone on a fangirl spiel about Zusak on this blog for a while, so some of you might not know that I'm, well, an obsessive fangirl about his works, to put it lightly. I've been trying to track down a reasonably priced Fighting Ruben Wolfe for the longest time, and last week, I finally managed to snatch up a cheap copy on Amazon.

It arrived yesterday.

I devoured it instead of breakfast.

This is the second book I've read about Cameron Wolfe, having caved and read Getting the Girl, the sequel, a while back. It doesn't really matter though, since even though this novel is part of a 3-book series, each book is standalone.

I loved it.

I love it because it's like an early sneak-peak of Zusak. If you start with the Cam books, move to I am the Messenger, and finish at The Book Thief, you can see a clear progression. The prose becomes more refined. The subject topic, more serious. The books, longer.

Still, you get the trademark Zusak: the swaggering sentence fragments, the standalone single-sentence paragraphs falling in quick succession down a page, the wonderful writing that steals your breath away, the characters that are so real that you can almost hear their hearts beating in between the pages.

I'm quite convinced that the Wolfe family are real people. Cameron, the main character, has a voice that's memorable. He's the boy who cares too much about everybody, who's scrawny and a little bit like a loser, who yearns for a girl to notice him, who's afraid, but who'll fight for anything, his heart is so big. Ruben is his brother--hungry, wolfish, trying to prove something. Then there's his tired mother, his out-of-work father, older siblings Sarah and Steve, and a house full of unpaid bills and encroaching despair.

When the brothers get their chance at money and a bit of glory by fighting in underground boxing ring, they seize the day. But really, this book isn't just about throwing punches, since all the action is secondary to the character growth. The brothers earn themselves a bit of self-respect, they mature, and their sibling relationship--it just expands, till you can feel the love the two brothers have for each other, till you can feel the love the whole Wolfe family has for each other. The Wolfe brothers' relationship really comes out in the passages at the end of every chapter--short conversations the brothers have before they fall asleep.

Then, there's the prose. When it's Zusak, you can expect to be blown away. Here's one of the many passages that made me stop reading so I could just sit and take in:

"We run together in track pants and old football jerseys and the city is awake and smoky-cold and our heartbeats jangle through the streets. We're alive. Our footsteps are folded neatly, one after the other. Rube's curly hair collides with sunlight. The light steps at us between the buildings. The train line is fresh and sweet and the grass in Belmore Park has the echoes of dew still on it. Our hands are cold. Our veins are warm. Our throats suck in the winter breath of the city, and I imagine people still in bed, dreaming. To me it, feels good. Good city. Good world, with two wolves running through it, looking of the fresh meat of their lives. Chasing it. Chasing hard even though they fear it. They run anyway."

The hair colliding with sunlight part...that just killed me. It really did.

So, what I've been meaning to say as I've bumbled around in this review, throwing words out left and right, is that I wish this book was readily available in every bookstore. It's beautifully written, and it's one of those books that YA readers need more of. For one thing, it's a boy book. For another, it's a contemporary book with an original plot (nope, no dead characters here) with characters and conflicts that are real.

I just plain wish this book was easier to get a hold of.

If you're a dedicated Zusak fan, I'd definitely recommend that you do the best you can to get a hold of this, short of murder. If you're just a reader who is hungering for a lovely contemporary read, take a look around and see if you can't snatch up a copy somehow.

Rating: 9/10. Don't be scared off by the whole boxing premise. I have zero interest in boxing but I still loved this book.

Waiting on Wednesday

2011-01-12T16:09:00.000-08:00

This week's pick: Where She Went by Gayle Forman

Summary (Courtesy of Goodreads):

It's been three years since the devastating accident ... three years since Mia walked out of Adam's life forever.

Now living on opposite coasts, Mia is Julliard's rising star and Adam is LA tabloid fodder, thanks to his new rock star status and celebrity girlfriend. When Adam gets stuck in New York by himself, chance brings the couple together again, for one last night. As they explore the city that has become Mia's home, Adam and Mia revisit the past and open their hearts to the future - and each other.

Told from Adam's point of view in the spare, lyrical prose that defined If I Stay, Where She Went explores the devastation of grief, the promise of new hope, and the flame of rekindled romance.

I thought If I Stay (review) was an absolutely beautiful book--bittersweet and thoughtful, and full of lovely characters and well-written prose. It was definitely one of my favorites from 2009 releases.

So of course, I'm extremely excited about Where She Went. This is one of the rare occasions I've come across where a contemporary book that fits into this YA niche of walking the line between commercial and literary has come out with a sequel. I'm particularly curious to see what Adam's voice will be like.

The only thing I don't like is the cover. Sure, it's pretty, but I much prefer the original If I Stay design--this book looks like it's trying to attract the readers of something like Gossip Girl, when really it should be aiming for the readers of Looking for Alaska or Jellicoe Road.

Release Date: April 5th 2011
Goodreads page

I'm okay with YA protagonists that are over 18 years old. Actually, I'd like to have more of that, please.

2011-01-08T15:58:00.000-08:00

What's got me thinking:*

Lately, I've been encountering a lot of discussions on whether college age protagonists in young adult books are allowed, or if you can even call it a young adult book if the main character doesn't fall into the Holy YA Age Range of 12-18 years old. Among the publishing community, the general consensus seems to be that protagonists out of high school are a tough sell. The comments of "but college students don't read, so there's no market for it" and "teens don't relate to protagonists that are are college aged" are always thrown in there somewhere during the discussion, which generally results in everyone agreeing and deciding to lower their main character's age to 18 or under.

As a teen reader, I'm going, what? STOP THAT.

On Age & Reading Habits

I'm sixteen, in case you're wondering.

That doesn't stop me from wanting to read about characters older than 18. I'd sure as heck love to go into the Young Adult section and pick up a book about a college freshman adjusting to their new life of freedom, stumbling around a huge campus, fighting with their roomate, and groaning about cafeteria food and being a poor student. I'd sure as heck love to read a book about a protagonist that sets off on an adventure after they graduate from high school, or who's just taken up training as a cop or joined the army or taken a job you can't do while still in school. I'd love it to bits if anyone wrote a book about a college junior's experience as a study abroad student.

I'd lap that stuff right up. Mostly importantly, I'd buy it if I saw it in the Young Adult section.

I'm an older teen. For the most part, in real life, I have no stomach for the heartaches of a 12-year-old, and I don't think I can completely grasp (I can empathize with, sure) the troubles a 50-year-old might be facing, since I haven't experienced it myself. But that doesn't stop me from relating to and being interested in fiction featuring 12-year-old protagonists, 16-year-old protagonists, and 50-year-old protagonists. It explains why the odd teen (me) or adult can't be wrenched away from the middle grade section, while boys my age have been reading fiction about 30-year-old fantasy heroes since they were 13.

Age doesn't matter as much as you'd think.

Maybe it does in real life, but it doesn't in fiction.

This is especially true since 99.9% of young adult books are being written by adults. There's a certain distance there, so that for the most part, I couldn't differentiate between a YA 15-year-old and a 18-year-old protagonist in terms of maturity and the conflicts they face if my life depended upon it. It's all pretty flexible in YA, when it comes to a few years. **

From what I've observed, children and teen readers tend to read up. As a 5th grader, I was curious to find out what middle school was like, and I sated some of that curiosity by reading a bunch of books where the protagonists were 13. I didn't have a problem at all relating to these older main characters. By middle school, I was reading books with high school protagonists, wondering if that's what it'd really be like once I got there.

Now that I'm a high school senior, I'm left either with older teen characters or adult characters. There's no bridge in between though. Just a huge gorge, and publishers saying, "JUMP ALREADY." I rarely find a book featuring a college freshman or a 20-year-old. In fact, I can't even think of one I've read lately off the top of my head.

But I'm still curious. I'd like to know what I'm in for. I think most people my age would like to know. What college is like, what renting your first apartment is like, what starting your career is like.

Most importantly, I think they'd read about it. Perhaps even prefer it over the tales of a high school freshman, or maybe even over the tales of characters their current age. It's a possibility. Maybe that explains why the college students I do know tend to read adult fiction. They're looking out for what's next for them.

New Adult

I feel like I can't talk about older protagonists without mentioning New Adult. I first heard of New Adult when St. Martin put on it's "New Adult" Submissions Contest in November 2009, and the resulting buzz crackled through the internet until it even reached me. For those of you who haven't heard of New Adult, I think of it as a more sharply defined categorization for books that have crossover appeal (books that can be sold and marketed as both YA and adult fiction) and it seems to have become viable in the last few years due to the fact that YA has become such a popular genre.

St Martin's described it as this:

"...[n]ew, cutting edge fiction with protagonists who are slightly older than YA and can appeal to an adult audience. Since twenty-somethings are devouring YA, St. Martin’s Press is seeking fiction similar to YA that can be published and marketed as adult—a sort of an “older YA” or “new adult.”

And from reading Kristan Hoffman's article in Guide to Literary Agents, New Adult will likely feature protagonists from 18-26 years old. As she says:

"But the transition from teen to adult doesn’t happen overnight either. There’s a period of time where adulthood feels like a new pair of shoes. The expectations of independence and self-sufficiency are still new, still being broken in. New Adults are the people who have just begun to walk in those shoes; New Adult fiction is about their blisters and aches."

New Adult is supposed to be geared towards older teens, college kids, and adults who are well, new to adulthood.

And I'm going: YES YES YES.

I'd like some of that.

Where's the barricade?

But I'm wondering, why aren't there any books out there already where protagonists are older than 18? Why does this have to be a new thing? Why can't I just stroll into the bookstore right now and pick up Minnie's College Adventures, Book One?

I'm not saying there aren't books like that out there. There are crossovers and college books, scattered around somewhere, I'm sure, but I don't think there's a sizable amount.

The problem is that they're not easily accessible in the young adult section. I think they should be. At least part of it, I think , is due to this misconception that I admit I'm having trouble wrapping my head around as I skim through all the blogs and threads and articles I've been reading about this age dilemma. But this is what I've gathered: YA writers who are worried about writing about older protagonists seem to point the fingers at publishers and agents who either call for a protagonist's age to be lowered or term a book with a older main character a "tough sell." Then publishers and bookstores just go on and point the fingers at readers, saying there isn't a market.

I think there is one. I think of the defining characteristic of young adult fiction as coming-of-age. I think a lot of people are coming-of-age during college or even when they're 25, and therefore it can still be YA, if an author decides that's what the character is going to be going through. What's more, I want those books in YA.

Fellow teens and young adult readers, would you be interested in fiction about college aged protagonists? Would you buy books featuring main characters in the so-called dead zone of 18-26 years old? Do you think there's a need for more of it, or are you content with what's already out there?

Maybe I'm just weird in craving older protagonists appearing on Young Adult shelves, but I'm hoping not.

*I'm hoping a post of this nature hasn't been written already, as I've been out of the loop for a bit.
**In real life, no. Those little freshman squirts are confused and lost and hopeless. Seniors know what they're doing, at least to some extent. Actually... on second thought, perhaps yes. I think I'm pretty much the same as I was a few years ago. I guess it's a bit of both.

Reorganizing my bookshelves (a tale told gif-style)

2011-01-06T20:38:00.000-08:00

So today I finally gathered up my courage and set about trying to tidy my ~~SO HORRENDOUSLY MESSY EVEN A TROLL WOULD BE GROSSED OUT BY IT~~ slightly messy bedroom.

At first I was like:

No, why am I doing this? Please don't make me.

And then I became resigned to it. I had to buckle down and woman up and today was the day I was going to pick up my clothes, just like a mature person of sixteen should.

About an hour in, I was exhausted. Yep, you heard me right, moving featherweight papers about is exhausting.

I felt like giving up, collapsing on the couch, and nibbling on some chocolate.

But I didn't. Tree-fulls of paper were disposed off. Candy wrappers went kapoof. Dirty mugs were returned to the kitchen sink.

My room is now gloriously beautiful. There's light. There's air. There's room.

I CAN FIND EVERYTHING.

That's right.

But anyways, gif* spamming aside, I just really wanted to share the results I got, book-wise, since I managed to do some reorganizing while cleaning.

I still have my main three bookshelves in my closet, but I'm donating a huge stack of books ( learn how to write cursive! & star wars, the novels! types), which freed up some prime real estate space.**

Here's what it looks like:

The right side of the shelf is full of my "favorite books/ books I need at a fingertips' reach." Since I'm such a changeable person, I intend it to be a rotating sort of thing. For instance, I'm about to chuck Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close's butt right outta there. I wish I could find my copy of I Capture the Castle--the shelf looks wrong without it. But anyhow, close up:

I doubt you guys can read the titles, so here they are from left to right:

1. Beloved by Toni Morrison
2. Lost Conspiracy by Frances Hardinge (placeholder until I can find Fly By Night for this spot.)
3. The Chronicles of Chrestomanci by Diana Wynne Jones
4. Howl's Moving Castle By Diana Wynne Jones
5. Jellicoe Road by Melina Marchetta
6. 3 Volumes of the literary magazine, Poetry.
7. White Shroud by Allen Ginsberg
8. Grimm's Fairy Tales
7. Good Poems Edited by Garrison Kellior
8. The Absolutely True Diary of a Part Time Indian by Sherman Alexie
9. The Book Thief by Markus Zusak
10. Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte
11. Looking for Alaska by John Green
12. Selected Poems by Gwendolyn Brooks
13. Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov
14. Atonement by Ian McEwan
15. Cracked Up to Be Courtney Summers
16. Looking for Alibrandi by Melina Marchetta
17. Wintergirls by Laurie Halse Anderson
18. Hold Still by Nina LaCour
19. Paper Towns by John Green
20. The Road by Cormac McCarthy
21. The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald
22. The Journals of Sylvia Plath
23. Margaret Atwood Selected Poems
24. The Blind Assasain by Margaret Atwood
25. Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer
26. The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson
Now for the ones stacked on top
27. The Merlin Conspiracy by Diana Wynne Jones
28. Making Your Own Days Kenneth Koch
29. Poem a Day
30. Margaret Atwood Selected Poems II
31. The Magic Thief
32. The Last of the Really Great Whangdoodles by Julie Andrews
33. I am the Messenger by Markus Zusak
34. Flora Segunda by Ysabeau Wilce
35. Harry Potter
36. My Poetry Journal

Oh dear god, I didn't realize there were quite that many books in that shelf. I bothered typing it out though, because I'd basically recommend each book I listed, for different reasons. Some are childhood favorites, some are new favorites, some are YA books with a particular voice or style that I want to look at more closely, and some are just the best books I've ever read in my life.

Anyways, the left side consists of books that are on my TBR pile, books that I've been meaning to re-read or go back to and ponder for a great length of time, and books that I need to review. Basically, my "get started on it" pile.

There's far too many books on there for me to list, but towards the right, there's a whole lot of Hemingway, Woolf, Atwood, Morrison, and Faulkner. To the left is more of Young Adult reads.

Anyhow, hope you enjoyed!

What's the state of your bookshelves and to be read piles at the moment?

Edited to add: Of course, AFTER I publish the post and write out all those titles, I realize you can click on the picture and see all the titles perfectly well. LOL.

Anyhow, I'll leave you guys with this. I swear it's the most adorable thing I've seen in my whole existence.

*I would credit the gifs, but I plucked all of these out of tumblr where they weren't credited, so I don't know who made them. BUT THANK YOU for making livening up this post, nameless gif-makers!
**I call it prime space because it's the shelf near to my computer, so if I really wanted to, I could ~~just not get up from my chair ever and lean over with no effort whatsover to~~ *** pick up a book to read anytime.
***Boy, you really get a sense of how hopelessly lazy and messy I can be in this post, don't you? hahahahahaha.

my january 5th resolutions

2011-01-05T13:22:00.001-08:00

I'll admit the last bit of 2010 slipped past me unnoticed as ~~I braved the torturous trial of college apps~~ reveled in wonderland.

But now that I have my wits about me, I feel I ought to do some resolutions. Late ones, of course, but self-improvement is always a good thing to think about.

Before I start my own, I'd like to share Virginia Woolf's resolutions, which I find quite fascinating:

January 2, 1931:
Here are my resolutions for the next 3 months; the next lap of the year.
To have none. Not to be tied.
To be free & kindly with myself, not goading it to parties: to sit rather privately reading in the studio.
To make a good job of The Waves.
To stop irritation by the assurance that nothing is worth irritation [referring to Nelly].
Sometimes to read, sometimes not to read.
To go out yes—but stay at home in spite of being asked.
As for clothes, to buy good ones.

January 4, 1936:
To read as few weekly papers…as possible [until The Years is finished];
to fill my brain with remote books & habits;
altogether to be as fundamental & as little superficial, to be as physical & as little apprehensive, as possible.

Now, for my own:

BLOGGING-WISE:

to blog nearly daily and to let my thoughts roam & gallivant & grow across this little nook of the internet ~~like mold~~ as much as possible. This is how I will do it: since I can't seem to fall asleep right away anymore, I will think of topics right before I drift off to dreamland, and write a post the next day.

to catch up on all the review copies I have lying around, and to be more timely in the future with my dealings with authors and publicists

to enact a new meme that I had an idea for yesterday, where I'll share a poem I've read that I like once a week or once every two weeks and comment on it.

to strive to make sure I have a perfect balance of somewhat silly posts and more serious, contemplative posts.

to comment more on other blogs, and to properly thank the lovely people who do comment on mine.

to once and for all settle on a header I like.

And I figure I need to get some personal resolutions down in permanent ink. So here's mine:

PERSONAL:

to keep a dream journal regularly

to walk the dogs every day

to turn away from less productive pursuits, i.e. watching tv and movies and browsing other nodes of the internet where I'm only an inactive observer. Instead, I should read, read, read and blog, blog, blog. If I can find a way to make the unproductive productive (i.e. watch tv for the purpose of learning how to screenwrite, then that would be lovely.)

to be altogether more kindly to the people in my life

to consider each word I say with great care

to finish another practice novel with all the trimmings: many, many drafts, many revisions, many beta runs, and much agonizing

write everyday: whether it be through blogging, school and scholarship essays, dream journal, new novel, poetry, short story, or free writes

to strive to fill my mind with new knowledge ; to go the library and rent out tomes of books so that I will be someday able to converse intelligently about Dadaism and Plato and music and to by the end of the year, know twice as much as I know now.

to be more confident

to care less about things that don't matter and to care more about things that do

to not let it get in my way that many people have more resources and advantages than I do in terms of their education, and to instead create my own opportunities to learn and grow. But to also be thankful and keep in mind that I'm lucky to have the resources and advantages I do, since some people don't.

to once and for all clean up my careless commas, ponder my usage of dashes, and to fix my horrendously awful use of semicolons, which I'm sure you've all had to suffer through.

And that's about it, I think.

What are some of your resolutions?

hypothetical bookish situation #4: if j.k. rowling wrote a harry potter prequel

2011-01-04T18:44:00.001-08:00

So I reread the whole Harry Potter series last week ~~(nope, I don't have a life. MY LIFE IS HARRY POTTER),~~ and realized that the last HP movie would be coming out this year. HP is coming to an end in 2011.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

But I'm ~~foolishly hopeful~~ an optimist when it comes to J.K. Rowling's intentions. Filled with fizzy, floaty optimism and buoyant thoughts of Harry Potter, I start daydreaming.

And then I think...

What if she wrote a Harry Potter prequel? (Think le Dumbledore and le Grindewald escapades. Or le James and Lily Potter escapades at le Hogwarts. Yes.)

*le gasp*

my face at the thought of this happening for real:

source

Just think, in addition to these:

WE COULD HAVE...HMM....LET ME WHIP OUT ~~PHOTOSHOP~~ MY POLYJUICING BOOK COVER SKILLS AND THINK DEEPLY ON THIS MATTER. *

How about:

1. James Potter and the Marauder's Map

James Potter has just begun his second year at the Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, and is happy to be back with the friends he made as a first-year: fellow Gryffindors Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew.

He's ready to get back to trouble-making, face off with greasy rival Severus Snape with a jinx or two, and win over green-eyed Lily Evans.

But once at Hogwarts, James discovers that Remus is a werewolf. In the wizarding world, werewolves aren't good news...but James , Sirius, and Peter are determined to help their friend as much as possible.

It's going to take all of the Marauders' cleverness and effort to make this work. Perhaps becoming an Animagi will help. Perhaps creating an all-knowing map of Hogwarts will solve all their problems and allow the Marauders to bend more rules than ever...that is, if they don't get caught.

2. Albus Dumbledore and the Elder Wand

Albus Dumbledore has always been gifted and destined for greatness. He's just finished his final year at Hogwarts with top marks and is set to embark on a Grand Tour of the world with his best friend Elphias Doge.

But tragedy soon strikes: his emotionally-scarred sister Ariana, who can't control her magic, accidentally kills his mother. Now head of the family, Albus is forced to return to Godric's Hollow, where all his ambitions and skills are going to waste as he's left to the mind-numbing task of taking care of Ariana.

But then he meets Gellert Grindelwald. Brilliant Gellert, whose charisma and talent immediately attract Albus. Soon, the two are inseparable, and together, they concoct plans that will make them the most powerful wizards in history and put Muggles in their place--if only they can find the long-lost Deathly Hallows...

***
And now I'm thinking: a world with these books in them would be a better world.

IF J.K ROWLING ACTUALLY WROTE THEM:

the world would be full of sunshine and unicorns and HOPE.

Rowling would make several more truckloads of money from rabid fans

people like me would once again have a purpose in life

more movies! more midnight release parties! more books for my Harry Potter collection!

I think I would cry from happiness. Basically.

Now, if we could just perform inception on J.K. Rowling's mind...

*just in case there's any confusion: the book summaries and covers are fakes by me. No copyright infringement intended. The faux covers are modeled off of the adult HP covers.

18 random thoughts

2010-12-30T21:19:00.001-08:00

1. I can't believe it'll soon be 2011. Time is funny. It's unregulated, you see: it goes far too fast and slow and altogether strangely to be understood.

2. Reading rehabilitation is going quite smoothly.

3. In fact, I'd like to say I'm doing quite well. Reading about two books a day for the last two weeks: Diana Wynne Jones, mostly, and I reread the whole Harry Potter series.

4. Deathly Hallows is actually quite magnificent, once you get past the whole tramping through the countryside part.

5. Christmas didn't feel like Christmas.

6. The only things on my wishlist this year were two books (Geek Love & Pale Fire), but somehow I ended up getting many things. Presents just muddle me, because suddenly I have new things, too suddenly, and I push it off to the side because I'm not sure what to do with all the new stuff.It's a bit overwhelming.

7. The walls of my cheaply-built neighborhood are too thin. I can hear my neighbor from two houses down, and he's inside. So am I.

8.I have immense respect for Neil Gaiman. He dips back and forth between children and adult books, and writes fantasy in a way that's lovely. He's a wonderful writer; even though none of his books are my favorites; it's hard to explain. I just respect his writing a lot.

9. Nearly finished with American Gods by Gaiman, you see. The storyline is in a way dense--whirling off to long-ago tales and coming back to present-day; but it's rich, like a cheesecake of a book.

10. You know how once you hear about a book or an author, you keep hearing about it everywhere? The authoress this is happening with right now is Anais Nin. I have yet to read anything by her, though. I think I might have to.

11. I've decided I loathe furniture.

12. It's funny how you can look back on things that at the time you thought were so cool and realize that now, suddenly, you don't like it at all. This has been happening to me with: photos, especially those hipster-y ones; to some extent, Jonathan Safran Foer, who is obnoxiously smug in his interviews and whose writing is actually pretty gimmicky; and especially comic sans, which I thought was okay when I was ten. However, things that I used to not like but am now warming too: egg drop soup, freckles, and the color yellow.

13. I am actually superstitious of the number 13.

14. I am quite anxious about the Hunger Games movie. I'm actually quite pessimistic about it; it occurs to me that the strength of HG is Katniss' voice and internal monologue; and that this will probably not be translated into movie form. Also, I don't even like action movies as much; and I'm horrified at the thought of some terrible Disney teen actors being cast. Basically, I'm afraid of a botched job.

15. On the other hand, I've decided that Hailee Steinfield, girl-star of that the Coen's latest film, True Grit, would be beyond awesome from the role, and that I'd actually be a bit disappointed if she wasn't cast. I mean, this girl has got the acting chops- she stole the show during True Grit.

16. It's a good thing you only apply to college once, because I don't think it's humanly possible to do it another time. I'm not even sure I can do it this time.

17. I know too much British slang, and I have no opportunity to use it.

18. HAPPY HOLIDAYS, YOU LOVELY FOLLOWERS!

reading rehabilitation: stage one (tales)

2010-12-11T18:36:00.000-08:00

Lately, I haven't been reading. So I've decided to institute a reading rehabilitation program, in which I'll relive my reading life.

Today, I spent an hour or two uselessly looking for picture books and copies of Junie B. Jones or Captain Underpants, my 2nd grade favorites.

My house, in case I haven't yet mentioned, is a labyrinth of dust and dilapidated junk. Going looking for something is never a good idea.

I started with The Parent Closet.

The light broke a year or two ago, and we haven't bothered to get it repaired. Groping around in the darkness, I managed to hit my knee, elbow, and toe quite painfully against a stuffed animal, a wooden chest, and a stack of books. But I couldn't find the flaslight necessary to navigate more than a step away from the door. I decided to give up, since it was pitch dark, and we didn't yet have a hard helmet. Y'know, looking for picture books isn't exactly the way I want to head out.

So I turned to my room.

At some point last year, in a uncharacteristic fit of purpose, I organized my personal library alphabetically. By this time, basically all the picture books and early elementary favorites had disappeared, never to come back, into either the yawning abyss of my parent's closet or into the used book piles at my local library.

So I pawed over my bedroom, looking in dusty nooks and crannies. I retrieved two books: my copy of Grimm's Fairy Tales and a rather beaten up picture book called Tomie de Paola's Favorite Nursery Tales. I looked some more, screamed when I encountered a spider, retreated into the living room, and decided that I didn't want to risk my life anymore.

Right-o.

There it occurs to me that I did alright. These books I've found are tales that I listened to before I knew what words where, and perhaps this is chronologically first in my reading life.

But oh, Tomie de Paola has such lovely drawings. The book starts:

How am I to sing your praise,
Happy chimney-corner days,
Sitting safe in nursery nooks,
Reading picture story-books?

Among the tales, there's "Johnny Cake," "The Little Red Hen," and one of my favorites, "The Princess and the Pea," all lushly illustrated and written.

I feel happy reading these stories, only a few pages in length. And picture books are actually pretty well-written.

I smile when I get to this part in The Princess and the Pea:

"Oh terribly badly!" said the Princess. "I have scarcely shut my eyes the whole night. Heaven only knows what was in the bed, but I was lying on something hard, so that I am black and blue all over my body. It is really terrible."

& also the mantra of laziness in Little Red Hen. "Not I," "Not I," "Not I."

The thing is, you can't go back and read a childhood book without remembering the years and times you've heard these stories, and loved them, and how ingrained they are in you, to have resided in your brain for so long. It's lovely, returning to them.

When I turn to Grimm's Fairy Tales (cover at left) I find a little surprise. It's my very first book review written on the last page. A one-liner.

"Hi this is Meg it is June 8 2002 and I am eight. This is book is sorta boring sorta interesting. I have less than a week until school ends. Fridays and Saturdays our my favorite days. I like sports a lot and I am really good at them. P.S. The reason I am writing this is because I want to remember what I was like in this grade." Then I have this bit where it says J3 M2 F1 A2 D1 N1 O1 S1. and then "Meg when you see this and wonder what this means I did this when I was 8."

Pfft. Counting how many months start with each letter? I must have been bored. (Here, I suddenly remember my habit of hiding messages just like this for me to find when I was older. I have a few tucked and hidden away in my room, I recall, but I don't remember where.) But what, since when is Grimm's Fairy Tales boring? ARE YOU KIDDING ME, KIDDO? I MEAN, FREAKING CINDERELLA'S SISTERS CUT BITS OF THEIR FEET OFF, WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT IN TERMS OF CLIMAX, HUH?

Thank goodness I came to my senses. I love Grimm's Fairy Tales so much. This book is beautifully illustrated as well. It's action packed, full of talking animals and magic and princesses and princes set off to find their fortunes, and quite a lot of true love. Also, castles.*

It's full of magical sentences. Literally. And also those typical fairy tale sentences. I flip through, reading bits and pieces.

"He took up plow, harrow, horses and all, and carried them home like a bundle of straw."
"Then the wedding of the Prince and Briar Rose was celebrated with all splendor, and they lived happily till they died."
"And he marveled at her beauty, her royal garments, and the start on her forehead."
"Queen thou art of beauty rare
But Snow-White living in the glen
With seven little men
Is a thousand ties more fair."

Oh, these tales. So wondrous. Ones we all know, in some form.

I don't have time to read all 362 pages of Grimm's Fairy Tales today. I have the rather pressing matter of finals to study for. But I'll be keeping it nearby, to read during lulls in the day.

It's hard to describe the feeling I'm getting, reacquainting myself with these tales that bring up memories every time I flip a page. It's a sort of fullness, I'm feeling. This sense that, somewhere, all these stories I've read and heard are still there, ready to be summoned. And the feeling that it's just amazing to know that in each of us, there are stories, waiting to be told and heard and remembered. That we carry them with us every day, and that we're millions of stories jostling each other, full of so many words and plots that aren't ours.

This is kinda my mini-epiphany of the day.

* I have a particular interest in castles, seeing as I intend to live in one one day.**
** What? It's a totally reasonable goal. Also, I have a lot of experience with dilapidation in my current house, so I'll do better than most with mold and creaky towers.***
*** DON'T LAUGH AT MY DREAMSSSSS.

i'm sure you're all tired about me talking about getting my blogging-pants on, and then not actually following through, but here it goes

2010-12-10T20:17:00.001-08:00

I feel like I've written this post several times before. It goes something like this: YOU GUYS I AM SUPER, LIKE SUPER DUPER SORRY & I WILL BLOG AGAIN SOON, AND OH YEAH EVERYTHING WILL BE LIKE IT USED TO BE.

Well, after a whole month of not posting anything, I'll be honest: I don't think I'll ever get back to those glorious months where blogging was at the forefront of my mind, where I raced home from school and switched on the computer first thing, catching up on blogs I followed and then proceeding to write my own posts. Those were the days where I spent two or more hours on the blogosphere everyday & loved every minute of it; loved talking about the books I had read that week, the newest thing in YA, what YA really is, what other bloggers were saying, what authors were saying, and arguably most importantly, what I liked about chocolate.

That just doesn't happen anymore.

But, I've realized something, something I touched upon in me, blogging. Blogging has had too much of a positive impact on my life. What I'm doing now with the time I used to spend on blogging isn't an improvement at all. I'm, in effect, wasting my time looking at things (photos, TV, blank word docs), and not creating things or thinking actively like I did with blogging. Blogging really helped me grow as a reader, a writer, and a communicator--I was forced to think analytically about each book I read, picking over the faults and merits, pinning down what I felt after reading a book, why I felt it, and what the author had accomplished. Then, when it came time to write book reviews, I had to sit down, and figure out what language and what expression would communicate just what I felt, in an at least somewhat-appealing style. My reviewing improved as the months went on. So did my sense of a "blogging voice."

At one point, I was reading 10 books a week. Not reviewing all of them, of course, but readingreadingreading every time I exhaled, every free minute of the day, cramming in words whenever I could.

Then, I began to suffocate.

Books piled up. Books I couldn't get into, especially because I felt pressured to deliver with REVIEWS ON TIME, when oh heck noes, I couldn't think about that, I had school and friends and family and activities to think about.

Then, came my dislike of the repetitiveness. I got tired of posting memes, so I mostly discontinued that. I got tired of the way I was writing reviews. I got tired of YA. I got tired of sitting down and writing posts.

And now, I'm tired of reading.

I can't even bear to say it aloud. So I'll whisper it. I don't read anymore.

Reading has defined my life. I always was a reader. I read when I was unhappy or happy. I read because I wanted a story I could dive into. First it was magic, adventure, and imagination that had me addicted. Then it was a matrix of language, soft-feather language, soft-slow smooth language, strong-song language.

My attention span has a length of about 5 seconds now. I can't keep my eyes glued to the page. I close books more often than I open then. I say, "meh," when I read or "maybe later."

I can't bear it anymore.

It's like a huge chunk of me is gone, this word-loving reader writer escapist who had a second-home in books.

I have to do something to change this.

So I'm instituting a reading-rehabilitation program. I'm starting bottom-up. Slow steps, here. I think, first will be my old picture books, Junie B. Jones, and then Roald Dahl, if I can find them. Next, Harry Potter, oh yes. Then Diana Wynne Jones, oh how I love you, Ms. Jones. A period of YA, for sure. And some literature after that.

I'm reliving my reading life. & I think I would also like to blog about that. I think. I really want to follow through with this.

If you guys are still there, I'd be honored if you listened. I was thinking that perhaps I should move my blog to a different address--I feel overwhelmed by the followers, quite honestly--but I haven't decided.

At the moment, I'm going to stay at in which a girl reads. See if I can pump a little life and a little love into this blog.

Oh, and yeah. I am no longer accepting books for review. UNLESS IF YOU ARE DIANA WYNNE JONES. IF SO I LOVE YOU AND I AM YOUR SLAVE FOREVER, OKAY?

dear sylvia

2010-11-15T20:35:00.000-08:00

i finally got around to writing the first post in what i intend to be a series of letters to authors/ icons that i love. and i even threw in a photo i took at the bottom (i probably should have snagged something pretty from wehearit, but somehow, i felt this post should be all me.)

(p.s. imissyouguys&willtrytonavigatemywaypastthemoldofthisblogandseeifican'tlivenitupa little.)

phew, what a mouthful!

anywho.

***

dear sylvia:

i want to tell you so many things.

yesterday, i realized i would be done reading your journals tomorrow or this week or the next. finishing is like coming to the end of a long, beautiful journey. i’ve traversed across the pages of your words and your thoughts and your frustrations and your life for a few months now.

i’m not sure though, if i’m ready to end this journey.
you see, i’ve done something with your journals that i’ve never do with books.

i’ve savored.

i read slowly, each word forming gradually in my mind. i thought about each word you penned; the way you put these words together; and i realized what you were doing. you were making sure your writings didn’t just hold a surface beauty; similes or metaphors that punctuated the page but quickly were forgotten. instead, your words were held up, strengthened, fortified-- by your sense of rhythm and the music of your language.

and that is why i took my time—am taking my time—reading your journals.

i bought your journals in a humid summer day in a bookshop thousands of miles away from my home, plucked it from shelves of slim chapbooks and fat poetry collections. i’d already treasured the bell jar; lines like:

“If neurotic is wanting two mutually exclusive things at one and the same time, then I'm neurotic as hell”
&
“I took a deep breath and listened to the old bray of my heart: I am, I am, I am,”
have seemed particularly lovely; have meant something to me.

i thought the bell jar was a good book, but not mind-blowing.
i’d read your poetry, and loved it, loved it to bits. everything about it: your confessional style, your evocative imagery, your uncanny ability to make me physically feel your words.
i didn’t know what to expect from your journals.
i was underestimating you, ms. plath.

right now i am thinking of my strange habit of wanting to read you in the skies. on airplanes. your words have a other-worldly, incandescent feel to them, so i guess it makes sense.

but then i realize i read you under the soft shallows of the evening light as well. the pages yellow under my fingertips and the outlines of your words underneath.

“I am beating all my wings," is one of my favorite lines.

but before i go too long without really saying anything, i wanted to thank you. i turn one page and i read a line of yours and i feel something, i feel like i’m reading greatness. i mean it. your words make me feel like there’s something undeniably beautiful in the world that i should be looking for. your sudden-surges of brilliance—these particular, melodic lines—the ones that spring out every once in a while, that take me by surprise again and again—thank you for them.

i recently read ariel. i still feel mesmerized, somewhat disoriented, from the power of your words, in such a compact form. i feel like i’ve read something life-changing.

right, now, i have four words singing in my bones. they were all that i could think of when i stared out into the river.

sincerely,
choco.

the madness that is NaNoWriMo

2010-11-02T17:32:00.000-07:00

So, this is my first year trying out a little thing called NaNoWriMo. (read: the craziest month of your life up to date.) Basically. this entails beginning and finishing a 50,000 word novel within the space of November 1-30. Yeah, pure craziness.

It's only the second day and already my life has become a slave to NaNo. I don't normally think of myself of a competitive person, but right now, I can't bear the thought of losing this thing. Of hanging my head down and saying on Nov 30, "Yeah, I only got 30,000 words in." And seeing the word counts of my NaNo buddies (yeesh, one of the insane ones already hit 10k!) is making me step up my writing game, too.

Can I even begin to explain the change brought upon me by NaNo? Who needs Physics lectures when you can think about racing home and churning out 1k of your latest chapter? Who needs to eat when you can subsist on your words forming on the screen in front of you? Who needs anything in November but the insanity of NaNo? (uhh, okay, I definitely need Thanksgiving. But everything else? Socializing? Free Time? Sooooo overrated.)

Unfortunately, the thing I've noticed about myself as a writer is that if I'm writing one type of thing, I have little to no urge to write any other type of thing. It kind of goes like this:

1) do a lot of blogging, but not a lot of creative writing
2) do a lot of creative writing, but not a lot of blogging
a. Write a lot of poetry, but no prose
b. Write a lot of short stories, but no novel.
c. Write nothing but a novel.

Right now I'm right smack-dab at 2c. I think I'm going to pull out the big guns for blogging though; I have an idea for a series of posts that I'm excited about, so we'll see how that goes.

For the moment, though, I'm practically sweating out words. Pulling a plot out of thin air. Punching in words every chance I get.

It's a bit like being caught up in a tornado. A word tornado.

So, any of you participating in NaNo? Or can you, as a past participant, sympathize?
AND HEY, it's only Nov 2nd so you can still JOIN USSSS and not be too far behind!

the process of writing your personal statement

2010-10-20T17:37:00.000-07:00

1. Not writing
2. Not writing
3. Not writing
4. Watching TV.
5. Not writing
6. Eating cheese
7. BLARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! You beat your chest in the manner of Tarzan. Grumble, grumble.
8. Break from staring at the intensity of a blank computer screen, in which you trace the route of dust particles floating in the air, and soul-search. You ponder: am I a coffee or tea kind of being?
You ask yourself: why am I incapable of writing an essay about myself?
You are stumped when faced with: What challenges have you faced? (First thing that pops into your mind: THERE'S NO CHOCOLATE IN THE HOUSE, EVER. Second thing: THIS DARN ESSAY.)
8. More not writing
9. You wonder if "eating a Harry Potter book" (well, not a whole one, and hey, you were eight and thus pardoned as a BOOK-MURDERER) is an essay-worthy topic.
10. Not-writing, again.
11. An idea slips into your mind. You feel it on the edges of your nebulous subconcious. You make a grab for this brilliant, life-saving IDEA born from INSPIRATION. IDEA leads you on, smelling of fresh cookies and strangely, pine. IDEA then escapes your desperate clutches, laughing as it runs away (with the last piece of cheese in its hand) and leaps into the more-nebulous mind of THE DOG. THE DOG looks inspired (you can tell from the angle its tongue hangs out), and immediately begins gnawing its tail off. You unfortunately, aren't. (The inspired part, not the tail part.)
12. You ask your parents: who am I? WHAT IS MY PURPOSE IN LIFE? Do you know what lies deep in my soul?
You only receive blank stares.
At least THE DOG trots over to the book shelf. (this is who you are, perhaps.)
13. For the second time that day, you ponder the meaning of your life. You have no answer for this.
14. You at last, begin to type. It is rubbish. This story and statement of YOURSELF begins with dead, alcoholic people who you've never met in your life. You begin chewing off your nails.
15. You fall asleep on the keyboard, full of confusion, with nothing accomplished. A normal day, in essay-writing land.

me, blogging

2010-10-18T20:17:00.001-07:00

So I've been thinking. Not nearly as much as I expected I would since my last post; I'm not coming into this post with my mind made up, a clear plan, a resolution. For all intents and purposes, I'm free-writing, going with the flow, here. The no-doubt rambly concoction that comes next is my mind making itself up for me, live.

I'll be honest. I didn't feel a heart twang, didn't shed a tear, didn't feel different this last week or so when I didn't update this blog and didn't even think about posting. It felt normal; my routine as a non-blogger, normal person who doesn't spend ungodly hours on the internet interacting with other bloggers or posting. I felt the same as always going to school, eating lunch, coming home, curling into fetal position at the thought of college applications, petting my dog, watching the latest episode of Dexter, and staring at the tangled mess of the short story I'm working on.

I didn't feel a huge hole in my life. More to the point; I didn't detect a hole in my life; a place where I'd ripped out the blogger part of me and set it aside. I wasn't hurt or anyway--as far as I could tell--negatively affected by my non-blogging state.

This made me think that this could mean two things:

1) Not-blogging is my natural state. I don't currently miss it, I won't miss it later on, and I definitely won't miss that heavy feeling in my chest from all the books I have stacked up in my room, waiting to be read and reviewed, slurping up my time, when I much rather be staring at the stars and wondering who the literary equivalent of Monet is (the too-pretty extravagance of his style puts it at Nabokov, I'm thinking); and then pondering the contents of my day.

2) Blogging is something I should be doing. I've learned so much. I've grown so much because of my blog; I've met so many cool people; I've learned to express my thoughts in some semi-coherent, tangible way that makes for a hopefully enjoyable read. What would I have lost this past year in learning and enlightenment if I had never started in which a girl reads and stuck with it? What will I be losing in the future if I throw away a blog that I've put so much time into, this little niche of mine in the internet world?

And I'm thinking right now: I'm not ready to give that up just yet. The good things that come from blogging.

The only thing is--since I'm spilling my brain matter, here (really, it's unedited thoughts--> computer screen) --is that, what I would like to blog about--random shout-outs to the world, one sentence blog posts, things I've stumbled upon and found beauty in--these things, I can do. Sort of.

There's one, huge thing I wish I could do with blogging: work up the courage to talk about myself. Look, I've been reading The Journals of Sylvia Plath in bite-sized snippets for a while now; and its beautiful. I know she never meant for anyone to read it, but I can't help admire the confessional writer; those courageous people out there that can spill their deepest thoughts without inhibition to strangers out in the world. I admire those of you who can keep diaries, who'll have the reward of coming back years later and witnessing how your mind worked at a particular moment in the past. I wish I could grasp this courage, find it somewhere.

But at the moment, I feel daunted. The vast number of you who follow me makes me think twice about posting something personal; and what's more I'm not a inherently exciting person: I haven't climbed to the top of Mt. Everest, saved anyone's life, or am even mildly efficient; I'm just me, a teenager wanting-to-know-more, wanting to find beauty and connections everywhere. And I'd rather crawl into a hole than post my writing here; (this is why I take such comfort in my teeny six-followers--strong writer's blog, nestled away in a safe, dusty corner of the interwebs).

But I think I'd like to try and not hold back so much, to share & muse & ramble more on this blog. It's what I've been doing in this post, and what's more, I'm enjoying writing this.

So I guess this means that I'm not ready to stop blogging, just yet.

I've been trying to figure out what stalled in which a girl reads, though.
Sure, it's been a loss of interest. But from the very first, I constricted myself, laid out ground rules: 1) I'd rarely, if ever, post about my writing 2) Nothing too personal 3) I'd book-review, and post daily.

I think that was a bad foundation to build a blog on.

So this is me, experimenting. Seeing what will come of a blog without restrictions or expectations. I want to try again. And if it doesn't work out, I'll just find someone much more awesome than me (shouldn't be too hard, tehe) to take over in which a girl reads.

Thank you to all of you who responded to my earlier blogging-crisis post. And thanks for reading my brain-vomit for the day.
<3 choco.

the question of how to continue blogging

2010-10-09T18:29:00.000-07:00

So, I sort of mentioned this in my latest post: I'm not sure if/how I'll continue to blog.
These last few months or so--after promising myself that I'd kick this blog into shipshape after a few hiatuses due to testing and vacation--haven't been going how I'd planned, blog-wise.

I've gone from checking my dashboard everyday, reading and commenting on hundreds of blogs, posting nearly every day--to not checking my dashboard often, not commenting, and rarely posting.

The question is--why?

Sure, I'm busy sometimes and I can't possibly blog when I get home at 10:00 P.M. from two extracurricular activities in a row and night classes and still have homework to finish. But that's not everyday--there are days when I could, if I really wanted to, squeeze blogging into my schedule (instead of writing or talking to my family). Those were sacrifices I was willing to make before--but not as much now.

The reason?

I've changed. (Not to be dramatic or anything). But I have. A year ago all I wanted to do was spend my life in Barnes and Noble reading one middle grade book after another. Today? All I want to do is pore over a few of my favorite books and deconstruct their sentences and figure out how the words fit together, and then try and write my own stories.

I mean, I've always had these interests, but they're starting to manifest more in what I read and why I read and how often I read. I'm not reading much, if any YA anymore--I've turned to obsessing over a few of (the same) literary books and trying to figure out how they work; flipping over the same few books and reading a few passages at random; reading poetry--in the time allotment usually reserved for reading YA.

This doesn't exactly make for prime posting material.

My life is becoming less and less full of reading YA books, and more and more full of studying novels, writing things, and watching TV and movies (as my passion for film grows). Right now, I'd rather post pretty photos or a poem or talk about the art museum I visited and what I ate for lunch and what I found laughter in today, than a book review everyday. Right now, I'd rather study prose than read things for plot.

Basically, my interests have shifted, and it's had the affect of me not having a desire to post what I used to post or make time to blog about something I'm not reading or currently as interested in.

That's not to say that next month I won't suddenly find myself itching to review YA books everyday. Who knows what will happen? That's why I'm hesitant to right away"put the blog up for sale" (i.e. set about trying to find a person who I feel confident handing the blog over to); or to say, "Hey, this is now an anime blog GET OUT YOU YA people!" (for the record, this is not my plan for the blog, haha.)

Anyhow, I'm sort of doing some major blog-reflecting right now. For the moment, I'll hold of posting (though I feel terribly, terribly guilty about the review copies and ARCs I've been sent and haven't reviewed yet; I will either review them eventually or send them to another blogger!). I'll be thinking and deciding what I really want to do with this blog, or if maybe blogging isn't right for me at this particular point in my life.

And I'll get back to you guys on this. I promise.

Have any of you gone through a similar thing with blogging? What did you do?

some very rambly bookish musings

2010-10-04T15:08:00.000-07:00

After a round of watching TV, and as I was eating some stir-fry today, I thought about something rather interesting*. First, about how each reader takes away something different from a book. And secondly, how an author doesn't describe everything. This is very different than in, for example, the TV show that I was watching**-- where the setting and characters are already there, in detail, and character motivations fall by the wayside in favor of watching character's actions unfold on the screen. Watching a movie, the audience has most things already manufactured by the creator; but an author, in writing, has to leave a certain leeway, at least in the description area.

In books, readers create their own experience. Reading one book: say, Harry Potter*** is a unique experience, just because each reader fills in the gaps left by the author in a different way. For instance, I have a habit of imagining rooms where the action is taking place--perhaps stone-walled and with a fireplace, if we're sticking with the HP scenario--but the underlying material I use to shape this imaginary world is rooted in reality: the room I've imagined that HP lives in has the exact same layout as my parent's bedroom, except the decoration is of course different.****; the meadow I imagine Bella to have stopped in is oddly similar in shape--but not details--to a meadow I remember from my childhood; and Chrestomanci's castle looks a bit like a castle I'd seen in a movie.

This combination in my reading imagination-- of both something extremely foreign but at the same time familiar-- is absolutely fascinating to me. And thinking of all the imagining I've done for past books, I realize a lot of the formatting is recycled. I have the same template for numerous rooms--the same layout, just different interiors--that I use a lot for books I've read. Quite a few characters live in the same house as I do, quite a few played sports in a similar gym to my high school gym, etc. A lot of it is based unconsciously on my experiences: the same field, the same car, the same driveway, the same teapot--they all materialize, with different details, depending on the book--but they appear repeatedly through everything I read, as a sort of continuing pattern or mold.

Of course, there's some settings that I've envisioned that are entirely new, and that I have no idea where they came from. It's actually quite fascinating to re-envision them without the confines of a book's specifications. Are these places from your imagination as a reader, not the author's? Do you own these imaginings? Especially if the author had just described "a house overlooking a lake"--and your response had been to imagine a clear lake at the foot of the mountains with weeds growing at the sides and a house with Spanish architecture.

If you own these imaginings, not the author, does this mean the process of reading is just tapping into your own personal repository of imaginings? What then, makes someone drawn to books?

For me, I've noticed many of my favorite books are mostly the ones--especially in fantasy--where I had the fullest imagining of the setting. Where the details I'd conjured up, in addition to those provided by the author--contributed to the most real and solid world. I suspect the reason it felt so real and solid was the fact that many of the details from my real and solid world had been transposed into this literary version.

It puzzles me that so many millions of people can be deeply in love with a book, despite the fact that their experience and details they impose upon the book must vary widely. I'm sure different readers envision things differently; perhaps entirely different than I do. I'm always imagining the setting with as much detail as I can manage--not the character's physique though. Characters in a book are sort of shadowy to me: I can't get a firm grasp of what their faces look like. But I don't really care--their personality is more important to me.

However, for some readers, maybe this is what they focus on: the physical appearance of the characters, while the setting just sort of melts away. Or perhaps they don't envision much details at all.

I think the only time you get a true glimpse of someone else's vision of a book is when you watch the movie adaptation: the director certainly had a different impression than you did, although many of the major features remain intact. I think it'd be absolutely fascinating to have, say, 100 people who have read the same book, draw a particular setting in the book--perhaps a room, or a building. And then see how it matches up.

When it comes to the gaps an author leaves, do we envision such entirely different things that it's shocking that we love a book for the same reason? Is it all rather similar? Does the fact that I, at least, use some of the details of my real world to flesh out the imaginary--contribute to the connection I feel with books? Is that the beautiful dichotomy of reading---that we are at once able to immerse ourselves in the imaginary, and the unknown, while comfortably imposing our own world into an impossible one?

Okay those are my closing thoughts, I promise. Sorry for the very indulgent mega humongous-ramble. I had these thoughts during dinner and I decided I had to write them down. (And P.S.: sorry for being such a fail of a blogger, disappearing all the time. I'm currently working out how I'll continue blogging. )

*at least to me, hahaha. This is a very self-indulgent post.
*** DOCTOR WHO HECKYEAH.
*** first time around I wrote it "Happy Potter." hehehehe.
****Oh god, that'd be so cool to have a HP themed bedroom!

a late waiting on wednesday

2010-09-29T20:45:00.000-07:00

This week's pick: Fall for Anything by Courtney Summers

***
When Eddie Reeves’s father commits suicide her life is consumed by the nagging question of why? Why when he was a legendary photographer and a brilliant teacher? Why when he had a daughter who loved him more than anyone else in the world? When she meets Culler Evans, a former student of her father’s and a photographer himself, an instant and dangerous attraction begins. He seems to know more about her father than she does and could possibly hold the key to the mystery surrounding his death. But Eddie’s vulnerability has weakened her and Culler Evans is getting too close. Her need for the truth keeps her hanging on… but some questions should be left unanswered.

***

First: the cover is lovely
Second: OMG!!!!11111oneoneone IT'S THE NEW COURTNEY SUMMERS BOOK, HECKYEAHHH.
Third: Courtney Summers <33333333
Fourth: Ooh, photography.
Fifth: I SMELL A MURDERER IN CULLER EVANS. (okays, maybe I'm jumping to conclusions here. okay, I'm definitely jumping to conclusions. He's probably just the sweet love interest, sigh.)
Sixth: Who's as excited as meeeeeee?

To bad we have to wait until December 21, 2010

on reading the edible woman

2010-09-26T22:36:00.000-07:00

I don't know if I mentioned it before or if it's readily apparent from all the CT posts, but I'm a huge Margaret Atwood fangirl. I started off with reading some of her novels a few years ago, but she's also the first author that incited in me a love of poetry.

She's definitely up high on the list for "authors I love and who have changed my reading perspective." Maybe even #1.

I picked up The Edible Woman at a bookstore this summer. I began reading it--casting aside the other bazillion books I'd splurged on--right away. I remember the way I sat on my bed and sank into this beautiful book.

The Edible Woman--as Atwood's debut, written in the 70s--had a different flavor than the other Atwood books I'd read, like The Handmaid's Tale or The Blind Assassin. There was something inherently different about this book . Something about Atwood's earlier writing style--still assured, yes. Still recognizably Atwood. But somehow less processed.

The Edible Woman tells the story of Marian, a 60's girl with a college diploma who works at job should care less for. She values her independence. Her voice is crisp; her pragmatical nature indisputable. She becomes engaged to Peter: her indisputably practical boyfriend. Things dissolve from there.

There was something of the surreal in this book. Marian gets engaged; things change. Some sort of roadblock forms in her mind as her life as a housewife, married to Peter, solidifies. She can't eat meat anymore. She can't eat much anymore. At one point, she hides under a bed. Her world is shattering; one night, she takes off racing down the streets for no reason at all.

Oh, how I love my crazy main characters.

The surrealism continues: her strange attraction to a graduate student, Duncan, who's frail and a bit like a helpless little boy. Her roommate's, Ainsley, hilarious antics, after a sudden and determined decision to get pregnant, just because. The frailty of her old college friend, Clara, who's weighed down by four squealing kids and who, to Marian, seems little more than someone who gives birth to kids.

There is something otherworldly about the prose and the writing.

Something that still puzzles me: the switch from first person to third person a bit into the book. I guess it could be representative of the way Marian's voice is removed, detached, as she advances further into an stifling engagement she doesn't truly want.

Really, I don't know.

Something I do know: this book is beautiful. It's non-preachy feminism. It's lovely prose-- I think, even though Atwood was so young when she wrote this book (only 24)-- it's as beautiful if not as beautiful as her later books. It's a character study, a relationship study. There's something ethereal to it, almost, as it examines all sorts of different women portrayed in this book. There's something symbolic behind everything, if you'd care to decipher it.

I loved the minor characters a little more than somewhat distant Marian, to tell the truth. Red-headed and eccentric Ainsley, who just wants to use men to further her own ends--she's quite funny. And melancholy Duncan: he seems so real to me that I wouldn't be surprised to see an emaciated figure walking down my street right now. I think he's one of my favorite characters in literature, of all time.

And there is something extraordinary about the minutiae elements in this book: the every day interactions elevated into something truly remarkable. The mundane suddenly something absolutely fascinating. It's like magical realism, but not quite.

Basically, this book just made me love Atwood even more, if that's even possible. And it says a lot that I chose to ramble about The Edible Woman over old favorites such as The Handmaid's Tale or The Blind Assassin. It's my favorite Atwood book.

Some quotes:

"So I'm finally going mad," she thought, "like everybody else. What a nuisance. Though I suppose it will be a change."

"Not liking other people's babies," said Ainsley, "isn't the same as not liking your own."

"After a while I noticed that a large drop of something wet had materialized on the table. I poked it with my finger and smudged it around a little before I realized with horror that it was a tear."

I think this is Atwood at her finest. Really, I'd wear a t-shirt around everywhere with "READ SOME ATWOOD" on the front if I could. Hopefully you'll get a chance to sometime--sooner rather than later :)

in which the contest winners are (finally) announced!

2010-09-24T17:00:00.000-07:00

I know, MASSIVE FAIL -__-

Took me a while (school was positively eating me alive the last week) but, but, BUT...the good news is that yay, some people have finally won the contest, and I can tell you who now. LIKE NOW. But I'm only dragging this out because I know everyone skipped down to see already, amiright?

ANYWHO.

First place winner (with their choice of THREE books from the pile)

Amelia from Imagination in Focus

Second place winner (with choice of two books from pile)

Briana from BAM Book Reviews

Third place winner (with choice of one book from pile).

Angie from Addicted to Books

Emails are on their way; winners please respond within 48 hours.

Just like to say thank you for all the support with the contest and theee blog :D Even when I disappear for long stretches of time without announcing contest winners. You guys put up with so much XD

just gotta say I can't stand this

2010-09-14T16:23:00.000-07:00

I might being stepping on some of your toes here, but I really can't stand a particular kind of review that I keep seeing on goodreads or amazon or whathaveyou review site.

The kind of review where the reviewer completely disregards the merits of a book and the actual craft of the book--things like writing quality, characters, voice, plot, setting. Where the actual quality of the book isn't even mentioned, and instead the whole review is a rant about how [insert drugs, cussing, sex here] is inappropriate for a YA book or for YA readers.

It's totally and completely fine if you didn't like those elements in a book.

But it's the fact that a 1-star rating is given not based on merit, but a reviewer's stance on morality that drives me crazy. It's just not being fair to the author or the book. It's not fair at all.

Look, I have no issue with readers not liking/ getting offended by/ not enjoying cussing teenage characters or drug use or promiscuity in YA books. That's a decision that each person makes individually as a reader, and it's a matter of what someone personally does or doesn't like reading in a book. That's not what I'm bothered by.

However, I do get pretty antsy when I see a perfectly good book--in terms of writing or characterization or craft--given 1-star reviews solely because of the more "edgy" elements.

Maybe it's the fault of Amazon and Goodreads, since they don't have an option other than the 5-stars where reviewers can rate or explain that they didn't like the content. But as it stands, the preponderance of 1-star reviews given based off or a book's morality instead of actual quality devalues the integrity of a 5-star rating scale. 1s should be reserved for books that are completely terrible craft-wise and that would better serve as fire fuel because they're so bad. 1s shouldn't be reserved for otherwise good books that have content that discomfort some--but not all--readers.

But until the reviewing system is changed (which I don't see happening soon), I'd really like to see more balanced reviews. Okay, so you're all fired up about how the main character dropped f-bombs every other word. And you definitely didn't like that she was a cocaine addict. That's fine.

But what did you actually think about the writing? The plot? The craft that went behind this book? The character development and her relationships with other characters as she deals with the consequences of being a cussing cocaine addict?

In my opinion, those are crucial things that should be covered in a review before branching out to a personal dislike of a character's moral choices. Those are the things that should be factored in to how a book is rated. Those are the elements--when mentioned in a review--that will actually help people decide if a book is worth reading or not.

Are you bothered when 1-star reviews are given solely because of "edgy" content? Do you think giving books 1-stars/ 2-stars because of content is fair or even a good way of rating books?

review: the duff

2010-09-13T19:50:00.000-07:00

Summary:

Seventeen-year-old Bianca Piper is cynical and loyal, and she doesn't think she's the prettiest of her friends by a long shot. She's also way too smart to fall for the charms of man-slut and slimy school hottie Wesley Rush. In fact, Bianca hates him. And when he nicknames her "Duffy," she throws her Coke in his face.

But things aren't so great at home right now. Desperate for a distraction, Bianca ends up kissing Wesley. And likes it. Eager for escape, she throws herself into a closeted enemies-with-benefits relationship with Wesley.

Until it all goes horribly awry. It turns out that Wesley isn't such a bad listener, and his life is pretty screwed up, too. Suddenly Bianca realizes with absolute horror that she's falling for the guy she thought she hated more than anyone.

My Opinion:

Enter Bianca: a fierce girl who's feels she's the Duff (Designated Fat Ugly Friend). Enter Wesley: the gorgeous player that has no heart or soul.
Then sit back as these two battle (and love) it out, and you've got the resulting concoction of punchy, real, and engrossing that is The Duff.

Bianca is definitely a memorable main character: she jumps out at the pages from the first, spouting clever insults and her worries about family problems. But I like my snarky main characters. I like them quite a lot. I can understand why the constant cynicism and aggression that characterizes Bianca might rub some readers the wrong way--but that's the same reaction a sarcastic seventeen-year-old would get in real life, and it only seems fitting that she'd get the same reaction out of readers. One thing's for sure: some people will love Bianca, and some people will hate her.

I mostly loved her.

One thing I can say about this book? It's a breath of fresh air. Bianca is perfectly imperfect: she's not stunningly beautiful or scarily skinny, and she's definitely not yet another recycled teenage main character that populate so many YA books today. She feels real, and her witty observations are just the sort of thing I'd like to see more in YA: her assertion that in high school, teenagers shouldn't be "in love" but rather "in like"; her ability to have a crush on someone nerdy and nice rather than a chiseled marble statue; and her doubts about her relationship with Wesley.

It's the characters and the relationships that are the backbone of this book; and Keplinger succeeds in bringing to life a whole cast that has strikingly realistic interactions with each other. Cynical Bianca has two friends that aren't flimsy stock characters; Wesley--although definitely not a love interest I'd swoon over--has depth behind his playboy exterior; a sister he cares for, and a rather touching concern for Bianca--even as he plays his part as a womanizer. It's the teens that I feel came to life and took over this story--as it should be in YA. Bianca's relationship with her Dad and Mom is shaky; but I felt that the conflict between them could've stood to have been explored at a deeper level rather than a toss-up conflict that adds reasoning to Bianca's lusty interactions with Wesley. And I'd promised I'd start doing this more often, so for those of you who are deeply offended by cursing or sex in a book, steer clear of The Duff. Personally, I'm not bothered by it, and felt that it did create a further dimension of realness to The Duff--even if Bianca made some rather stupid decisions. The point is, she learned from it. The other point is that these are real teenagers you're reading about, not just what adults think teenagers are like.

And that's why I felt that this book had so much value.

There are some things that I wish could've been a little different: there was a slight shift in writing style after the first few chapters that should've been ironed out by the time of publication, and also, the ending just didn't quite do it for me. It came together too nicely and too easily; with the blink of an eye, Bianca's problems were resolved. The ending was not in line with the rest of the ambiance of the book; nor was Bianca's final attitude towards Wesley. Things were too neat, and far too pretty for a book and main character that aren't afraid to deal with the ugly side of things.

However, I will say that I really appreciated the self-esteem issues explored in this book: I'm sure just about every girl and possibly boy has felt like The Duff at one point. And I did love the chemistry between Bianca and Wesley; it kept me reading, just to see what insult she'd throw at him next.

Overall, The Duff was a very strong debut by an author I'm eager to read more from in the future. I'm really grateful as a reader that Keplinger was able to take a step back from the cliches and often untrue descriptions of high school that are so pervasive throughout YA; and to deliver a setting that rings true to me as a teenager.

The Duff is snarky and punchy and just what teen readers need from contemporary YA--a new voice that's got some gumption to it, and most of all, a whole lot of realism.

My Rating: 8/10. Pretty good read overall, pick it up if you have a chance. Oh, and I LOVE the cover. For once, there's a girl on the cover that stays true to what I'd expect her to look like based off of descriptions--there isn't any of that annoying skinny-fying and glamorizing (she has freckles!) done here. I'm doing my happy-dance for covers right now. :)

FTC Disclosure: I received the ARC for review from the publisher

falling out of love with books

2010-09-12T13:11:00.000-07:00

Something rather crushing happened yesterday, when I went to dig through my bookshelves for this novel I used to love when I was in sixth grade. I started reading it. It was okay, but not wonderful like I remembered it to be.

I mostly noticed how I didn't care for the voice, or the way author described things, or the dialogue. I used to love every inch of that book and reread it obsessively, but yesterday I realized it was just kinda not that great.

I'd fallen out of love with a book.

Now, I still love plenty of books I loved in sixth grade. But some books I was sure I'd love forever--well, they're not that loved anymore.

And I think it's because I review books.

Before, if I didn't like a book, it was only a vague, unsettled feeling in the pit of my stomach after I read a book and decided I'd wasted my time and then decided I'd never read it again. But I didn't put this dislike of a book into words or even think much about why I disliked a book until I began book reviewing.

Now, it's hard for me to put my critical mind aside when I'm reading. The flaws in a book stand out.

And I think that's why--not just because I'm older and different--I can fall out of love with a book.

And I wonder if that's really a good thing. I mean, I can have comfort in the fact that there's a reason I love or hate a book, but it's not as comforting to know that I can't just pick up any book I want and have an enjoyable time reading it, or even expect that my reading favorites will still be the same books a year from now.

Why do you think you fall out of love with books? Is it just time passing? Different tastes? Or did you suddenly become aware of flaws you hadn't noticed before?

teen writer interview: emilia plater

2010-09-02T15:51:00.000-07:00

Teen writer interviews are a feature on my blog, where I invite some very talented teens who are seriously pursuing publication over for a spotlight.

BASIC INFO:

Name: Emilia Plater

Age: 17 (Life is going by so fast! AHH)

Blog: Punk Writer Kid

Twitter: @emiliaplater

Represented By: Suzie Townsend of FinePrint Literary Management

FAVORITES:

Food: Chinese

Song: Hey by The Pixies

Weather: 75 degrees and sunny. I'm on the wrong coastline!

Movie: Catch Me If You Can

Write the autobiography of your life in a sentence, using at least three of these words: watermelon, tusks, sibilant, boots, reindeer, finagle, crusty, scuba, watershed, turban.

Once, a girl with the ability to eat a whole watermelon in one sitting put on some boots and scuba'd this world with her TUSKS. Metaphorically.

(faux cover below)

Query/ Summary for Autochromatic:

I'm awful at short s ummaries, so y'all get the Big Query Kahuna. Much apologies! Here we go...

Ask seventeen-year-old Riley Tanner how she's dealing with the death of her boyfriend, Adrian, and she'll respond with an eye-roll and a "fantastically." Truth is, the car crash wrecked her world, and Riley has pretty much accepted her fate as a screwed-up therapy case. But when she starts getting texts from Adrian's phone number, each containing a different address, her plan to spend the summer not thinking about him falls apart.

Desperate to track down the sender - mostly so she can punch that creep in the face - Riley sets off on a follow-the-texts road trip with her best friend. From New York City to the Wild West, she meets people from Adrian's past who she didn't know existed. Their stories of betrayal, alcoholism, and messed-up family dramas paint a not-so-pretty picture of the guy she thought she loved. Great.

With her beliefs caught in a crapstorm, Riley recognizes the real source of her frustration: Adrian's mistakes. But there's nothing in the Angsty Teen manual about conflict resolution with dead people, and things only get worse when her best friend heads home after a fight. Stranded on the wrong side of the country, Riley has to make a choice: give up healing for good, or ask for help from the one person who refuses to show their face...

IWAGR: Wow. I'd seriously buy this book in a heartbeat if I saw it at the bookstore.

Can you share a favorite scene or a few excerpts from Autochromatic?

My favorite scene is a little too spoilery (I'm a sucker for Climactic Breakdowns), but here are a few of my fave bits! They characterize Riley well, muah hah.

Screw twinkling lights. I prefer the city in the morning. The real people come out now -- the suits on their way to work, the hardcore drunks on their way home, the crazy muscular runners. Sunlight bleeds into the sidewalk cracks and ramps up the contrast of the colors, plastic colors, trash colors. This is the real city, awake again after a chaotic Saturday night, collective hangover chiseling everything to an edge. That’s not printed on the stupid posters in Times Square.

Watch me. No way. This room flashes to mine, zooms in on my bed, where sheets snarl around my ankles. People are studying me, Riley Tanner, age seventeen, boyfriend died in a car crash, isn’t that sad? They’re wondering, whispering as gunfire pain sears at my middle, cutting my organs, warping my spine. All day , all night, no medicine works and two words writhe in my ear. Suicide watch.

That camping trip was great. Adrian and I were allowed to have our own tent, and we almost had sex in it after a day of rock-climbing, but then my dad started making bear noises ten feet away and we co llapsed into laughter.

IWAGR: Those are really awesome! LOVE.

What was it like landing an agent?

Oh my gosh, it was amazing and exciting and insane! It's been a month, and I still don't think it's sunk in. I'm probably going to be sitting in school someday soon when I randomly start having a freak attack because it's finally hit me. This is happening. Huh?

What does your book sound like? (Describe it as if it were a song.)

I hear guitar, power electric guitar, with a dash of piano melody for the the more touchy-feely moments. A great drum beat. Lots of annoying cymbal crashing during the chorus. And for some reason, a trumpet. Veery interesting.

INWAGR: Interesting indeed!

What inspired you to begin writing in the first place? When did you get serious about it? And what keeps you sticking with it?

In the beginning, my "inspiration" was a little twisted: I wanted to write a book for the sake of being that cool kid who writes a book. Looking back, I think emo 15-year-old me was searching for something - a jumpstart, a break in the monotony, a reason for being, whatever you want to call it. It just so happens that the week I started writing AC, something shifted, and suddenly it hit me that I had, as an emo 15-year-old, stumbled upon my freakin' calling. Whoaman!

Despite all that, I didn't know if I'd be able to stick with it. But it's been a year and a half since then, and whether it's the words, or the people, or the addictive highs, or something else altogether, I'm still here. Honestly, I couldn't feel more blessed.

Can you describe your writing style?

Whine, procrastinate, write two sentences, check Facebook, eat, write. No, just kidding... sort of, hee! Above all, I try to keep it real, no holds barred. In AC, Riley's gritty, tell-all voice really helps me do that. But overall, the visceral reaction is something I'm always hunting for. It may take a few rounds of hammering, but once that cool turn of phrase shows itself, or that breakdown hits just the right note, I've done my job.

Looking at my excerpts, apparently I'm a lover of run-on sentences. I promise they're only a slight problem!

What’s your ultimate writing dream and where do you see yourself in ten years time writing-wise?

In ten years, I hope to be writing novels for a living, or at least part of a living. Earth-shattering, I know - I just hope they're good!

When it comes to an ultimate writing dream, right now I feel like seeing my writing on the pages of a real-live book would be the most amazing thing in the world. But I'm also a big believer in the idea that under every desire lies another one waiting to break free. So maybe one day I'll dream of nothing less than penning an NYT bestseller - or, more likely, of simply being someone with the power to shake things up and make people think a little differently. Whatever happens will happen - and I can't wait to go along for the ride!

What is your favorite hobby other than writing?

Would you believe me if I told you I'm a professional whale trainer? No? Yeah, I wouldn't either. Hmm... Well, there's reading, and creepily drawing portraits of my friends when they're not looking. OH! My dream is to travel like crazy, and I've already been to a few pretty sweet places. Yes, I choose traveling. Which is funny, because my parents are always bugging me to get out of my room. Oh, moms and dads.

IWAGR: TRAVELING, HECK YEAH!

What’s the most important thing in your writing? (A gripping plot? Humor? Beautiful descriptions? Great dialogue? Great voice? Awesome characters?) What do you strive to perfect?

Dude, reading that list of qualities made me drool! I really try my best to achieve them all, since the whole package is always ideal. But I'll be the first to admit that voice is what hooks me the most in YA, and it's one of my favorite things to develop. I've found that once you've got the main character's essence down, suddenly the humor's there too, closely followed by the descriptions, and the snappy dialogue... Riley comprises the core of AC, and from her has sprung plot changes, characters I want her to clash with, everything. I owe her a lot!

Even though in my head, Riley is pretty much a real-live person, I've had to work a lot on perfecting those minor characters, particularly their motivations. Having a whole cast of real characters is truly what makes a story memorable - any LOST fan will tell you that. Then you get to finish the book and think... "Wait, where do I find these people?"

What’s a word you absolutely hate? One that you absolutely love?

For some reason, the word 'lips' has always freaked me out. I sort of have to use it though, because my characters are always smiling like idiots (it's a problem), and you can only use 'mouth' and 'smile' so many times. I absolutely love the word 'gambol.' Which sucks, because if I made any of my characters do it, they'd kill me. I'll have to stick them in a meadow of happy flowers sometime and see what they do THEN.

If you ever made it on to the front page of a newspaper, what would it be for?

I swear I'm not lying - my immediate answer was "for burning something down." I mean, ideally, it'd be for setting up a kitten orphanage, or for a record-breaking book release, but... yeah. I suck at cooking.

Invent a writing or reading related superpower.

The power to stop time. Unrelated! you exclaim accusingly. But oh, it is so related. Can you imagine being able to stop time for a little in the middle of crazy-busy day, sit down, and read a cool book or write a chapter or two before returning to the grind? Hells yeah. And the possibilities for pranks are endless, but that actually isn't writing related, so I'll keep 'em to myself. (One word: whales.)

And lastly, the MOST IMPORTANT QUESTION OF YOUR LIFE: In a top-secret experiment (that is probably very unethical and illegal) SCIENTISTS HAVE ENGINEERED A BREED OF OH-SO-CUTE kittens that can *gasp* read. Desperate to make sure these kittens get the reading education they need, you ninja five of your favorite books into the laboratory. What are they and why let the kitties read them?

OMG! Okay. Okay. No pressure. Just molding the minds of adorable kittens that will inevitably rule the world with their cuteness. Let's see... I'd want to make sure they don't feel weird, being able to read and all, so I'd use The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian by Sherman Alexie to teach them the importance of being yourself. Then, I'd want them to be prepared for the possibility of a zombie outbreak when they rule the world, so stick in World War Z by Max Brooks.

After that, it's time for some lessons about love and hate and women's issues: Some Girls Are by Courtney Summers and The Bell Jar by Slyvia Plath (don't get too depressed, kitties!). And finally, the eternal Harry Potter series (it counts as one), because no living creature should ever have to endure an existence without magic. Yay!

IWAGR: Aww man, those are all awesome books--I freaking love Alexie and Rowling and Plath and Rowling. Those kitties are gonna have lots of fun reading them :p

***

Thank you Emilia for letting me interview you! Who else thinks this girl is made of awesome?

Don't forget to check out her (also) awesome blog over at Punk Writer Kid.

book trailer for halo by alexandra adornetto

2010-09-01T18:44:00.000-07:00

I think the cover of Halo--the newest it-book to hit stores as of yesterday--is gorgeous :)

Here's the book trailer:

waiting on wednesday: so shelly

2010-09-01T18:02:00.000-07:00

Until now, high school junior, John Keats, has only tiptoed near the edges of the vortex that is schoolmate and literary prodigy, Gordon Byron. That is, until their mutual friend, Shelly, drowns in a sailing accident.

After stealing Shelly's ashes from her wake at Trinity Catholic High School, the boys set a course for the small Lake Erie island where Shelly's body had washed ashore and to where she wished to be returned. It would be one last "so Shelly" romantic quest. At least that's what they think. As they navigate around the obstacles and resist temptations during their odyssey, Keats and Gordon glue together the shattered pieces of Shelly's and their own pasts while attempting to make sense of her tragic and premature end.

***

I love the cleverness of how all the main characters mentioned are named after a poets.

And my gawd, I already love this book. I stated googling Percy Shelley out of pure curiosity, and got sucked into reading up about him.

From wikipedia:

On 8 July 1822, less than a month before his 30th birthday, Shelley drowned in a sudden storm while sailing back from Livorno to Lerici in his schooner, Don Juan.

So I'm guessing book is at least loosely based on Shelley-Byron-Keat's real lives.

I AM SO STOKED.

Mostly because:
1. I love poetry
2. This book seems like a modern, fictionalized version of the poet's lives.
3. It seems like a fresh idea in YA. And it's already exudes cleverness from just a short blurb--I looove clever things.

At first I thought this book might be cool, but the more I read up on it, the more excited I'm getting XD

To be published February 8th 2011

guys, this is making me all teary-eyed

2010-08-29T22:57:00.000-07:00

I had my blogoversary a few days ago.

But it took me up until now to say:

Thanks for following, for stopping by, for indulging me in my craziness from time to time. I really am so happy that I started this blog and that it didn't die on the way, and that somehow people out in the world are reading it--something that still boggles my mind.

I've come a far way since August 2009. Hopefully, my blogging writing has improved. I know my reading tastes have changed. Lots of things have changed. But mostly, it's been really cool documenting my reading journey on this blog--and coolest of all having readers like you.

A lot happens in a year--blog-wise, but mostly I remember meeting so many awesome bloggers, and reading their posts and thoughts and sort of marveling at what a great community this is.

So again, thanks. Thanks for making my first year blogging a really great one.

<333

how books bring out my baser instincts

2010-08-28T12:12:00.000-07:00

YESTERDAY, AT HOME:
Me: I NEED TO READ MOCKINGJAY!
Mom: Aheh. Didn't you already buy it off Amazon?
Me: Maybe. BUT I NEED TO READ IT NOW.
Mom: okaaay, let me just drive you to the bookstore...*moves slowlyslowlyslowy*
Me: FASTER, LADY! *scampers into the night*

YESTERDAY, AT BOOKSTORE:
Me: *drools*
Other girl: Look, the last copy of Mockingjay on the shelf!
Me and Other girl: *TENSE GLARE*
Me: MINE!
Other girl: No, MINE!
Me: LOOK, IT'S PEETA READING TWILIGHT!
Other girl: *swivels*
Me: *snatches book*'

LATER AT BOOKSTORE:
Me: look, the last cushy chair! *barrels over unknowing crowds* MINE MINE MINE MINE.
'
30 MINS LATER:
Boy: If you're leaving can I have that seat?
Me: ARGHHHHHH! *bares teeth*

TODAY, WHILST EATING LUNCH OF NOODLES:
Dad: You've got a package!
Me: GRAWWWWWWWWWWWWW! *pounces on Amazon box*
Dad: Err. *backs away*
Me: FORK, MEET TAPE! *stabs box repeatedly with fork*
MOCKINGJAY! YOU! FOUND! *cuddles with shiny books*

my initial, gut reaction to mockingjay (non-spoilery)

2010-08-28T00:15:00.000-07:00

So I caved today, and read Mockingjay in the bookstore because I just couldn't take the suspense anymore. I finished a hour or two ago.

Usually, it's a terrible idea to write a review only an hour or two after I've finished reading something.

So I'll just say this is my immediate reaction.

3-word opinion: Errm. Wow. Sort of?

GENERAL THOUGHTS:

While Collins maintains that engrossing style of hers that entranced readers with her previous two books, there was something that was definitely missing for me in Mockingjay. I don't know--reading the last book, I was expecting to love it, but it didn't feel like the conclusion to this epic trilogy--it felt like just any other book. It wasn't bad, but it wasn't take-your-breath-away material.

Of course, there were bits of the elements I'd loved in HG and CF--Collins inventiveness when it came to the gadgets in this dystopian world, the way the betrayals and twists in the book play out.

ON KATNISS:

But then, there's Katniss, who's been sort of carved out from her former fierce self to something a lot more passive. I began to feel quite bad for her because the doom and gloom never let up for that poor girl--she's constantly on defense, constantly being pushed around, right up to the very last chapter. For me, I'd like to have seen Katniss come into her own for this book. Sadly, it' didn't really happen--that girl got destroyed repeatedly throughout the book, and by the ending, no matter what Collins wrote, it was just too late to restore Katniss from anything other than a complete mess.

ON WAR:

And then, there's the deterioration of the book into little more than a bloody war scene. Sort of like in movies where bam, a whole hour of people killing each other just happens in front of you, but doesn't really have any meaning or evoke any emotional response other than "Wow, that's a lot of blood." (that was me for the half of Mockingjay.)

ON THE LOVE TRIANGLE:

Also, the way Collins handled the love triangle was sort of strange, too--Katniss never really flat-out said anything straight up to Gale or Peeta, and her decision came very suddenly.

ON THE EPILOGUE:

The epilogue (as so often with otherwise wonderful series *cough* HP *cough*) fell short, and just felt so completely wrong--doing nothing to prevent the shaky ending from just sort of collapsing in itself. To me, The epilogue was so completely at odds with the tone and Katniss' proclamations in the rest of the book.

OTHER THOUGHTS:
I dunno. I think Mockingjay was mildly depressing, but I would never have dreamt of not reading the final book in this series. I'm just sort of feeling deflated right now :/ I guess it's just me not being a fan--in general--of so much battle/war/death without the emotional context. Still, I feel like such a downer amongst the Mockingjay fandom! If only I could love it more than I do right now.

Criticisms aside, I do think Collins is really awesome at storytelling, and I love her and her books A LOT A LOT A LOT. In retrospect, Mockingjay is a pretty respectable, un-put-downable book.

We'll see if it grows on meeee! (Hopefully it will.)

captivating thursday

2010-08-26T17:11:00.001-07:00

source

source

And some vids (more than usual) to offset the lack of quotes/ poetry :)

I love Andrew Bird and his violin--it's so beautiful:

One of the best ideas for a music videos ever, plus a great song. Watch closely, it's really cool when you do.

I have to warn you, this one of Sylvia Plath's picture talking is creepy. Really creepy, but I love the poem.

mockingjay anxiety

2010-08-23T22:04:00.000-07:00

SO YEAH.

It's coming out tomorrow.

^I think that was probably the most useless sentence I've ever written on this blog--since unless you were living under a rock, you are probably right here with me counting down the seconds with a sort of jittery air, and conjuring up mental images of what the silky smooth pages of Mockingjay will feel like under your fingertips.

Or perhaps you are lucky and already have it in your hands?

IF SO, GET OUT OF HERE. (I eez v. jealous).

I preordered it, but Amazon, by some cruel joke, has decided to deliver it on "August 30, 2010."

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

The agonies of ordering from interwebs companies are unparalleled. Amazon, you silly mammoth-who-doesn't-deliver-when-I-want-you-too!

I have been very lax on my Mockingjay preparation--I didn't even reread Hunger Games and Catching Fire, but only because I thought it would accelerate my sense of longing. (Darn you, Catching Fire cliffhanger ending!)

So now I wait until the 30th, unless I crack on Friday (nearest time since I don't have to deal with tests of homework) and hop over to B&N and spend several hours reading with a frappucino in hand--both reacquainting myself and saying goodbye (*tear*) to Katniss and Peeta and Gale and the Capitol.

It's weird knowing that this time next week, most of everyone will know exactly what has happened. There's a sort of sadness to when a series ends--I remember HP a few years back--when I'd grown up to a book being released every few years.

I didn't grow up with HG, exactly, but I still love it.

Very much.

Who else isn't getting to--despite their wishes--to read it on Tuesday? Someone comfort me here, haha.

10 MG/YA FANTASY BOOKS YOU SHOULD READ

2010-08-22T13:55:00.000-07:00

Aside from Harry Potter and Narnia, here are some of my favorite middle grade/ young adult fantasy books. A lot of them are series. Again, as in my post 10 YA CONTEMPORARY BOOKS YOU SHOULD READ, I tried to keep it succinct with the reason I love a book.

Links to goodreads and/or my reviews. Sadly, haven't gotten to reviewing a lot of them yet.

HOWL'S MOVING CASTLE by Diana Wynne Jones

One of my favorite DWJ books* (who just happens to be one of my favorite authors, ever)--Howl's Moving Castle is a lovely mishmash of a book, with elements from fairy tales, a selfish wizard with a fondness for green slime, and one of the most wonderful voices I've ever read.

Goodreads/ My (ancient *wince*) review

CHARMED LIFE (Chrestomanci Chronicles) by Diana Wynne Jones*

Among the DWJ fans, there's a lot of disagreement about which is the best Chrestomanci book (they're all marvelous); but I'm so deeply besotted with Charmed Life that there was this weird period in my life a few years ago where I just reread Charmed Life every week for a year--I want to be in this book along with flamboyant Chrestomanci, timid Cat, and absurd Gwendolyn (yeahh, even her.)
*What is this. TWO books by the same author in the top ten? YEAH, that's right. *loves to plug DWJ books.* The world would be a sadder place without this genius authoress writing.*
Goodreads

FLY BY NIGHT by Frances Hardinge

A psychotic goose, a love for all things words, wonderful characters, and a setting reminiscent of 18th century England all combine to make this perhaps one of my most treasured reads--in my opinion, a modern children's classic.

My review/ Goodreads

FLORA SEGUNDA by Ysabeau Wilce

The voice of the main character--funny and so very unique--is what makes this book wonderful; the off-the-beaten-road feel of the world-building that takes inspiration from 18th century Spain is a bonus. ♥

Goodreads

THE SEVENTH TOWER SERIES by Garth Nix

It was hard for me deciding between the Seventh Tower Series and Sabriel*--but this is the series I've obsessively reread--love the light magic, and the plot and the premise and EVERYTHING.
*the books are so teeny I just had to put the whole series down. Plus, my favorite's the sixth and that would just be awkward, recommending you guys to read the sixth without the first, tehe.

Goodreads

THE MAGIC THIEF by Sarah Prineas

This book pretty much sums up everything I love about middle grade fantasy--the lovable main characters, the vaguely English setting, the magic and the irresistible VOICE.
Goodreads

THE IMMORTALS QUARTET by Tamora Pierce*

So really myyy loooove is In the Realm of the Gods (book #4 of this series)--but start off with the first, featuring lovely King Arthurish Tortall and a girl who has a special affinity with animals.

*if you haven't read a Tamora Pierce book (Alana, at least) your life has been unfulfilled.

Goodreads

THE HAUNTING OF ALAIZABEL CRAY by Chris Wooding

Dark, chilling, set in Victorian London--this was the first steampunk-monsters novels I ever read, and I've been deeply in love with it ever since.

My Review/ Goodreads

THE WIND SINGER by William Nicholson:

Again, I'm in love with the VOICE and the WORLDBUILDING and the quirky characters and the fight between good and evil and LOVE.

Goodreads

THE SQUIRE'S TALES by Gerald Morris.

This one is a tricky one--just because the way I started reading this series was out of order, and when I finally read the first book I didn't love it as much as The Savage Damsel and the Dwarf; but there's no denying Gerald Morris is pretty much the go-to guy for funny, wonderful retellings of King Arthur mythology.

Goodreads

So I'll be honest and say this list is coming from the mind of a 10-year old*; many of these books were the books I grew up reading and loving and the reason I love reading at all. But I think anyone of any age can enjoy books that are well-written.

I used to only read fantasy; it' s not just these books or these series but the AUTHORS that I encourage you to check out, since some fantasy writers seem to like to write 30 books, which I don't mind, since then I have more to read.

Anyhow, I hope you'll love them too.

Thoughts on this list? Have you read any of them? ( I know some might be rather obscure books.) What would you add to this list if you could?

captivating thursday

2010-08-19T22:38:00.000-07:00

By the time this is posted it'll be nearly friday. But it's be so long (too long) since I did a CT.

Captivating Thursday is a meme hosted by me that showcases beautiful things--whether it be photos, quotes, poetry, music, videos, or anything else that I happen upon.

Love Devendra Banhart. Not posting the official vid of Foolin' cause it's just too weird, haha.

A STEP AWAY FROM THEM by Frank O'Hara (courtesy of www.frankohara.org)

It's my lunch hour, so I go
for a walk among the hum-colored
cabs. First, down the sidewalk
where laborers feed their dirty
glistening torsos sandwiches
and Coca-Cola, with yellow helmets
on. They protect them from falling
bricks, I guess. Then onto the
avenue where skirts are flipping
above heels and blow up over
grates. The sun is hot, but the
cabs stir up the air. I look
at bargains in wristwatches. There
are cats playing in sawdust.
On
to Times Square, where the sign
blows smoke over my head, and higher
the waterfall pours lightly. A
Negro stands in a doorway with a
toothpick, languorously agitating.
A blonde chorus girl clicks: he
smiles and rubs his chin. Everything
suddenly honks: it is 12:40 of
a Thursday.
Neon in daylight is a
great pleasure, as Edwin Denby would
write, as are light bulbs in daylight.
I stop for a cheeseburger at JULIET'S
CORNER. Giulietta Masina, wife of
Federico Fellini, è bell' attrice.
And chocolate malted. A lady in
foxes on such a day puts her poodle
in a cab.
There are several Puerto
Ricans on the avenue today, which
makes it beautiful and warm. First
Bunny died, then John Latouche,
then Jackson Pollock. But is the
earth as full as life was full, of them?
And one has eaten and one walks,
past the magazines with nudes
and the posters for BULLFIGHT and
the Manhattan Storage Warehouse,
which they'll soon tear down. I
used to think they had the Armory
Show there.
A glass of papaya juice
and back to work. My heart is in my
pocket, it is Poems by Pierre Reverdy.

source

"Everything was beautiful and nothing hurt."
-Kurt Vonnegut

source

"Let the rain kiss you. Let the rain beat on your head with silver liquid drops. Let the rain sing you a lullaby."

-Langston Hughes

source

"The library is inhabited by spirits that come out of the pages at night."

-Isabel Allende

source

I HAVE TO TELL YOU by Dorothea Grossman (courtesy of poetryfoundation.com)

I have to tell you,
there are times when
the sun strikes me
like a gong,
and I remember everything,
even your ears.

comfort books

2010-08-15T20:05:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I just want to curl up with a good book for a whole day and let my brain turn to goo as I immerse myself in a story.

I think it's the hecticness of everyday life that allows for purely escapist books--books designed only to entertain and to let the reader just be transported to an entirely different world for a while. I mean, it's not everyday that someone can go and read War & Peace--it takes a particular frame of mind to read a classic.

On the other hand--there are those beloved, dogeared books that I can sink into at any time, and at any moment, and I'm guaranteed to enjoy myself.

Somehow, I always turn to middle grade fantasy--it's so light and carefree and there's always hope in between the pages--a happy ending--and there's just this whimsical take on life that I adore.

My ultimate comfort book is Charmed Life; my comfort author--Diana Wynne Jones. I can't tell you how many times I've read her books and just let everything sink away--it's a good distraction from worrying about homework due the next day and friends and everything in between.

Her books are like chocolate--they make you feel better and they're delicious and you're always yearning for them, even when you don't know you're yearning.

As a matter of fact, comfort books = chocolate literature.

What types are books are your comfort reads? Any particular book/author? (Not gonna lie, I need some more comfort books to dive into.)

10 YA CONTEMPORARY BOOKS YOU SHOULD READ

2010-08-14T22:30:00.000-07:00

Here's a list. Some of these books have been reviewed, some haven't been yet. I tried to keep it brief and sum up why I love these books in a sentence--just know that if you pick a single book off this list to read, you can't go wrong.

Links are to Goodreads and/or to my past reviews.

JELLICOE ROAD by Melina Marchetta:

Beautifully written, infinitely layered--this book builds momentum so that the ending has the story coming together in a truly breathtaking way.

Goodreads

PAPER TOWNS by John Green

This is John Green at his absolute best--and there are bursts of mystery, yearning, hilarity and quirkiness mixed in.

Goodreads

THE ABSOLUTELY TRUE DIARY OF A PART TIME INDIAN by Sherman Alexie

This is the sort of book that will make you laugh and cry at the same time--and features one of the most endearing main characters I've ever come across.

My Review/ Goodreads

WINTERGIRLS by Laurie Halse Anderson

One of the most lyrical YA books I've ever read--a haunting depiction of anorexia by the acclaimed author of Speak.

Goodreads

I AM THE MESSENGER by Markus Zusak

The coming-of-age themes in this book are particularly strong--as is the arresting writing and humor.

Goodreads

CRACKED UP TO BE by Courtney Summers

One of the best protragonists I've ever come across--and a whole lot of snark and wonderful dialogue to go along.

My Review/ Goodreads

THE SKY IS EVERYWHERE by Jandy Nelson

Beautifully written, and heartbreaking, the poignancy of the book will stay with you long after you've read it.

My Review/ Goodreads

THE YEAR OF SECRET ASSIGNMENTS by Jacklyn Moriarty

Reading this book will be some of the best fun you've ever had--you'll laughing hysterically and be treated to a wonderful story at the same time.

My Review/ Goodreads

IF I STAY by Gayle Foreman

A bittersweet journey narrated in a nonlinear way, If I Stay will both capture your heart and break it too.

My Review/ Goodreads

HOLD STILL by Nina LaCour

The language throughout this book is what sets it apart--gorgeous sentence fragments in tune to the halting way the main character gets over the death of a loved one.

My Review/ Goodreads

I hope you'll at least try out one of these books on this list--they're truly some of my favorite YA books.

But are any of your favorite YA contempoary books on this list? Did I miss mentioning a book that was particularly earth-shattering?

waiting on wednesday

2010-08-11T20:38:00.000-07:00

Before scientists found the cure, people thought love was a good thing. They didn’t understand that once love -the deliria- blooms in your blood, there is no escaping its hold. Things are different now. Scientists are able to eradicate love, and the governments demands that all citizens receive the cure upon turning eighteen. Lena Holway has always looked forward to the day when she’ll be cured. A life without love is a life without pain: safe, measured, predictable, and happy.

But with ninety-five days left until her treatment, Lena does the unthinkable: She falls in love.

(summary courtesy of Goodreads)

***

The first word that comes to mind--perhaps because of the Delirium title--is delicious. Yes, I think this book is going to be positively scrumptious. *

Not only is it dystopian, but it's by Lauren Oliver, who wrote that very famous book Before I Fall. Really, I'm just looking forward to this book to see if Oliver continues with the flowy writing that I can't puzzle out because it's so purposely unobtrusive. And also, the premise definitely hooked me in.

Release Date: February 1st 2011

*so maybe I'm hungry--but for good books! And psst, chocolate.

on reading the great gastby

2010-08-10T21:40:00.000-07:00

I am currently rereading The Great Gatsby.

I'm revisiting the old haunts: Nick's bungalow in West Egg, Gatsby's lavish parties at night, Daisy's exuberance.

And then, there are the words.

Fitzgerald writes like no one else. I encountered further proof of this earlier last month when I read Tender is the Night--which, while a good book-- doesn't hold a candle to The Great Gatsby. But through all of Fitzgerald's work, there's one thing that can be expected: meticulously crafted, breathtaking prose.

Listen. I reread The Great Gatsby religiously. And it's not just because I love the glamor of the Jazz Age or the love affair between Gatsby and Daisy or the tragic ending. I read it mainly for the words.

But what do I mean, exactly?

For me at least, this book holds a sort of magnetism--which is sort of perfect, considering Gatsby's personality. It draws me in. I can't help but revisit on summer days and winter nights, luxuriating in the sentences.

It's hard to explain, unless you've read this book. And this book is relatively thin--175 pages or so, the elegaic blue cover that's lasted through the ages gracing the front. Inside though, there's enough room for genius. I'm amazed and my mind is blown every single time *and sometimes I'm speechless, and then just amazed, again. Because if you really look at Fitzgerald's prose: if you realize that the flow is incomparable to any author out there and it's as if you know what word is going to come next--this book goes from great to nothing short of titanic. It's really the rhythm of Fitzgerald's sentences-- dictating what precise but beautiful word most come right now and right here--that makes it feel like you are immersed in a beautiful dream.

I also like to think it's similar to observing a work of art. Fitzgerald is like Monet: if his words were encased in a museum, in painting form, they'd shine out with this sort of vivid, enchanting quality. They're colorful and rich. There's layers to them. Every time you look at them, there's something new to be found. Even the most elementary sentence serves some higher purpose.

I can't wrap my mind around just how very good Fitzgerald had to be to write something like this.

I set out to write this post with the intention of convincing the hordes (you guys) to read this book, if you haven't already. I haven't said much of plot: there's Nick, the removed narrator that watches as Daisy and Gatsby--to put in simple terms, have a fling. Daisy is married, of course, and rich and superficial, but she's got this flimsy prettiness--she glides through the pages, fluttering everywhere. Then there's Gatsby: hopelessly in love with Daisy, pining after her, but enigmatic and charismatic. This book is really about them, and about the excess of the 20's.

Consequently, there are a lot of parties and a lot of mansions.

I don't know what else I can say to convince anyone. Maybe that, in my opinion--Fitzgerald is the best writer of prose. Usually I hesitate to make blanket statements--how can I know, since I haven't read every author out there? It's just--I don't mean that other authors don't have better plot or characters--but Fitzgerald, the best sentences of all time? The best prose?

For my reading tastes, yes. He's my soul-author.

And here are some quotes from The Great Gatsby that will show you why:

The wind had blown off, leaving a loud, bright night, with wings beating in the trees and a persistent organ sound as the full bellows of the earth blew the frogs full of life. The silhouette of a moving cast wavered across the moonlight, and turning my head to watch it, I saw that I was not alone--fifty feet away a figure had emerged from the shadow of my neighbor's mansion and was standing with his hands in his pockets regarding the silver pepper of the stars.

There was music from my neighbor's house through the summer nights. In his blue gardens men and girls came and went like moths among the whisperings and the champagne and the stars. At high tide in the afternoon I watched his guests diving from the tower of his raft, or taking the sun on the hot sand of his beach while his two motor-boats slit the waters of the Sound, drawing aquaplanes over cataracts of foam.

The exhilarating ripple of her voice was a wild tonic in the rain. I had to follo0w the sound of it for a moment, up and down, with my ear alone, before any words came through. A damp streak of hair lay like a dash of blue paint across her cheek, and her hand was wet with glistening drops as I took it to help her from the car.

Fitzegerald writes of love gone wrong and old men with owl-glasses, ash valleys with clouds of gray particles and owners of ostentatious cars. Most of all, light flutters through his story. And his words: they leave me with an impression of white dresses ghosting through jazz music, guests tipsy with bootleg gin on blueblack nights.

Please, read this book. And then please love it.

A very humongous blogoversary contest

2010-08-08T15:51:00.000-07:00

Yes, you heard right--I am holding a "very humongous blogoversary contest". It only seems right: I started this blog here almost exactly a year ago now. And I'm celebrating, erm, still having a blog? Actually having people who occasionally stop by a comment on my posts, because they want to, and not because I force them too? Just being able to call myself a blogger?

Yes, by all measurements, in which a girl reads has been a rollicking success. This blog has survived the treacherous waters of a recent 4-month slump, posts that don't quite make sense, and innumerable fantasies about chocolate books and unicorns.

But on to the contest!

There will be three lucky winners who get to choose from a pile of 25 books that you see above.

Three winners:
1. First winner gets choice of 3 books from pile
2. Second winner gets choice of 2 books remaining in pile
3. Third winner gets choice of 1 book remaining from pile

Contest info:
1. Yes, it's INTERNATIONAL. It wouldn't be quite fair to have a blogoversary contest celebrating you guys and thee blog when it seems like half of you are from outside of the US.
2. Ends September 19th, 11:00 PM EST
3. Entries in the comments don't count. You must fill out the form.

What's up for grabs:

1. Mockingjay by Suzanne Collins
2. The Duff by Kody Keplinger (ARC)
3. You by Charles Benoit
3. Clockwork Angel by Cassandra Clare
4. Linger by Maggie Steivafater
5. The Forest of Hands and Teeth by Carrie Ryan
6. Candor by Pam Bachorz
7. Infinity by Sherrilyn Kenyon
8. Paranormalcy by Kiersten White
9. The Iron King by Julie Kagawa
10. The Sky is Everywhere by Jandy Nelson
11. Hold Still be Nina De LaCour
12. City of Bones by Cassandra Clare
13. Sea by Heidi R. Kling
14. Accomplice by Eireann Corrigan
15. Nothing Like You by Lauren Strasnick
16. Melting Stones by Tamora Pierce
17. You Wish by Mandy Hubbard
18. Howl’s Moving Castle by Diana Wynne Jones
19. The Book Thief by Markus Zusak
20. Paper Towns by John Green
21. Need by Carrie Jones
22. The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time by Mark Haddon
23. Graceling by Kristin Cashore
24. The Ask and the Answer by Patrick Ness
25. If I Stay by Gayle Forman

To enter, fill out this form here

new look, old blog

2010-08-06T21:08:00.000-07:00

So finally I've taken a step back from my compulsive layout-fiddling. It's been several days, and my blog has gone through several possible layouts. (I should've taken screenshots. I went a little nuts, and would spend a few hours configuring a layout, and then decide I hated it, and then toss it. Yeah, I'm productive like that. )

So you can understand the process. At one point I banged my head against the keyboard repeatedly. You see, I'd set the bar high. I wanted something minimalist and pretty and something that I had a significant part in designing myself.

Er, that didn't really happen. The template you see here was altered only slightly a bit--mostly colors and such. It's minimalist, but not exactly pretty. There are still some minor changes I want to make.

Through this process, though, I have learned two things:

1. Never, never install intense debate (a commenting system)on your blog if you want to have future template flexibility. I fell in love with this template:But when I installed it, unfortunately it wasn't intense-debate compatible. I (unsuccessfully) tried to build a similar looking one from scratch, but yeah, didn't work. My CSS skills aren't really existent.

DARN YOU, INTENSE DEBATE!

Ahem.

2. I need to learn when to stop. Haha. Really. I wasted so much time on layouts I didn't even write posts. Heh. Heh. *wrenches self away from "Edit HTML" button*

Anyhow, love you guys for sticking around at my old little blog, even when I've been so flaky the last few months. But now it's practically the weekend, so I will soon be burrowing my nose into several books and reporting back to you on them.

Just wanted to say that this is one of the times where I wish I was either 1) Absolved of library fines 2) Insanely, filthily rich so I could get my hands on a huge stack of books. I don't know about you, but don't you just love seeing book piles around your room? It's exciting--I don't know if I'm going to fall completely in love with one of those unread books.

Rambles aside, I'm curious. What have been some of your template/layout/design frustrations?

pardon my mess + hinty hinty blogoversary month upcoming!

2010-07-28T22:24:00.001-07:00

I'll be tinkering with some design elements in the next few days, so pardon any mess you might come across. The blog is not usually so hideous, I promise. My room, on the other hand...

ANYHOW, I think the layout will look lots better when I'm done. There will definitely be a different header and maybe one less column than usual and definitely different color schematics. I can't say more than that because more than that, I don't know.

And.

It came to my attention that my blogoversary (am I really that old? Is this blog really that old?) is approaching. This blog here will be exactly one years old in August.

So, maybe that calls for a little celebration? A hey, how-the-heck-did-this-blog-stay-alive-post? Maybe, a....contest?

Keep you eyes peeled, I'll be figuring out details soon :)

a (late) waiting on wednesday fangirl fest

2010-07-28T22:03:00.001-07:00

It is late and I am already half asleep and time has run away as it so often does these days. But I need to write this Waiting on Wednesday post.

You see, I'd planned it to be about a certain book.

A book called BRIDGE OF CLAY.

As of now, there's only a snippet of a blurb:

It's about a boy.
His name is Clay.
He's building a bridge.
And he wants that bridge to be something truly great and miraculous.

And there isn't a cover yet. It's coming out (supposedly) in half a year. February 3rd, 2011. I'm marking that day on my calendar. It's got a big heart around it. I know my reading mind will be blown on that day--

because--ladies and gentlemen--

that's when the latest Markus Zusak book comes out.

Most of you know him from authoring the famous, the wonderful, the amazing, THE BOOK THIEF. Maybe you've read I AM THE MESSENGER too. Maybe you're a crazy fangirl/ fanboy too. I've probably squealed with you together about Zusak before--he seems to come up so often and whenever he does I have to join in and say my part--

that his words are so beautiful. That they changed my life. That I like to pick up his books in misplaced minutes of the day and spend a few breaths fingering the smooth pages. Reading them over again.

Zusak is one of the reasons--one of the authors--that are the reason I love to read.

And his new book?

That I've been so eagerly awaiting? Even when they changed the release date from September 2009 to 2010 and now to February 2011?

The book that I've been burrowing my nosy nose into the interwebs to find details about? (I found relatively little: that Zusak has been wanting to write this book for something like ten years. That he wants it to be better than The Book Thief. That he spends a painstaking amount of time making sure his drafts are as perfect as can be.)

I don't know anything about it. I have a title and a small blurb, but there's something to be said when you know nothing about a book, but already know you'll love it just because of who's writing it.

I'm excited and hoping and wishing that I had BRIDGE OF CLAY in my hands right now. 2011 can't come fast enough.

review: hold still

2010-07-26T09:00:00.000-07:00

Summary:
An arresting story about starting over after a friend’s suicide, from a breakthrough new voice in YA fiction.

dear caitlin, there are so many things that i want so badly to tell you but i just can’t.

Devastating, hopeful, hopeless, playful . . . in words and illustrations, Ingrid left behind a painful farewell in her journal for Caitlin. Now Caitlin is left alone, by loss and by choice, struggling to find renewed hope in the wake of her best friend’s suicide. With the help of family and newfound friends, Caitlin will encounter first love, broaden her horizons, and start to realize that true friendship didn’t die with Ingrid. And the journal which once seemed only to chronicle Ingrid’s descent into depression, becomes the tool by which Caitlin once again reaches out to all those who loved Ingrid—and Caitlin herself.

My Opinion:

Hold Still is the latest YA book that I've fallen in love with. And to be honest, I don't fall in love with books that often. I think it's mostly because of the beautiful writing--LaCour's prose can only be described as lyrical and breathtaking. And as you might know by now, I'm a sucker for gorgeous novels.

Hold Still tells the story of Caitlin, but also of Ingrid, her best friend. Ingrid--a talented photographer with a future, a girl that seems happy before she kills herself. Her suicide devastates Caitlin, who doesn't know how to carry on in the year following Ingrid's death--and the halting and painful interactions she has with others only complicates her sense of loss. The combination of unwanted sympathy and morbid curiosity from her classmates leaves Caitlin feeling isolated at school. Her parents are convinced that her grief needs an outlet--they're worried that she's depressed. Her once friendly photography teacher won't even talk to her. On the other hand, Taylor, a skater-boy who's far too nice, keeps trying to talk to her.

Caitlin dwells on memories of Ingrid; remembrances of her best friend seem to materialize everywhere. Under her bed, Caitlin finds Ingrid's journal, and she knows she's meant to read it. The short journal entries, including Ingrid's confessions and sketches, appear periodically throughout Hold Still. They illuminate Ingrid's state of mind--one minute agonizing over her crush, the other confessing that she "can't stop crying." These excerpts are heartfelt and earnest--and quite touching. Other elements of the book--Caitlin's projects, involving photography and woodwork; and the fact that her lesbian friend Dylan's sexuality is a non-issue-- are also captured well.

It's really not the premise of Hold Still that caught my attention (YA already has it's fair share of girl-getting-over-death-of-loved-one)--but the execution. I did a little happy dance inside after reading the first pages of Hold Still--right away, I knew this would be one of the rare times I had to buy a book. So I did. And I'm really glad I did. It's by the grace of LaCour's language that Hold Still is able to hold it's own against the multitude of grief books already out there. To me, it's what allows the book to stand out.

The lyricism of the writing, the sentence fragments, and the setup of the book--the chapters are fragmented, brief vignettes of scenes from Caitlin's life-- all combined to make this one of the best YA books I've read in the last few months. Through the space of 200-something pages, readers are taken along a journey with Caitlin. A heartbreaking, poignant journey of grief that still manages to resonate with beauty.

My Rating: I give it a 9/10. I haven't given out a 9/10 FOR TWO MONTHS, peeps. AKA this means you really should pick up a copy ASAP. Really.

my trip to strand bookstore

2010-07-25T21:38:00.001-07:00

While gallivanting around NYC, we were too stingy to hire a cab, or too smart*. But by late afternoon, I was dragging my feet across Lower Manhattan after walking what must have been literally ten miles. I was waiting at the crosswalk when I looked up and--there it was--the red signage of Strand Bookstore. A crowd clustered around book bargain shelves outside. I could see the promising outlines of books from where I was standing. I felt this little jab in my chest, because Strand had just appeared out of no where, and this bookstore that I'd wanted to visit for ages was suddenly smack-dab in front of me.

It was like something out of a dream.

I'd heard of Strand before--mostly on the blogosphere--and I knew what a huge reputation it had. So when I saw the steady crowd entering and leaving--I knew this wasn't a chance I could miss. I'd be lucky if I made it to NYC again in the next ten years. So I ran inside before my Mom could stop me. The air conditioning** was like the icing on a cake.

Inside there was a whole lot of wood, and a whole lot of books. A crowd milled; the checkout line snaking from the cashiers to the beginning of the bookshelves. I'd honestly never been in such a crowded bookstore--except, in NYC-- everything's crowded. The first level was fiction--I took a quick glance before vaulting up stairs, passing an mezzanine to arrive on the second floor. I hadn't a clue where the YA section was, but at this point I was just trying to burrow my way as far into the interior of this bookstore, and hope I'd never be found. I felt like I could spend a week in there, buried in books, and be completely content.

I turned left and spotted a banner that read "Children & Young Adults." I'm sure I half-fell, half-sprinted in my eagerness to get there. The bookshelves were extraordinarily tall, reaching up to the ceiling--the top shelves only accessible to eight-foot-tall giants. So I craned my neck up, and craned my neck down, and knelt on the floor and craned my neck every which way to get a good look at the titles.

Once I'd spent maybe a minute there, I knew this was the best bookstore for YA I'd ever been in. It probably had ten times the selection of my local bookstore. And to top it off, the prices were all at discounts--cheaper the Amazon, cheaper than almost anywhere I'd been. I saw so many titles I recognized, but a whole bunch I didn't, and it was honestly quite overwhelming. Add in the fact that I knew my parents would find me any minute and tell me we had to leave, like RIGHT NOW, and I was sort of jumping back and forth in between shelves and raking through them in a crazed manner. I took a quick glance at the children's section--stared longingly at the sign that proclaimed that rare children's books could be found a level or so up--and vaulted back downstairs in search of lost parents.

But lo and behold--parents were miraculously engrossed in books of their own! So I frantically raced back up the stairs and started looking more at the YA section. I think at this point I knew I was in trouble--THIS WAS A SERIOUS DECISION, here. I had to buy something, but I didn't know what to buy.

Indecision is a terrible thing.

I looked for books I'd been wanting to read, looked for ARCs (as I heard the Strand was rumored to carry some). But sadly, there weren't copies of the books I'd been looking for a long time and hadn't been able to find--like Fighting Reuben Wolfe by Markus Zusak. Still, there was an ample amount of selection. Just as I was about to grab a title, my Dad appeared.

"Your Mom's already checking out."

Darnit. Darnit. Darnit.

So I leapt back down the stairs. The thing about the Strand was, that even though the lines were really, impressively long--they moved fast. By the time I got there my Mom was halfway through the line. I spent a few precious minutes sizing up the Strand bookstore bags they had, and then the very awesome t-shirts styled after book covers (They had ones for Catcher in the Rye, Lolita, and Slaughter-House Five, to name a few.)

Then I went billowing down the first floor again, and snatched up a copy of Italo Calvino's If On a Winter's Night, which has come up before on this blog (wahoo!) and that I wanted to read because it'd been sort of chasing after me for a while (blog mention, several real-life mentions.)

I got back and it was my Mom's turn.

Bespectacled Mom: "Are you getting the bag?"

Me: "Err. Um. *claws at price tag* It's only twelve dollars!"

BM: "It's a nice bag. You should get it. "

Me: "Urm. Um. Still...*stinginess overrides buyer's compulsion* Ummmmmmmm. *vacillates* I'll just get the book."

So my dad's book--The Next 100 Years: A Forecast for the 21st Century--was scanned. Mine was scanned. The worker slid the two books into a frightening shade of yellow bag.

And just like that, we were officially proud costumers of Strand Bookstore. I was grinning ear to ear as I stepped back into the sweltering heat and into the mob-crowd populating NYC.

All in all, my Strand experience was a little panicky, and quite a bit rushed. I think that maybe we were in there for fifteen minutes. To be fair, my Mom would have stayed longer if there were any chairs, which there didn't seem to be, and fifteen minutes of standing after walking nonstop the whole day was pretty painful.

I don't know how I'll make it back to the Strand, but next time I think I need to set aside a few days so I can spend some quality time in there, haha. And I'll actually buy books--I had to keep my load light, since we had a ways to go until we got to the train station. :)

And now, the end result...

TA-DA!

1 abbreviated Strand experience = 2 books + 1 strand bag + 1 overexcited blogger.

* traffic in the Big Apple quite honestly scares the crap out of me. It's like you're battling for your life at every moment, haha.
** It was about 100 degrees outside. *dies*

why book tv is the shiz

2010-07-24T22:16:00.000-07:00

Don't ask me how, but it's happened: I've increasingly found myself doing things for fun that I would've classified as boring just a a few months ago.

I'm enjoying myself whilst:

1. I get my hands on some nonfiction books. Not memoirs, but these sort of factual, research beasts of books. This is monumental, since I've stayed as far away from nonfiction as possible for a long time.

2. I've found out that mushrooms taste sort of okay now. I used to hate them. (Just throwing that out there.)

3. Instead of frying my brain with the latest episodes of The Real Housewives of New Jersey, I've been flopping in front of news shows of the dry variety. And also, um, a certain TV channel called Book TV.

Now, Book TV basically consists of mostly old and incredibly smart people getting up in front of a microphone and talking about very complicated things for a very long time. There are usually shots of the audience that come on screen every once in a while to interrupt the monotony of filming nothing but an old guy's speech for an hour. The audience is usually slumped in their seats, about ready to fall asleep.

So what's so great about this seemingly boring network?

At first, I thought nothing. I was disappointed that whenever I flipped Book TV on, it didn't cover the books I wanted covered. Children's books. YA books. I've heard maybe one mention of YA the whole time I've been watching--a publisher rep saying that sales were doing great in the YA section.

After a hammering on my remote to look ahead at the show schedule, I figured out that Book TV basically covers nonfiction books.

The things is, I'd at first hoped that Book TV would be the TV counterpart of book blogs. But it's not. It couldn't be more different. But somehow, I still want to watch Book TV.

Because those people who are rambling on my TV screen? Who are so passionate about a topic that they're experts? Who are talking about mind-blowing theories they've come up with? They're not just people--they're authors. And I find that fascinating. I find it wonderful that there's actually room on TV to host programs on authors and their upcoming books. And Book TV features book signings and lectures and in depth interviews. A few days ago, my eyes were glued to the screen as Alan Brinkley talked about the life of Henry Luce (the publisher of TIME) for an hour. And I thought it was a pretty darn amazing program.

I think maybe this ties into getting--for the first time in my life--to go to a a few author readings this summer. What those authors said--when I sat down in front of them--was pretty amazing too. I meant to ask them questions; I swore I would--but I never managed to work up the courage (next time, I promise). But people around me did. I especially loved it when an author said flat-out: "that topic you feel like you shouldn't write about ? That's exactly what you should be writing" to a member of the audience.

That's pretty great advice, in my opinion.

I think seeing an author talk in front of you is invaluable. Especially when they're talking about their book or their writing or their reading or anything. Their words are gold. Sometimes, you even come across authors that speak like their writing--the same amount of eloquence and thought behind words that are conjured up right in front of you. It's sort of like magic.

So that's why Book TV--for all it's shortcomings--is really the shiz on tv nowadays.

If you're a history nerd or you like nonfiction or you just like listening to people who are smart, I'd recommend that if you have C-SPAN2, flip to it on the weekends (it transforms to Book TV by some unfathomable process). It might seem a little dull at first, but it's amazing once you settle down and realize that it's really very cool.

Or, better yet, attend some book readings with Q&A's if you haven't already. I live in an area where it makes it hard, but it's definitely worth it. By now, I think I've become addicted to listening to authors talk. Luckily, there are worse things to be addicted to. :)

new email address!

2010-07-24T12:16:00.000-07:00

So finally, I've decided that I've had enough. Mostly because every time I check my email, I encounter a wall of 50 or so spam messages. Since my email inbox is such a catastrophe, it makes it harder for me to respond to everyone and keep organized and generally keep my brain from exploding.

Here's my solution:

My new blog email address is inwhichagirlreads@gmail.com

From now on, I'd appreciate it if you sent any emails for me to that address. I'll be updating the contact information on my blog accordingly in the next few days, and I'll still be checking my old email, chocowrites@gmail.com, from time to time. But I'm trying to gradually transition away from the spam breeding ground that is my email.

Thanks and I hope the switch won't inconvenience any of you :)

back in gear

2010-07-21T20:19:00.000-07:00

WHY HELLO THERE STRANGERS!

How has everyone been this summer? Anything really exciting, monumental, gorgeous, otherwise comment-mention-worthy happen to you? I think the most exciting thing that's happened to me this week is being reunited with my computer, and therefore the interwebs. Also, logging onto this blog, which will hopefully be having regular updates again starting NOW.

I totally mean this.

Post-fright? Totally not gonna win.
Summer vacation? Neutralized by suburbia, and 24-7 access to the internet
ALL MANNER OF THINGS THAT HAVE STOPPED ME BLOGGING? Dealt with. Sort of. (kinda haven't dealt with eradicating homework and the human need I have to sleep at times.)

ANYHOW, I WILL BLOG.

There. It's in concrete (bold) writing, and you guys are fully allowed to complain if I don't start posting again. And commenting, and visiting all your blogs, and just generally being a blogger again. In the next few days I'll be catching up with all the emails I have sitting in my inbox (a scary amount). I just wanted to remind you all that if you've sent me an email and I haven't got a reply, and you want one, just go ahead and resend it. I don't mind at all, and it gives your email more chance of it standing out from the hordes of spam :) The spam problem is quite a big one, so I might be switching to another email address. I'll let you guys know when it happens.

On another side note: it's pretty sad that the airport bookstore (which is teensy) has better selection than my own local bookstore. I snagged a copy of STORMGLASS by Maria V. Snyder (after being miffed that they had book #2 MAGIC STUDY but not #1 POISON STUDY) to start off my Snyder experience via airplane ride, since I've heard from many awesome bloggers that Snyder and her books are completely awesome (I finally bowed down to the pressure of all that awesome) . And also I have an copy of THE DUFF by Kody Keplinger lying about six inches away from me, and I am SO excited to dig in--it's one of the 2010 books I've been anticipating the most.

But enough about me and my oh-so-shiny books. WHAT ABOUT YOU?

What are you guys reading, doing over the summer, and DOING AT THIS VERY MOMENT (besides reading this)? TELL ME!

brain-spewage (1)

2010-07-04T20:05:00.000-07:00

Inspired by the comments on my previous post, I decided I'd write (and then post) whatever the heck that comes to mind at this moment. Sort of as an exercise against post-fright.

I am reading Hemingway. It's a war book: For Whom the Bell Tolls , "intensely emotional"; it says on a cover with soft rolling mountains melding to golden sky. I'm reading Hemingway for a number of reasons: 1) I was told it'd cure me of liking purple prose (which it hasn't yet) 2) I sort of feel obligated, since I haven't read Hemingway yet, and feel like an ignoramus whenever someone fawns over him and says, "Ah, yes, Hemingway. The greatest writer of the 20th century." 3) It was closer on the bed table to me then Tender is the Night. I find it hugely funny that I'm reading Fitzgerald and Hemingway at the same time. Such a clash of styles: one beautiful and flowery prose, the other simple and plain prose. It's sort of making my brain dizzy--and I'm feeling like I should just dive into T.S. Eliot solely to make a triumvirate of expatriates.

Anyhow, reading as much literature as I am this summer is getting to be life-changing. I just finished Edible Woman by Margaret Atwood, and it was mind-bogglingly good and just sort of added to my feeling that I'm madly in love with Atwood and everything that she writes. (I will have to do a review of EW soon).

And what can I say of the poetry I've been reading?

Ah, poetry. Frank O'Hara sort of captures the mood I'm feeling today: the intensity of the now. At this moment my feet are planted against the wall, I am in pajamas, and the fan is fluttering in the air. Outside is violet dusk; I am expecting to hear the crack of fireworks, see colors splashing the sky at any moment now.

And these lines* are ringing in my head, a trapped song playing over and over again:

oh god it's wonderful
to get out of bed
and drink too much coffee
and smoke too many cigarettes
and love you so much

I just realized that this has been happening a lot--getting words stuck in my brain. But it's not annoying in the way songs can be. I don't think I can get annoyed by lines like:

"and was standing with his hands in his pockets regarding the silver pepper of the stars."

It's sort of like getting bits of beauty rumbling around in my mind. Which I quite like.

Here are a few pictures I took while in a plane. And no, I don't where this is.

Thinking about it, this is definitely my most exciting summer I've ever had--

the fireworks have started and my dog is going crazy. I put down Hemingway for a bit, run outside without shoes on. I am in time to watch as colors skim across the horizon. I take pictures until my arms ache, but nothing stabilizes. I get either smoky dark sky, or few lights sprinkled across, or edges of the fireworks. It's mostly the sound that stands out; too late, I realize that I should've taken a video.

I guess it's all about timing.

Now I'm thinking about the dialogue in Hemingway's--it's so choppy, with periods where I'm used to commas--and also, remembering someone saying how it's strange that we actually read our literary tradition backwards. I read 21st century authors before I did 17th century authors. Cormac McCarthy's prose makes sense in light of Hemingway's.

And now I feel oddly better for having rambled. And managing to ramble in a book-related way. And then managing to post my ramblings, even if it's because I'm half-asleep and can't think enough to feel nervous about posting.

I hope everyone had a wonderful 4th of July :)

* From "Steps" by O'Hara, second quote is from The Great Gatsby

post-fright?

2010-07-03T19:23:00.000-07:00

So I haven't been posting much lately (sans internet summer, here) or interacting much on the blogosphere at all (please forgive me?). But, something's been bothering me lately: I could've posted a least a few things if I wanted to. There are a sprinkling of posts I managed to write sporadically during a few rare moments of down time. Posting that material would've lessened the current drought of posts, at least.

But for some reason, I didn't. Post, I mean.

*steels self*

Do any of you guys ever get--post-fright?*

I'm sort of wallowing in it at the moment.

But seeing that it's gone on this long, it's getting sort of ridiculous. Now I have a bunch of posts stockpiling in my "drafts" folder, yet I can't seem to actually--y'know--post them.

Weird, huh?

I mean, this post is okay to publish because it's fluff and just me rambling, but the discussion posts I have typed up (a few reflections, rants, etc) are moldering. So are my reviews and all the other stuff I used to post.

The cause of post-fright isn't that I don't want to post, or even--despite the "fright" part of the term--because I'm afraid of my posts or of publishing them. Okay, maybe a little bit of the afraid-to-post factor is weighing in, even if I don't want to admit it.

But truly, I don't know what it is. I think it's maybe a combination of a bunch of stuff:

1. The posts I'm writing aren't measuring up to my own, personal standards:
a) I'll set off to write a post, and then it comes out quite differently than I originally intended, and then I figure I'll fix it sometime and eventually post, but don't.
b) The style of my posts. I was okay with letting a casual tone reign free (as in the post) and then trying to clean it up a bit for reviews & discussions. But now, I'm wondering what to stick with. I mean, I like that when I'm writing these posts it just feels like I'm having a conversation with you guys. (I totally write how I speak, haha), but I dunno--I feel like maybe I should be paying more attention to what I'm actually writing rather than just spewing it unedited into the nebulous tendrils of the internet.

2. I'm struggling with deciding what direction this blog is going to take, because--well, I haven't been reading much YA lately. A spattering of lovely YA books, but--I don't know, I feel almost claustrophobic when I get to my (poorly) stocked bookstore and just sort of falter in front of the YA section that I love so much and know and love--and then I end up not picking up anything. It's a strange predicament.

3. The thought that springs up occasionally: that this is my blog so I should just do whatever I feel at the moment and have fun. Yet the stuff I have in mind at the moment isn't post-material-stuff. More like put-everyone-to-sleep-stuff.

Eh.

Anyhow, sorry for the ramble and then self-blogging analysis :)

But, have any of you had a similar problem of post-fright? (Please tell me I'm not the only one). How did you deal with it? What did you do?

Edit: Yikes,I had to struggle even to post this post. I think this is a very serious and advanced case of post-fright. (~~HELP ME!~~)

*seemed the best term for it.

**P.S. I MISS YOU GUYS AND WILL TRY TO COMMENT UNTIL I'M SPAMMING YOUR LOVELY BLOGS WITH COMMENTS
P.P.S I'm sorry for dropping off the face of the earth
P.P.P.S Yes, I am still officially dropped off the face of the earth
P.P.P.P.S YES, I am reading. As a matter of fact, that stuff I'm reading is sort of mind-blowing and therefore life-changing--hey, maybe I should write a post about that---
P.P.P.P.P.S I'll write that post, promise.
P.P.P.P.P.P.S. Did I mention how much I love you guys?
P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S I hope you're not finding these P.S's obnoxious*, tehe. (* I've always loved how there's a "noxious" in obNOXIOUS, like the P.S. or person or other subject is making you feel sick and queasy as well as being annoying.)
P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S. I really should stop. Hey, have you guys ever played bananagrams? It's only the best game, ever.
Stopping now.

winner of LE GIVEAWAY

2010-06-24T19:06:00.000-07:00

so (a zillion years later) I have the lucky winner of a copy of Amy and Roger's Epic Detour and a digital keychain!

*drumroll*

And THE LUCKY, THE BLESSED, THE ONE AND ONLY....

SOPHIA LEE!

You have an email from me in your inbox and have 48 hours to respond with your address or I'll pick a another winner.

Also guys so, so sorry that I haven't been around lately! It's just been this huge rush but ZOMG
summer camp is awesome. I will have to tell you all about it someday.

<333

brb & reminder to enter a giveaway that's ending TODAY

2010-06-19T19:11:00.000-07:00

So I've been off on vacation for a few days, and had thought I'd have internet access and time to scrounge up posts.

Key word here is *thought*.

Anyhow, my posting might be a bit sketchy for a bit, as I really have no idea how much interwebs access I'll be getting for the next few weeks. Or books access, for that matter. Bahhh. Situations like this almost make me consider investing in a Kindle.

Just letting you know guys know and hope you're having a wonderful summer :)

P.S. <333333333

P.P.S: HURRY UP AND ENTER to win Amy & Roger's Epic Detour plus a digital keychain. Today's the last day!

review: incarceron

2010-06-16T17:01:00.000-07:00

Summary:

Incarceron -- a futuristic prison, sealed from view, where the descendants of the original prisoners live in a dark world torn by rivalry and savagery. It is a terrifying mix of high technology -- a living building which pervades the novel as an ever-watchful, ever-vengeful character, and a typical medieval torture chamber -- chains, great halls, dungeons. A young prisoner, Finn, has haunting visions of an earlier life, and cannot believe he was born here and has always been here. In the outer world, Claudia, daughter of the Warden of Incarceron, is trapped in her own form of prison -- a futuristic world constructed beautifully to look like a past era, an imminent marriage she dreads. She knows nothing of Incarceron, except that it exists. But there comes a moment when Finn, inside Incarceron, and Claudia, outside, simultaneously find a device -- a crystal key, through which they can talk to each other. And so the plan for Finn's escape is born ...

My Opinion:

Incarceron is a queer mixture of dystopian and fantastical imaginings, a historical setting and futuristic technology. It's two books in one, and several different genres in one. Incarceron is a very complex, intricately plotted out book that will appeal to both boys and girls eager for a few hours of reading escape.

The novel opens with Finn, one of many captives of the vast and mysterious prison called Incarceron. In this strange land, there is no sunlight, conditions are similar to dark age poverty, and crime runs rampant. Predictably so, since this is a place full of criminals and bands of warriors. It's a prison fashioned for the most pitiable and corrupt of the human race.

There are two rules: no one is let out, and no one comes in. Except Finn--who can't remember anything before three years ago--and who believes he's from the Outside even though no one else believes him. The story really starts when Finn, his mentor Gildas, his arrogant and vain oath-brother Keiro, and devoted dog-girl Attia set off in a quest to reach Outside. Finn's found a crystal key, and he's determined to Escape, see the stars, and find out who he really is.

The novel is told in 3rd person, and periodically alternates to focus on Claudia, the daughter of the Warden of Incarceron. She's ridiculously pampered but fears her grim and powerful father, who's forcing Claudia into a betrothal that she doesn't want. But the key that she steals from her father's study might just be her way out of it.

A key that looks a lot like Finn's.

I feel equal turns exhilarated and frustrated by Incarceron. It's exactly the sort of adventurous sci-fi/fantasy that I'm craving more of in YA, and is told in a very British, middle grade-like tone.

The imagination of Fisher is outstanding. Actually, scratch that: it's not really the originality of her individual concepts that's striking. It's the way she puts different elements of myths and fantasy to new use. And it's a very strange, awesome dystopian world that Incarceron takes place in. Claudia's world is highly reminiscent of the 18th century--the outrageous dresses, the estates, and the inequality between rich and poor. For a world that should be highly futuristic-- there are hints of very advanced technology--it's surprisingly familiar. The people of the Outside have sealed themselves in a strict time period, doing away with any progress for the sake of peace.

The inside of Incarceron itself is vague. It's one of the things I liked least about this book. Fisher has brief flashes of description where I was able to visualize the world in detail, but for the most part, the setting was sparse in details. And in this sort of book--where plot and setting are everything--it's not a fault that a reader can easily brush by. I also had a problem with the characterization--the characters were distant, hastily-formed, and I couldn't relate to any of them. I didn't dislike them or anything-- I just felt like an observer while I watched them get into one perilous situation after the next. I really couldn't bring myself to deeply care for their well-being. Basically, while Finn and his companions were about to be destroyed I would think, "Hmm, this is fascinating,"not, "OMG NOESS SAVE YOURSELF AHH."

Still, Incarceron is a bit stunning in it's scope. There are many elements of Greek mythology woven in, and world-building comes off as both cliche and brilliant. A terrifying beast made of recycled parts that resides in the depths of a cave resembles a dragon, the three blind women who spin and pass judgment are remarkably similar to the three Fates, golden apples grow on metallic trees, and Incarceron's many pathways, terrors, and wonders are vaguely reminiscent of the labyrinth from Theseus. On the other hand, Claudia's world has a whole set of over-used characters and situations: a foolish prince, a power-hungry Queen, a plot to overthrow the monarchy, wise tutors, an arranged (unwanted) marriage, and of course--the ever-present* missing heir to the kingdom. Still, as overused as these elements are, they work. Work well, actually.

It kept me reading, after all. Engrossed.

And this book kept me guessing. I love books with a tangled mess of a plot and huge--or several huge--secrets that will explain every mystery that unfolds throughout. I have such great fun coming up with theories while reading. I guessed some of Fisher's revelations--the ones about Finn and Claudia are particularly cliche. Other revelations were more unexpected, but explained in what seemed like a few sparse sentences or two at the end, so they seemed hardly believable. In fact, the ending was rushed and a bit sloppy. But it did leave room for a sequel--and considering the flawed but exciting ride that Incarceron took me on--I want the second book, Sapphique, in my hands this very second.

So, I have mixed feelings about Incarceron. However, it manages to hold together as fantastical romp that was very fun to read. It's a definite must-read for those of you who enjoyed Garth Nix's Key to the Kingdom series. I can also see fans who are hankering for Mockingjay's release enjoying this book during the wait.**

My rating: I give it a 7.75/10. It really depends how much you love fantasy/dystopia/adventure. If you can't ever get enough, definitely pick this one up. If you're more meh on those genres, pass on it.

* I mean, why do so many fantasy books have to either involve missing heirs to the kingdom or center around royal/noble MC's? Even MC's that start off as slaves or nobodys manage to (impossibly) claw their way up. Le sigh.

** I think we should sign petitions ordering them to release Mockingjay NOW. Who's with me? Haha, jk :p

thoughts on a common element in YA

2010-06-15T17:03:00.000-07:00

There's something I've been pondering for a while, ever since I've begun reading more and more YA contemporary. I've been thinking about it as I've encountered some of my all-time favorite books. Books that I've been moved by, that I love, that I've re-read again and again.

The majority of them have a secondary character--often the main character's friend or family member-- that passes away. Frequently, the event occurs before the novel even starts, or near the beginning of a book. A book that begins with death, with grief--it grabs the reader's attention, that's for sure.

And I have to wonder what that means, why it's so common, and what effect it has on us as readers.

I don't mean this post to be a criticism because like I said, some of the best books I've ever read have this element in common. As a matter of fact, I'm starting to wonder if having someone close to the main character pass away is an near-requirement for serious contemporary literature. It's often been said that there aren't any new stories, just new ways of telling them. Even though many of my favorite books include death as a major plot point, it doesn't necessarily mean that it's overdone--it's just seems to reoccur. Looking for Alaska features a protagonist dealing with the death of a friend, Wintergirls begins with protagonist dealing with the death of a friend, The Sky is Everywhere starts with the protagonist dealing with the death of a sibling, Before I Fall deals with the protagonist herself dying, and If I Stay features a protagonist dealing with the death of her family. Books like Cracked Up to Be even venture into the protagonist's feelings of guilt with their role in death.

And I'd strongly recommend each and everyone one of the books mentioned above. They're incredibly moving, poignant, touching, and well-written. A lot of them have death not just on the sidelines, but at the forefront of their premise.

And I have to wonder--does death make a book?

I don't mean to be flippant, but death is a reality, even in a teenager's life. Even the high proportion of girls that perish suddenly and unexpectedly in YA literature isn't unwarranted--it does happen, so I don't think the realism of these novels comes into question. It can even be argued that these books have an added realism: that the author's choice to highlight the grief of the main character in the face of tragedy--and often the character's healing and reaction to this sudden death--is a reflection on life and also a very important theme.

The common modes of death in these books--car crashes and suicide--also correspond with reality. And for the most part, each protagonist in the books mentioned above deals with death differently. Ultimately, the books mostly end with a positive note, a hopeful vibe even when the protagonists' whole life has been torn apart.

And I have to say this: I find these books incredibly moving. They're tearjerking and they hit home and they have depth--I can't stop thinking about them afterwards. I'm not trying to say that death is the reason that these novels have quality--exemplary writing, characterization, and execution play a large part--but does it add an extra resonance to the story? Does it strike a reaction that no other event in a book can?

I say yes. Diverging from the contemporary boundaries, I don't think I've ever been as torn apart as when *SPOILERS* Sirius Black in Harry Potter and The Order of the Phoenix died, or when Rudy and Hans Hubermann from The Book Thief died *END SPOILERS*. But death in the sci-fi/fantasy/historical genres seems--in general-- to be more out of the way. There are casualties that affect the protagonist along the way, but they don't completely shatter their world and remain the sole focus of a book as they often do in contemporary.

Of course, there are beautiful contemporary books out there that don't deal with death as a major event--Melina Marchetta's books, in particular, and John Green's, save for Looking for Alaska--but an overwhelming majority (especially of my favorites) do. It seems reasonable, too--to get the plot moving forward in a contemporary novel--that a drastic event needs to happen. More often than not, it's death. How many life-altering events does a real teenager face? Family and relationship issues, health issues, school issues, and socioeconomic issues are some problems that first come to mind. It's really a combination of several different factors that should drive a protagonist to rock-bottom, as is necessary in a novel.

But is the reliance on death as a plot device a bad thing? Or a good thing? Or does it even matter? Is it even a reliance, or is it a theme that's necessary in most books?

You tell me. I'd love to hear your thoughts on the matter.

The ominous rise of 2nd person

2010-06-13T14:12:00.001-07:00

It's everywhere. Maybe YOU've seen it?

I sure have.

2nd person makes a devious appearance in the first chapter of Living Dead Girl; You by Charles Benoit, the upcoming sure-to-be-a-hit novel is narrated entirely in 2nd person; Printz-winning How I Live Now is stock-full of those buggers; and the last book I finished--Stolen--had a unique combination of 1st and 2nd person.

YOU is everywhere.*

This sudden--at least from my viewpoint--plague of You is a bit unsettling. Weird. Strange. A little scary, even. Maybe YOU've always been aware of it, but I haven't. And to me--as it seems that I come into more contact with the 2nd person as I pour over recently released books and unpublished snippets of writing--it's growing. Surging, even.

It's been hammered into my head over and over by numerous English teachers that no one but fools asking to be mocked and deprived of any literary standing use 2nd person; that if they do it's only a few sentences; that it jolts/jars/irritates/angers the reader and that 3rd person limited and first person are much better narrative forms. Also, that I'd never see 2nd person--maybe once if I was unlucky. Or twice.

I've seen it alright. And now, I can't avoid it.

I pretty much believed my teachers up until now. Second person = bad or fleeting. Whenever we went over POV, there would be lengthy definitions of the different variations of 1st and 3rd. 2nd would sometimes be mentioned in a vague afterthought--it's just basically "You" they'd say, but don't worry, it won't turn up. **

YA has become a place of unsettling tense/POV combinations that would make many readers of adult fiction cringe at the impropriety, the uppityness, the departure from established literary standards . It's 2010, the era of YA (it's long tendrils have reached and entrapped many adult readers by now) and I still see writers and readers arguing that first person present, permeating many of the books I read today is terrible, unusable, and mark of the incompetence of an author. Which is silly. I kind of want to shove The Hunger Games and Cracked Up to Be and half the YA section at them.

They say: first person MUST ALWAYS be past. Third person limited (past) is the best POV. They upturn their noses at the mention of awkward & self-conscious 3rd person present (an assessment I for the most part agree with***). I fear what they'll say about 2nd person. They'd probably scream or have a cow if they knew what I've been reading lately.

But maybe it's not that bad. I, for the most part, write this blog in 2nd person. (IT HAS INFILTRATED EVEN HERE! RUN! EVACUATE!). I write poetry in 2nd person.(whoah, how'd that happen? I really don't know). I kinda like 2nd person, and I'm starting to realize that just right now.

The 2nd person I've read--stubborn as I am--has been pretty darn good. Amazing, even. It's got this very haunting quality to it, as the main character or author speaks directly to you. The most striking part of Just in Case (by Meg Rosoff, the same author as How I Live Now) is a harrowing vignette of a plane crash, narrated in 2nd person. A character who jumps out of the page to the audience and says knowingly, "My friend always pretends like she's dumber than she really is. Don't you just hate when someone does that?" can be refreshing, voice-filled. Books narrated entirely in 2nd person can be done, and done well.

So no having cows needed. None. No conniptions either.

Maybe from now on I can have my 2nd person and enjoy it and not feel misgivings at the mention of it.

And I'm thinking--this is just my speculation--we'll be seeing more of 2nd person soon. At least on the YA side of things--whether it be short sections in the middle of a text or the POV of choice of the author.

So this is where you tell me what you think of 2nd person. Have you noticed more of it lately or is it just me? Any really good books in 2nd person?

* I'll ignore the terrible grammar of that sentence. *twitches*
**Here's something I've learned: Don't trust your English teachers solely because they're adults with a red pen.
*** 3rd person present does, for the most part, read awkwardly to me. Atwood has got it down in The Blind Assassin, though and I'm sure lots of others do too.

how to make page buttons

2010-06-11T14:49:00.000-07:00

Recently, I got an email from someone who asked me how I made my page buttons.

And I figured I'd just do a post, as I'm sure other people would like to know how too. I'm not even very tech-y (I figured this out by trial & error), and I'm by no means an authoritative source on how to do this. But I'll explain how I did mine. Since I've never done a post like this, I'll supplement it with lots of pictures. LOTS. So that even a sparkly vampire could do this.

STEP 1:

Make your pages.

Go to posting--> Edit Pages --> New Page

create the content you want and click "PUBLISH PAGE"

Make sure to select "No gadget" out of the options. Click SAVE AND PUBLISH and then VIEW PAGE.

Highlight and copy the page url. (You're going to need this)--paste it somewhere safe so you can keep it.

STEP 2:

Make or find page buttons and save them to your computer.

I have photoshop, but there are photo editing sites all over the web that'll allow you to do something simple like make a colored rectangle/circle/etc and put font on it.

Anyhow, something like this will do just fine:

I made four since I want four pages: Home, About, Index, Blog Roll

STEP 3:
Upload your page buttons to an online image host.

I recommend photobucket.

Once your page button is done uploading, right click on it and select "Copy Image Location"

For my URL, I got:

http://i904.photobucket.com/albums/ac243/chocowrites/th_home-2.jpg?t=1276295200

STEP 3:

Input your URLS into this code:

STEP 4:

Add the page buttons to your blog.

Go to Design --> Page Elements --> Add a Gadget --> and Select HTML/ JAVASCRIPT

Paste the code(s) (for each button) into the HTML/JAVASCRIPT and click SAVE.

If you want you buttons in the center, directly under the header, move the HTML/JAVASCRIPT BAR. Just click and drag to above the section that says "Blog Posts".

STEP 5:

Feel oddly gleeful that you now have page buttons on your blog XD

I hope this helped!

Any questions?

covers that make me drool + a few books I'm looking forward to

2010-06-10T16:03:00.001-07:00

I just wanted to post some covers that--when I saw them--made me stop in my tracks, say "WHOA!", and wonder if I could seize the dust jacket and blow it up into a ginormous poster. Also, I have this urge to wallpaper my room with them.

But I can't, so I'll wallpaper this blog with them. Next best thing!

The blue of the sky is so gorgeous as is the sea and the sand and the melding of the colors.

Despite the fact that I didn't much like Hollow as a book, I can't deny the cover is gorgeous. It's sort of creepy since the model is staring right AT YOU but it's just so striking.

I love the color of the sky, and for some reason (as you may have noticed in Captivating Thursdays--which I'm not *officially* compiling this particular week, but I suppose this counts because the covers are so prettiful) I love photos where the person's back/side is to the viewer. When the positioning is like that, it could be almost anyone who's walking down that street. Also I heart the fonts so much.

I really didn't like Fallen. However, there is no denying that the covers for this series are absolutely gorgeous. I think I actually like the Torment's cover better--the soft gray and the spindly trees--but that may just be because I've seen Fallen's cover too many times.

THE LUCK OF JANDY NELSON:

She has two beautiful covers for one book. By the way, the Sky is Everywhere is fantastic so get thee to a bookstore if you haven't read it.

Hardcover:

The asymmetrical, patchy heart and the different size lowercase letters are so very arresting and lovely.

Paperback (or maybe this is the UK cover?):

I really can't decide if I like the hardcover or paperback better. The font and the color on the paperback are adorable, though.

I saved my favorite for last. I can NOT believe how gorgeous this is, I really can't. I'm struck by the trees* (?) which have me going "ahhh"; the way the girl is running so gracefully into the hint of the sky; the large bed of dark green grass; the contrast of her hair against the green. It just comes together so beautifully. Also, the angles of the tree (?) lines are gorgeous, it really draws my eye in. I'm in love with this cover.

Since 2010 is halfway over (whoa, how'd that happen?) I thought I'd put a short list of books that I'm dying to read and that I want NAO. Like, I'd do unspeakable things to get my hands on them.

Upcoming in 2010:

1. You by Charles Benoit
2. Mockingjay by Suzanne Collins (this was pretty much a given, haha)
3. Her and Me and You by Lauren Strasnick
4. The Duff by Kody Keplinger

2011:

1. Piper's Son by Melina Marchetta
You Australian peeps who've already got to read it are lucky. I really need to do some wrangling by way of The Book Depository** and get it anyways.

2. BRIDGE OF CLAY by Markus Zusak

WHERE ART THOU?! The release day got pushed back multiple times. It should have been in late 2009, then late 2010, and now it's early 2011. *grumbles* I would seriously give up chocolate for an extended period of time*** if I could just read it now. Tehe.

*Are those really trees? They seem too skinny trunk-wise, but that's my best guess.

**I love that site.

***I am completely serious. For realz. Chocolate deprivation is worth it for Zusak's newest work of genius.

Serial Tour: 13 to Life Blog Tour with Shannon Delany!

2010-06-07T17:03:00.000-07:00

Welcome to Shannon Delany's Start Your Day with Serial Tour! Shannon's debut novel (and first in her YA paranormal series) 13 to Life started as a winning cell phone novel written in serial segments. During the tour you can read bits of the book in order. Miss a day? Hop to Shannon's blog and check the link to the blog tour calendar in her sidebar.

There will also be a contest that will close at the end of the tour. Winners get a bunch of stuff.

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I'm very happy to have gotten the chance to interview Shannon Delany:

Can you sum up 13 to Life in one sentence?

It's a tale of teenage love, loss and--oh, yeah--werewolves.

What initially sparked your idea for 13 to Life?

It was a strange combination of things. The phrase which became the title was rolling around in my head and on a trip to Wisconsin I noticed a definite lack of werewolf novels (of course, that was late 2008).

If you were stranded on a deserted island, what single book would you choose to have with you and why?

My trusty Barnhardt's Dictionary of Etymology. I love language and each word in that book comes with its own origin story. It's fascinating!

What do you hope readers will take away from reading 13 to Life?

Different readers will take away different things depending on how deeply they read. Some will just enjoy the book for its action and romance (I'm being told the relationships in the book feel much more real and authentic than many others in YA currently) and some will catch the foreshadowing, the red herrings and be able to make guesses at the next books in the series.

Can you tell us a little bit about what you have in the works at the moment?

I just handed in my copyedits for the second book in the series and the third's due in August. Beyond that I'm working on some things that explore more of my love of history and mythology. Still mainly YA, though.

Is there anything you would like to add for readers?

Thanks for following along on the Serial Tour and I hope you all give 13 to Life a try (and, of course, I hope you love reading it even half as much as I enjoyed writing it)!

Choco: Thank you for the wonderful interview :)

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13 to Life: Chapter 3, part F (used with the author’s permission)

(For information on the previous section, visit Escape Between the Pages!

I said, “Cool” and a moment later I was free of the food sauna and headed to my table, forgetting Pietr in my need to discuss the Derek situation with my girlfriends.

I smacked my tray down, wiggling in between Amy and Sarah on the table's Formica bench. Sarah set down her copy of Sense and Sensibility and smiled supportively in my direction.

Stabbing my milk with a straw, I introduced my plight. "I just don't get it. Derek actually spoke to me today." I jabbed a cucumber slice with my fork and wondered which of us was older.

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Shannon's hosting several contests during the Start Your Day with Serial Tour. The big contest will award one lucky winner with a royal amber pendant, pietersite jeweled bookmark, stuffed wolf, 13 to Life mousepad, pen, tote, signed poster, personalized copy of 13 to Life and both of the 13 to Life pins. All you need to do is comment at 13 of the blogs hosting Shannon during her 30 day tour. Everyone who does so will be entered into a random drawing. Winner may be international.

in which i talk about

2010-06-06T14:03:00.001-07:00

I spontaneously started a poetry journal a few months ago. It's where I keep poems that sing to my soul. This way, I'll never lose track of them-- they're always less than a moment away. By dint of this little journal, I'm always near beautiful words. Words designed to spark emotion: happiness, anger, longing, fulfillment. Within a few hundred unassuming pages, there are enough thoughts and meaning and hope to fill the world.

a little peak:

The front cover. I should of gotten some beautiful
hardcover journal that would last a long while
through wear and tear, but this one is cute, at least :)

a view of the pages

two poems side by side

One of my favorite poems :)

close-up view

There's something about this journal that makes me happy.

Ever since I discovered that I ~~could stand~~, ~~liked~~, ~~loved~~, can't live without poetry, I've been diving headfirst into a world I didn't even know existed six months ago. Miraculously, I haven't drowned yet. I'm swimming along, immersing myself on the words penned by the likes of Plath and e.e. cummings and Ginsberg.

Even though I'm so new to reading poetry, I'm in love. How can I not be? When there is such complete soul in just a few lines. When my heart skips a beat when I find a poem that is great. When I feel what the poet feels and it's like literary giants are speaking to me or to themselves or to everyone about what they've experienced.

It's so beautiful. It's so beautiful that I feel like I can't even understand how much beauty is out there waiting for me. That I won't ever be able to read it all in one lifetime or several lifetimes.

I'm wishing now though--after paying a visit to my local bookstore that only stocks around ten different poets on two, tiny little shelves; after perusing a poetry forum in which the number one topic was "is poetry becoming extinct?"; after realizing I didn't know a single person in real life that reads poetry for fun--that there was more I could do. Go around and knock on people's doors; leave my favorite poems everywhere for people to find; sit down next to a stranger and ask, "have you ever read a poem that sang to your soul? Because I have."

I want to tell the whole world to go out and read poetry. I want to show you that poetry is something wonderful. Because now that I've realized it I want you to realize it too. I don't want to hog all the beautiful words and poems and sayings, I want you to read them too.

But wait, you think: I hate/dislike/don't understand/rather not/ nothankyou/not now please/ poetry is just not for me.

Let me tell you something: I've been there before, too. I used to avoid poetry, complain about analyzing it, reading it, seeing it. I was exposed to nothing but musty old poems that spoke confusingly of O' and thou and art. Then I read a book of poetry by Atwood and it changed--

everything.

Poetry can't be contained or classified properly: there's too many variations, forms. I found that I liked contemporary, lyrical poetry the best, but could do well without most written before the 1800s. Poetry is basically emotion in words. And there is no way that you haven't felt emotion, that a poet hasn't put that exact feeling down somewhere for you to read. Poetry tells you that you are not alone. That we aren't.

So I guarantee you: there's a poem out there, especially written for you. About you, even.

You just have to go looking for it. We all do.

***

And I just want to post a poem that I particularly love. I think this is the one that made me realize I could love poetry.

Pre-Amphibian by Margaret Atwood

Again so I subside
nudged by the softening
driftwood of your body
tangle on you like a water-
weed caught
on a submerged treelimb

with sleep like a swamp
growing, closing around me
sending its tendrils through the brown
sediments of darkness
where we transmuted are
part of this warm rotting
of vegetable flesh
this quiet spawning of roots

released
from the lucidities of day
when you are something I can
trace a line around, with eyes
cut shapes
from air, the element
where we
must calculate according to
solidities

but here I blur
into you our breathing sinking
to green millenniums
and sluggish in our blood
all ancestors
are warm fish moving

The earth
shifts, bringing
the moment before focus, when
these tides recede; and we
see each other through the
hardening scales of waking

stranded, astounded
in a drying world
we flounder, the air
ungainly in our new lungs
with sunlight steaming merciless on the shores of morning

***

And I invite you to do the same thing in the comments. Post poems, name poets you love, talk about poetry, whether you've only read one poem in your life willingly or if you have a bookshelf full of poetry.

And maybe, just maybe, you can fit a poem or two or a hundred more into your life.

GIVEAWAY: amy & roger's epic detour + more

2010-06-04T20:14:00.000-07:00

So you remember the book I just reviewed? Amy & Roger's Epic Detour (of fabulousosity?). YOU KNOW YOU WANT THIS BOOK. (you do.)

I'm holding a giveway so here's your chance! And the lucky winner also gets a very shiny digital photo frame keychain that's mind-boggingly cool.

Also, check out the book website for more info.

SUMMARY:

Amy Curry thinks her life sucks. Her mom decides to move from California to Connecticut to start anew--just in time for Amy's senior year. Her dad recently died in a car accident. So Amy embarks on a road trip to escape from it all, driving cross-country from the home she's always known toward her new life. Joining Amy on the road trip is Roger, the son of Amy's mother's old friend. Amy hasn't seen him in years, and she is less than thrilled to be driving across the country with a guy she barely knows. So she's surprised to find that she is developing a crush on him. At the same time, she's coming to terms with her father's death and how to put her own life back together after the accident. Told in traditional narrative as well as scraps from the road--diner napkins, motel receipts, postcards--this is the story of one girl's journey to find herself.

+

GIVEAWAY info:

1. You must have a mailing address in the U.S.
2. Ends on June 19th

enter here!

review: amy & roger's epic detour by morgan matson

2010-06-04T19:31:00.001-07:00

Summary:

Amy Curry thinks her life sucks. Her mom decides to move from California to Connecticut to start anew--just in time for Amy's senior year. Her dad recently died in a car accident. So Amy embarks on a road trip to escape from it all, driving cross-country from the home she's always known toward her new life. Joining Amy on the road trip is Roger, the son of Amy's mother's old friend. Amy hasn't seen him in years, and she is less than thrilled to be driving across the country with a guy she barely knows. So she's surprised to find that she is developing a crush on him. At the same time, she's coming to terms with her father's death and how to put her own life back together after the accident. Told in traditional narrative as well as scraps from the road--diner napkins, motel receipts, postcards--this is the story of one girl's journey to find herself.

(product description courtesy of Amazon)

My Opinion:

Amy & Roger's Epic Detour is a quietly beautiful book. Set during a five-day road trip across America, the trees of Yosemite, the deserts of Nevada, and the derbys of Kentucky all manage to make an appearance in the space of 300 well-written pages. So does a whole lot of great dialogue and character development. Amy & Roger's Epic Detour contains a road trip that takes you on a ride--both emotionally and literally--as first love blooms and gas bills pile up.

The star of school musicals, Amy Curry is devastated on a fateful spring afternoon when her father dies. This novel begins with summer vacation three months later, but there's still a whole lot of grief and guilt stemming from his passing away. What's more, Amy's literary-inclined mother and stoner twin brother have left her alone in L.A. for a month. When it comes to driving cross-country to get to her new home in Connecticut, Amy is somewhat reluctant to embark on a trip. Especially since it means spending hours in car, when her father died in a car crash. Add in Roger, a childhood friend who she barely remembers to the mix, and a simple road trip turns into a complicated mess of suppressed feelings and a whole lot of remembering.

In the first few chapters, I wasn't that big of a fan of Amy. She seemed a bit withdrawn, but as the story progresses more facets of her personality are revealed. Roger's a great complement to her, and the relationship that develops between the two is very sweet. At first, the novel follows a seemingly set routine: Roger comes up with playlists and drives, Amy purchases the snacks and navigates, and the traveling duo depart from their fixed (but oh-so-boring) route determined by Amy's mother. Instead of bee-lining straight to Connecticut, they make stops at Yosemite, where memories of Amy's father threaten to throw her once more into grief, drive across the loneliest road in America, mountains spanning ahead, and traverse across Kansas (proud home to crumbly burgers). Some states are given much more of a spotlight, but I'm amazed how much I actually learned from this novel: State mottos. Highways to avoid. Good places to eat. Bands to listen to. Also, the fact that the greasy perfection of In-N-Out* made an appearance within the first few chapters garners my unquestioning approval. As do the receipts, emails, playlists**, and pictures of destinations integrated seamlessly into the narrative.

After reading Amy & Roger's Epic Detour, I was reminded of why I love road trip novels so much. It's the juxtaposition of an actual journey and the journey that the characters make as they grow and change that I find particularly worthy of praise. Amy's transformation from a reserved girl drowning in guilt and grief to one who comes out of her shell and finds happiness in life is quite touching. Roger is also getting over something--a broken heart, courtesy of a flaky girlfriend--and the symmetry of the two characters' development and thus their relationship was the easily the best part of the book.

A tale of burgers, Elvis, traveling, and heartbreak, Amy and Roger's Epic Detour is a summer read you don't want to miss. It just gets better and better as you read on, and by the end, I was quite in love with it. At first glance, this book doesn't seem explosively brilliant and it doesn't punch you in the gut or anything. But it does hold a quiet sort of beauty within it's pages--a certain magic in between the words as the characters grow. That's what truly sets this novel apart and why I had such a great time reading it.

My Rating: I give it an 8.5/10. Lovely, feel-good book. I get a rush of happy feelings even thinking about it :)

*Oh, you poor people who have never heard of In-N-Out. You're living an unfulfilled life. I'd ship you a burger but it'd prolly get gross on the way there. Le sigh.

**Some of my fave bands were on there. And I found some lovely bands as well from it :)

FTC: I received this book for review from a publicist. Thank you :)

OH AND BONUS: I'll be posting about a giveaway for this book soon so look out for that!

little tiger press young writer and illustrators awards + come ask me questions on formspring

2010-06-03T19:57:00.000-07:00

So I recently got a really cool email about a national (United Kingdom) competition for young writers hosted by Little Tiger Press. I don't know if I've said this on in which a girl reads before, but I'm really passionate about literacy, and especially about support and contests for budding writers.

The awards are part of a "national campaign to promote literacy and creative thinking amongst kids."

(courtesy of their website:)

The Little Tiger Press Young Writer and Illustrator Awards 2010, sponsored by PriceMinister, are designed to encourage reading and creativity in children from an early age. This national competition aims to promote a life-long love of reading, writing and illustrating.
We’re looking for budding writers and illustrators, aged between 5 and 11, to take part in the very first Little Tiger Press Young Writer & Illustrator Awards.
Up to £800 in PriceMinister vouchers for the winning school or organisation.
Up to £75 in PriceMinister vouchers for the individual winning entries.
A chance for pupils to meet the authors and illustrators at a special prize-giving and to join them in a free workshop.
Plus the winners of each award will have their work professionally designed and framed.

MAKE SURE TO CHECK OUT THEIR WEBSITE: http://www.childrens-books-award.co.uk/

I hope you know of someone that will be able to participate :)

I set up a formspring! Yeah, that's right. I couldn't resist any longer.
CLICKY if you want to ask me questions. About blogging, books, reading, writing, etc.

OR ANYTHING THAT STRIKES YOUR FANCY.

Really.

Anonymously, even. *gasp*

Get your creative hat on :)

I'm hoping it'll allow for more direct communication (& also a way to procrastinate). Since I know it takes me a while to work up the guts to ask somebody a question over the interwebs. So now, no guts needed! And this formspring thing will be especially nice since I'm awful with checking my email, tehe.