Scarlet and The Diviners

Over Spring Break I went on a whirlwind of reading, if reading two books in a week can be considered a whirlwind. According to my inner voice, it isn't, but if you look at my reading history for the past few months, it certainly looks like it.

On to the good stuff. As you can tell from the title (which kinda sounds like an awesome band name), I read Scarlet by Marissa Meyer (second installment of The Lunar Chronicles) and The Diviners by Libba Bray. Both were absolutely fantastic and totally worth the time I spent not writing my thesis. (Don't tell my mentor.)

courtesy Goodreads.com

Scarlet picks up where Cinder left off, with Cinder in custody of the Eastern Commonwealth and about to be handed over to the Lunars and the evil Queen Levana. Dum, dum, dum. Scarlet follows two principle main characters (Linh Cinder and Scarlet Benoit), and as the title implies, the fairytale of Little Red Riding Hood is given a much-needed update. I simply adore the way the two narratives are woven together and ultimately united.

Plus, Wolf gives me goosebumps. In a good way. *shivers* I LOVE this twist to the original. However, no spoilers. Pinky promise.

By the end of the novel, Cinder and Scarlet are poised to begin the next chapter in their altered lives, and I absolutely can't wait to see what Meyer has in store for us in the next two books, titled Cress and Winter respectively. Can't. Wait.

courtesy Goodreads.com

Moving on to The Diviners and switching gears from moon magic and fairytales to magic of a more sinister and mysterious nature. Evie O'Neill has a gift, but so far it has been a curse to her social life. That is until she goes too far at a party, and is "banished" to New York City to stay with her Uncle Will, proprietor of "The Museum of the Creepy Crawlies," more professionally known as The Museum of American Folklore, Superstition, and the Occult. Needless to say, Evie is thrilled and determined to make the most of her time in the Big Apple.

I am a huge fan of Bray's other series, the Gemma Doyle trilogy, which incorporated a historical time period with elements of the mystical and occult. Therefore I was fairly confident of liking this newest endeavor. I was not disappointed.

Much like Bray did with Gemma, she created a character in Evie who has flaws, but who also has redeeming qualities, making us really believe in the story and her development. The exposition is also phenomenal. I read descriptions of New York and the wind over and over, just because I enjoyed the way each sentence created an atmosphere. I could feel the essence of the book and it sucked me into its embrace, tantalizing my senses with images of dark alleyways behind speakeasies, women in flapper dresses, and  an overwhelming sensation of Something-is-going-to-happen-and-it-won't-be-good.

The mystery is suspenseful, but not taxingly so. The characters are vibrant and I secretly think they are real.

And there you have it folks. Hopefully I'll post more reviews soon or at least something written or otherwise. I'm feeling the ticking of the clock most potently lately, with my thesis deadline looming closer and graduation in May. It's maddening in a way. This is me imagining a world without my thesis.

I do too, Liz. I do too. 

Actually, just about any of the gifs on #seniorthesisproblems Tumblr are applicable to my state of mind. Y'all have no idea how much joy I got from reveling in these gifs today. So much bitter joy. *chucklesob*

I hope everything has just been dandy here in Blogland. Feel free to update me on what awesome things I've missed since I've been terribly absent. Nothing like feeling worse to make one feel better, as I always say.

Until next time...

The Last Monday

This is it, folks. The last full week of classes for this semester.

That's really all I have to say, which is quite unlike me. However, considering most of my time is taken up with writing papers (I'm sick of it by the way), it's not that unusual I suppose.

Words, words, words. I love them and yet at this moment I sort of despise them. Although I'm looking forward to next week when things will be a lot slower on the class and work front.

Summer. That is one word that I can't help but cherish.

Well, in order to make this post worth reading, I've embedded a book trailer for The Girl in the Steel Corset by Kady Cross, which I really want to read when I get time. Soon.

It appears to be steampunk with an interesting paranormal twist, but I can't be sure. I haven't even picked up a copy yet, but thank the Internet for YouTube, right? I've provided y'all with the Goodreads link so check it out if you get a chance. And if you've already read it, would you kindly let me know how it is?



Until next time...

Idea for the Break

This post is brought to you by a study break. Study breaks. The only things keeping college students sane during finals week. Take yours today!

Hey folks! So, I've been doing a lot of thinking about what I'm going to do over my break because it's one of the rewards I give myself for actually doing work. I know for a true-blue fact that I'm going to be doing a MAJOR amount of catch-up reading that I've missed since the semester took over my life, but it seems to me like I should do something to celebrate each book that I knock off the list.

But what?

There are so many options. I could go the traditional route of writing a book review for each one. Those usually turn out alright.

Or...I don't know. This next option may be a little too "out there" for even me. Heck, I'll let y'all decide! I hate decisions anyway.

What if I did vlogs once every few days to "review" the books that I've read?

Would any of you watch them? Would I want to do them? Am I making any sense?

Technically, I'm qualified to make videos of myself. I took a class on it and everything. If y'all are real stalkers, you've probably already found the videos of me on YouTube talking about education. But I'm not encouraging anyone to watch those.

As it is, this idea is still in the "what if I did make book vlogs" stage. Any feedback from y'all will be taken thoroughly into consideration, even if you think I should stick to writing. (There's a rather large part of me that thinks that as well; probably the part writing this parenthetical statement.)

Until next time...

Inheritance At Last

That's right. It's that time of the century again. Another Paolini titan is about to descend upon us mere mortals. In less than 12 hours, I believe. No, I'm not going to the midnight release. I grew out of those without even having to go to any of them. I love them, but nerds up past their bedtimes are almost too much for me to take. When you throw in the fact that they'll probably be adults (since Inheritance took eons to arrive), it would just be one of those sad moments that reminds me that I'm not a kid anymore.


For some reason, I find this reading to be slightly depressing. I don't know if it's the fact that I never found Paolini to be a very charismatic speaker or that time has dulled my appreciation for Eragon's plight in Alagaesia, but this excerpt didn't get my nerd juices flowing like I thought it would.


Oh well. I'm still going to go buy a copy, maybe not tomorrow since I don't get paid until Friday, and I'm going to read it. I'm just hoping that it doesn't disappoint me. I've been waiting so long for this last book that I'd pretty much stopped caring. That sounds horrible, but it's also true. I'm sure I'm not the only one who's thinks this is a bitter-sweet release. Let's just all pray that my doubts are wrong and that my "Bah humbug" attitude gets a sharp check by the actual book. I really want to be proven wrong in this case.

Friday Fives: A Whole New World(s)

Hello everyone! It's Friday yet again, which you may or may not already know, but if not, that's okay. Paper Hangover has provided the prompt, and as you can see, it's a good one. I only know the days of the week because my Google calender alerts me. Isn't that nice?

Before I digress too far down that road of whether or not Google calender alerts are the best things in the entire world, let's go to a few different worlds.

This is my Pottermore profile. Nice, huh? Yeah, it's swell. 

1. The wizarding world of Harry Potter. Yes. That's right. Another Friday Five list with The Boy Who Lived. You really shouldn't be so surprised. If I could just go to Hogwarts and be sorted into a House (Gryffindor!), my life would truly be complete. Seriously. I'd die happy. As it is, I have to settle for Pottermore, and even though it's pretty nifty and I'm in Gryffindor, the real thing would be so much better, as is always the case.

2. Just in case that genie in the lamp doesn't wanna take me to Hogwarts, my second choice would be the Star Wars universe. Why? Two reasons: 1) Space travel with handsome rogues and alien worlds, and 2) Lightsabers. Need I say more? Of course, being in that universe is contingent upon me being a Jedi, and I would fully plan on being the first Ewok Jedi ever. Just imagine the possibilities. I'd be super adorable and deadly. Best of all worlds right there.

3. On the flip side of the coin, if Jedi mindtricks and lightsaber battles were not an option either, I'd have to choose Middle Earth. It's a bit less technological, and I'd probably miss my computer and robot side-kicks, but the trade-off would be worth it, I believe. Although, deciding what to be in Middle Earth is a bit more problematic. I'd like to say I'd want to be an Elf, but they don't seem to have a lot of fun. So, I think being a Hobbit would be cool. Yet with that choice comes the fact that I'd be the shortest humanoid, and if I get to choose, I'd like to be tall. I think I'll have to go with Rohan. They have horses.

4. Next on the list of fantasy lands is Tortall. I haven't talked much about Tamora Pierce on this blog, and I don't know why because I love her books, but Tortall is a cool place. It's got magic, knights, rogues, villains, wars, mythological creatures--basically, the whole kit-and-kaboodle.

5. Last but not least, Narnia! There is just something about talking animals that makes me think that is a place I'd fit in. I'd have to get rid of all the pesky white witches and evil uncles, but once that was done with, I'm sure Narnia would be a nice home for me. Besides, I've always wanted to know why a dog chases its tail. Living in Narnia might finally answer that question.

Alright folks, thanks for hanging in there if you indeed did! I didn't mean to ramble so much, but I'm bored, so that's what happens. Happy Halloween weekend!

It's An Alien World After All

Okay, so this post doesn't really have anything to do with that picture. I just thought it was funny. He's so happy about chopping folks into tiny bits...*sigh*

On to better thoughts. Just recently, like about ten minutes ago, I was being a good college student and reading an essay for my literary theory class. It was okay. I don't have anything against it as a piece of literature.

Basically, the whole essay was about whether or not literature could be ethical and thus make its readers more ethical. I don't know why that matters, but obviously it must to the author. (Who also happens to be my teacher. What a strange coinkydink, right? Yeah...)

To make a long essay short, I came away with one thing, and it was a quote. Perhaps I should have come away with more, but hey, this is literary theory I'm talking about, not Algebra. There is no clear answer.

"Reading is just that: a way of giving way not only to a host of alien words, images, ideas, but also to the very alien principle which utters them and shelters them."

I grant that it doesn't make much sense out of context of the essay, but if you'd read it, you'd also know that the theorist Georges Poulet was being referenced for his theory (so many theories!) that by reading, one puts oneself into the hands of the author and allows the book to invade one's mind and become "the subject of thoughts other than my own."

Let's pause and think about this for a minute, and I'm going to dumb this down to my own level, possibly losing some of the meaning behind what Poulet said, but if it's lost, I say I didn't need it in the first place. He should learn to theorize more clearly.

As readers (and writers which I know a lot of you are) we have the particular pleasure of delving into a work of literature and in doing so, we open ourselves up to new ideas, new experiences, and many times those things are completely foreign to us. In order to get the full effect of some piece of literature, you have to be willing to immerse yourself completely, losing your own pre-conceived ideas about life or what-have-you, and thus permitting the "alien" to be sheltered inside your own mind.

Now, this may sound kinda creepy. I admit that. However, once you think about it, it makes sense. As writers, we want to have a lasting effect on our audience. We want to convey at least some portion of what we mean to them, and it is our ultimate hope that they experience things the way you actually intended them to be read.

I know how frustrating it is to write something, to know exactly what you mean, and then have someone come along and blindly read a piece and pronounce it dull, boring, unreadable, horrible, etc. It's heartbreaking. If only they could SEE things the way you do, they would understand!

That is what Poulet (and that quote waaaaay up there) meant. As readers, we must be conscious of how we read, because if we only read with a sliver of our attention, we're doing the work and the author a disservice. Also, we're not reading to our fullest potential.

Another way to interpret Poulet's little idea, is that all literature is attempting to be a form of mind control. And that idea just used up my allotment of Crazy Speak for the day.

I don't know if any of what I just wrote made any sense, but if it helps, I typed the entire thing while speaking what I typed aloud in a British accent. So, if you weren't already reading what I've written in a British accent, well, just think of this last paragraph as me apologizing for not telling you sooner that that was what I was doing. Oh well. Cheerio!

Calm down; I can't read what you're saying over your adjectives.

I shouldn't have to say it, but somehow I feel the need to state that when I read a book, I want the experience to be a good one. Now, I often find myself in the situation that requires me to read things that aren't particularly up to my standards. That's okay. The authors are in 10th grade and haven't quite mastered the ability of cohesive writing yet.

I can't even say that I've mastered that art yet. Hey, I'm honest. It's in my DNA. As I was saying, when I pick up a book or someone says, "Hey, you like books, read this one. You'll like it. People do stuff and it makes you laugh," I expect that book to at least entertain me long enough for me to finish it. Goodness knows I've had to struggle through some books, but I'm not here to discuss them.

I'm here to discuss some authors' use of language, and to be even more concise, their use of diction. I can hear your brains whirling trying to recall the exact definition that your 11th grade English teacher drilled into your adolescent brain all those years ago (or not depending on your age.)

Diction = word choice. Some people, like myself, use a fairly average vocabulary in their day to day lives with bursts of dollar words to keep other people on their toes. I've been told too many times in my short life that I need to speak in "simpler" terms because the people in my life can't understand me. And that's okay. I understand where they are coming from, and I've simplified for their benefit with only a few slip-ups now and then after reading an Austen novel.

But, when I'm reading a book, I follow a certain set of expectations. I like it to be well-written (duh), to use terms most people will understand, and to keep me entertained. It's not a list that should scare any authors.

I do not like to read novels that feel like a giant info-dump right into my brain, or that require me to slow down my reading pace in order to understand what's happening. I look on books like those as tragedies. Sadly, there have been a number of tragedies in recent days.

The tragic tome that sparked this little reflection was an excerpt from a book (I won't name it or the author) and the overwhelming use of adjectives and adverbs. It really threw me off when I first started reading it and that is something that isn't easily done. I've been reading on the college level since I was in grade school. At first, I merely tried to adjust my mind to the fact that I was getting deluged with tons of sensory details. Way too many. Then I realized that it wasn't just the diction and syntax that was off, it was the style as well.

I'm not normally one for nitpicky things when it comes to an author's delivery or writing style, but as I was reading, I couldn't help but be slightly nauseated by the blatant "telling" that the author was doing in the story. Sure, it's in first person, but when the reader is told every few paragraphs that the MC went through something big and that was why he or she was the way he or she was, it makes the entire plot tedious.

So very tedious. Honestly, I couldn't even get through the second chapter. There was so much more that I could have commented on, but...I don't have the energy. I just want to know this:

How the hell did that person get that book published in the first place?



Addendum:
I totally went and found out the answer to my own question before posting this blog entry. Self-publishing. *Le Sigh* For the love of all things written, people, please do not self-publish your books unless you are a very good editor or you have an agent (which means someone in the business actually thinks you can write and your book might be good) and you've exhausted all other options. Otherwise, just...don't do what that author did. I'm begging you. My brain folds are still trying to recover. I'm not making any guarantees, it's too early to tell, but I think I may be allergic to adverbs. Or bad books.