tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-45983460081156702302024-02-19T21:08:02.111-05:00The Maniacal MindRantings, Reviews, and Retrospect from a Random-minded NovelistAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11610184057896951494noreply@blogger.comBlogger76125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4598346008115670230.post-40873850276543852612012-02-03T14:25:00.000-05:002012-02-03T14:25:00.148-05:00Introducing the 30 Minute Friday Link up!Hey, bloggers and writers! I have an exciting announcement!<br />
<br />
Over on 30 Minute Fiction, I've started a new <b>weekly link-up/blog hop</b>!<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><a href="http://30minfiction.wordpress.com/2012/02/03/introducing-30-minute-fridays-link-up/">30 Minute Friday</a></span></div>
<br />
You can post any piece of fiction (or <i>piece</i> of a piece of fiction) that you've written anytime, anywhere, in any genre, in less than 30 minutes!<br />
<br />
So head on over to<br />
<br />
<div style="color: #38761d; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><a href="http://30minfiction.wordpress.com/">30 Minute Fiction</a></span></div>
<br />
for the first<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #38761d; font-size: x-large;"><a href="http://30minfiction.wordpress.com/2012/02/03/introducing-30-minute-fridays-link-up/">30 Minute Friday!</a></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Seriously, go there now and post your stuff!</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11610184057896951494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4598346008115670230.post-56455833917650735612012-02-01T15:01:00.003-05:002012-02-01T15:01:55.633-05:0030 Minute Fiction: 2/1 Update (Short Stories, Novels, Poems, & More!)So, you guys remember my announcement about <a href="http://30minfiction.wordpress.com/"><b><u>30 Minute Fiction</u></b></a>, right? My new WordPress blog where I churn out a 30-minute-or-less piece of fiction every day? Well, it's been pretty successful thus far, and I've decided to include a weekly update for it here so that you Blogger people can keep up with it!<br />
<br />
In the first week of <b>30 Minute Fiction</b>, here's what was written:<br />
<br />
<b>1.) <a href="http://30minfiction.wordpress.com/2012/01/26/dorian/">Dorian</a>- </b>A speculative sci-fi short story about the future of robotics and artificial intelligence<br />
<br />
<b>2.) An except from <a href="http://30minfiction.wordpress.com/2012/01/27/the-solutionist-unspecified-excerpt/"><u>The Solutionist</u></a>- </b>Yes, that's right! The first thing I've written for it!<br />
<br />
<b>3.) <a href="http://30minfiction.wordpress.com/2012/01/28/the-division-a-poem/">The Division</a>-</b> a poem inspired by the dVerse Poets prompt, <a href="http://dversepoets.com/2012/01/28/poetics-undercurrents/"><i>Undercurrents</i></a><br />
<br />
<b>4.) <a href="http://30minfiction.wordpress.com/2012/01/29/judgment-unspecified-excerpt/">Judgment</a>-</b> By far my most popular piece of week one, a fantasy short story about Judgment itself<br />
<br />
<b>5.) <a href="http://30minfiction.wordpress.com/2012/01/30/8-minutes/">8 Minutes</a>- </b>a short, space opera sci-fi story about a ship in danger and the last hope for a civilization<br />
<br />
<b>6.) <a href="http://30minfiction.wordpress.com/2012/01/31/rebound-a-poem/">Rebound</a>-</b> a poem written for dVerse Poets latest open link light<br />
<br />
<b>7.) The beginning of <a href="http://30minfiction.wordpress.com/2012/02/01/stolen-the-beginning/">Stolen</a>- </b>an excerpt from a novel you don't know much about, which also happens to be my <i>only</i> historical fantasy attempt<br />
<br />
If you missed any (or missed the announcement of 30 Minute Fiction), please head on over and read them now!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11610184057896951494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4598346008115670230.post-75810495400854153722012-01-27T21:54:00.001-05:002012-01-27T22:06:27.451-05:00Poetry: A Writer on the InternetI wake, I rise, get up, and go<br />
Sit down, turn on my Macbook Pro<br />
<br />
Wait for the load screen and that sound<br />
And watch my data come around<br />
<br />
Meanwhile, I dress, put on my socks<br />
Then click Mozilla Firefox<br />
<br />
It starts at Yahoo; God knows why<br />
Then it's to Gmail after two tries<br />
<br />
My first mail loads, and so I wait<br />
Good Lord, 158<br />
<br />
Three from college, eighty spam<br />
Delete them all like the God I am<br />
<br />
Don't save a one, because you see<br />
They're Amazon ads for crap TV<br />
<br />
Log out, back in with a different name,<br />
To see if I've hit tumblr fame<br />
<br />
But no, alas, I'm in the sticks<br />
Reblogging quotes and Sherlock pics<br />
<br />
I try a poem, they're kinda stiff<br />
So I get more notes on a silly gif<br />
<br />
Two hours later, I realize<br />
That tumblr's taken over my life<br />
<br />
So I click away, I must escape!<br />
If only to reach a similar fate<br />
<br />
Cause I hit Cheezburger, their spell!<br />
They've got me going LOL<br />
<br />
God damn it all, I try again<br />
And end up in my Blogger den<br />
<br />
Thank goodness! Writing! Finally!<br />
And yet, it is not meant to me<br />
<br />
Cause I've got comments everywhere<br />
On a post I did for a stupid dare<br />
<br />
Wade through them all and reach the top<br />
Realization: I have writer's block<br />
<br />
Sigh, time to browse some more<br />
Wonder what G+ has in store?<br />
<br />
Ten million posts, ten thousand chats<br />
And half of them are about cats<br />
<br />
Check my circles, you might say!<br />
You really think that can save the day?<br />
<br />
This circle thing, I've heard of you<br />
But I suck at it, so I've only got two<br />
<br />
Sci-fi writers, like my awesome self!<br />
And a generic category for everyone else<br />
<br />
So Google+ goes down the drain<br />
On to WordPress, you might claim<br />
<br />
But I'm brand new on WordPress, see<br />
So no one's ever heard of me<br />
<br />
How about twitter? It never fails!<br />
Until you get that frigging whale<br />
<br />
Critique Circle, will you save the day?<br />
No, you just want me to pay...<br />
<br />
Or Facebook? Land of social ends!<br />
The one on which I have no friends?<br />
<br />
Fmylife? To have a fit?<br />
Well, that's kinda accurate<br />
<br />
Listverse! Wondrous lists of win!<br />
A list of 80's songs again?<br />
<br />
Head over to Not Always Right?<br />
But I read them all the other night<br />
<br />
Weather.com for a moment's gain?<br />
Wonderful, it's going to rain<br />
<br />
Screenrant? What is all that clout?<br />
Apparently movies I don't care about<br />
<br />
Fifty minutes later...I should sue...<br />
I end up back on old Yahoo<br />
<br />
"Articles" with 50 typos still<br />
What I wouldn't give to kill...<br />
<br />
<br />
And when I look up, I check the time<br />
I put this line here just to rhyme<br />
<br />
<br />
Close Firefox and go to class,<br />
The internet can kiss my ass<br />
<br />
<br />
But it knows that I'll be back later<br />
My mind is such an effing traitor<br />
<br />
<br />
I'll sit back down and stare again<br />
Whilst writing nothing made of win<br />
<br />
<br />
So here it is, my ode of fret<br />
Of a writer on the internetAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11610184057896951494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4598346008115670230.post-85277094325220097212012-01-26T18:53:00.000-05:002012-01-26T18:55:41.630-05:00Started a New Blog! Presenting "30 Minute Fiction"So, I have some exciting news! With my lack of writing initiative, I've decided to force myself to get into the habit of writing a lot of different stuff frequently.<br />
<br />
So I started a Word Press blog! That's right, I know have a blog on Word Press.<br />
<br />
<div style="color: #38761d; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://30minfiction.wordpress.com/"><b>30 Minute Fiction</b></a></span></div>
<br />
Basically, I write something in 30 minutes or less and post it. Standard title is standard.<br />
<br />
Anyway, I'm really excited about this! I'd love it if you'd guys would <i>subscribe</i> to <b>30 Minute Fiction</b>! I promise I won't spam you with ten crap tons of crappy writing. I promise.<br />
<br />
Although you're probably wondering what kind of stuff will end up there. Well, everything. Poetry. Short stories. Snippets from novels I'm working on. Random monologues that don't seem to have a place anywhere. Anything I think up and write in 30 minutes or less.<br />
<br />
Personally, I think this is a fun exercise. What do you guys think?<br />
<br />
I actually something up there already, a short story entitled "Dorian." If you time, I'd love it if you'd check it out and leave some comments. =)<br />
<br />
In case you're still unsure, here's what the "About" page of <b>30 Minute Fiction</b> has to say about it:<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
_________________ </div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<i>30 Minute Fiction is a blog dedicated to raw, unedited,
uncensored, spur-of-the-moment fiction. Prose and poetry. Fantasy and
Sci-Fi. G-rated and R. The genres don’t matter. The ratings don’t
matter. What matters is that the fiction here is thought-incarnate. No
worries about “which words to choose” and “showing not telling.” No
getting hung up over a missing comma or a misused word.</i><br />
<br />
<i>
</i><i>This is not the publishing industry. This is the industry of imagination.</i><br />
<br />
<i>
</i><i>These are thoughts that are free flowing. These are words that are
once-written, with all their mistakes and awkwardness and rampant
uncomfortable disassociation to their ideas. These are characters with a
hundred flaws or none at all. These are places with a million colors or
no more than black and white. These are plots with a thousand points or
a single point. These are things that makes perfect sense or complete
nonsense.</i><br />
<br />
<i>
</i><i>30 Minute Fiction is not the place to come for perfection.</i><br />
<br />
<i>
</i><i>It’s the place to come for truth.</i><br />
<br />
<i>
</i><i>In mind.</i><br />
<br />
<i>
</i><i>In thought.</i><br />
<br />
<i>
</i><i>In writing.</i><br />
<br />
<i><b>-Nick Rolynd</b> </i>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11610184057896951494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4598346008115670230.post-1944054809031100112012-01-22T18:48:00.002-05:002012-01-22T18:53:35.117-05:00Poetry: A Battle Hymn of Hearts<div style="text-align: center;">
A line</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
A flash</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
A brief, quick clash</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Zips through my mind </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
As it burns to ash</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
A step</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
A trick</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Admonishment </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Pain for what I've done</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
To your detriment </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I walk</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I fight</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I won the right</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
To climb those steps</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
To the highest heights</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I see</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I hear</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I have no fear</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
My chest is hollow</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And my mind is clear</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Once upon a time,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
In a land we all know</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
There was a fiery battle </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
With a stake in tow</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Some won, some lost</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
But all were burned</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Most by the ideals</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Of which they'd learned</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
There was a time before</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
We were invincible</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
We were young and strong</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Had basic principles</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Our heads were in the clouds</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Lost in pathetic ideals</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Like the perfect little romance</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
No Achilles's heel<br />
<br />
But after the fact</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
The past was black</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
We were all wounded</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
In the last attack</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Scared and scarred</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Missed and marred</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Our hearts were a desert</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
With an endless far</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Hope was a mirror</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
That was shattered in rage</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Happiness, a cloud</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Behind a mountain range</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Safety had two faces</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
One black, one white</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
One the true redeemer</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
One a killer in the night</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
We tried, we failed</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
We couldn't prevail</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
We all fell prey </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
To what life entails</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And life is a puzzle</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
With a single missing piece</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
That binds us all to search</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
A infinite caprice </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
A thought </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
A dream</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Not what it seems</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Life is an endless war</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Within an endless scheme</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
A search</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
A find</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
You'll lose your mind</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Chasing your delusions</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
In never ending time </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I loved</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I lost</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I know the cost</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
This is my penance </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And not yours to accost</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I stop</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I start</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
This is my art</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Screaming to the sky</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
A Battle hymn of hearts</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11610184057896951494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4598346008115670230.post-61408630518335837212012-01-06T18:20:00.001-05:002012-01-06T18:20:51.512-05:00Review: "Legend" by Marie Lu<b>Warning:</b> This review <strike>may</strike> <i>does</i> contain <span style="color: #cc0000;">spoilers.</span><br />
<br />
Dystopian sci-fi has really been on fire for the last few years, and <u>Legend</u> by Marie Lu is one of the newest installments to the genre. I actually stumbled onto this novel on Amazon, while searching for new dystopian novels. The premise sounded pretty good, so I decided to ask for it as a part of my Christmas book bundle.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigg6cCOdRcJQ73fpBWN9rJXLs1QQkybgpchxgzCPOb9j-HFm_RA6v1vVvQuhcGFfwRAi-fdiKVhk4Ei1TWcMlxIiN1dybeftZ7EuJS3QMcip9bmerJPx4h7HkJxhvMZCxRA5OKCIwjTY5A/s1600/legend.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigg6cCOdRcJQ73fpBWN9rJXLs1QQkybgpchxgzCPOb9j-HFm_RA6v1vVvQuhcGFfwRAi-fdiKVhk4Ei1TWcMlxIiN1dybeftZ7EuJS3QMcip9bmerJPx4h7HkJxhvMZCxRA5OKCIwjTY5A/s320/legend.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Available on <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Legend-Marie-Lu/dp/039925675X/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1325891614&sr=8-1">Amazon</a> for $12.23</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
And I was not disappointed.<br />
<br />
<u>Legend</u> is set in a far future America, ravaged by natural disasters (go figure), that has split into the Republic of America and the Colonies. The Republic is ruled by an "elected" Elector Primo, and the entire society is severely weighed toward militaristic. There is little to no equality among the people, with the small upper class being extremely wealthy and practically everyone else living in the slums.<br />
<br />
However, all children from both classes are forced to undergo the "Trial," which is a supposedly fair test of intelligence, physical strength, and mental stability. The children who score very highly get their choice of university and occupation. Those in the middle ranges get to go to college, but don't end up in the most lucrative positions. Those in the lower ranges end up in the slums.<br />
<br />
Those who fail get carted off to "labor camps."<br />
<br />
Oh, and did I mention they take this "Trial" at age ten?<br />
<br />
So, like usual, you have the dystopian totalitarian-style government that wrongs the majority of its people, torments them with poverty and militaristic police, and kills off any dissidents without a second thought.<br />
<br />
Standard setup, yes, but Lu executes it well.<br />
<br />
It's her characters, however, that really shine. The novel centers around the pampered military prodigy, June, and the young master criminal, Day, who get caught up in each others' lives when Day is accused of murdering June's brother, Metias, during an attempted theft of a cure for the plague that has sickened his younger brother.<br />
<br />
From here, everything quickly spins out of control for both of them. Day's slum-dwelling family is forced to watch as the youngest brother gets sicker and sicker, and Day struggles to find a way to get the cure for him. His plight is compounded by the fact that he can't visit them in plain sight. His mother thinks he's dead, and there's a massive price on his head as the Republic's most wanted. <br />
<br />
Meanwhile, June, shell-shocked by her brother's sudden death (and thus, the death of her only guardian), ends up recruited by her brother's former commander. She is graduated early from her university and immediately sent on a mission to track down Day. She also finds herself having to fend off advances from her and her brother's closest friend, Thomas, who continually attempts to get closer to her despite her rejections.<br />
<br />
If there's anything I can say about Lu's story, it's that it never stops going. There are no pauses in the plot, no point at which the action wanes. As soon as her characters and story are set in motion, they just keep speeding up right until the end.<br />
<br />
As expected, June and Day end up meeting in the slums while June is undercover, neither knowing who the other is. They gradually strike up a friendship (and, this being YA, a budding romance), and it's striking even to the reader (well, at least to me) how alike they are. Both highly intelligent. Both cunning. Both physically skilled. They see details in the same way. They dissect situations expertly. They're basically exact counterparts of one another, which I was quite happy to discover because it really makes Lu's points about their society come across loud and clear.<br />
<br />
After their meeting, a rapid set of events unfolds, wherein June realizes who Day is, gets him captured, and then suddenly stumbles upon the truth about their society: those who fail the Trial don't get sent to labor camps. They get experimented on and killed. And not only that, but Day, who supposedly failed his Trial, actually got a perfect score (where June was supposed to be the first one ever to do so). They only claimed he failed. Why?<br />
<br />
Well, June never discovers the reason herself, but it's heavily implied that they sent Day to die because they found him too "rebellious." Because the only thing more dangerous than a "dumb" rebellious boy from the slums is an ingenious one. <br />
<br />
On top of all that, June realizes that her brother--who uncovered the truth--was actually killed by the military (read: his own "friend," <i>Thomas</i>) for doing so, and that Day was just set up to take the blame. And if that wasn't bad enough, the government also killed her parents after her father, a medical doctor, uncovered the truth about the ever-lasting and evolving "plague": that it is purposefully given to the slum-dwellers in order to test it as a viable weapon for the war against the Colonies.<br />
<br />
Horrified by the government and what she's done, she sets up a plan to break Day out a prison before his execution. And, of course, she succeeds (or else this novel would be very sad and probably be a stand alone).<br />
<br />
At the end, you're left with the quite the setup: Day's sick brother, Eden, who's been infected with a mutated plague, has been carted off to the front lines for military "uses." June and Day, now <i>both</i> fugitives, are on the run, and their only hope for survival may be the Colonies that the Republic has fought so hard to destroy.<br />
<br />
So, my overall impressions of this story are quite good. It <i>is</i> predictable at times, but then again, it <i>is</i> YA, so you can't expect it to be overly complicated. The characters are a shining point for Lu, and I can't wait to read some more of their adventures. Her setting, while "standard" for a dystopian story, is well-designed and believable. And really, you can't ask for much else.<br />
<br />
Although, I should mention something that really got me: the <i>book design</i>. If you buy this book, <i>buy it in print</i>. The design of this book extends beyond the cover. The fonts for June and Day's POVs are <i>different</i>, and Day's chapters are actually printed in a shade of <i>gold</i>. It's quite pretty and very different from your average book.<br />
<br />
So, to read or not to read? I say read it. You certainly don't stand to lose much, and it's a fairly entertaining story. I can't wait to read the sequels.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;"><u></u>Rating:<span style="background-color: white; color: #93c47d;"> A- </span></span></b></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11610184057896951494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4598346008115670230.post-62279012178145723272012-01-05T16:29:00.001-05:002012-01-05T16:41:25.414-05:00Review: "The Hunger Games" trilogy by Suzanne Collins<b>Warning:</b> This review may contain <span style="color: #cc0000;">spoilers.</span><br />
<br />
<u>The Hunger Games</u> trilogy has generated a lot of buzz recently, mostly due to the upcoming (and fantastic looking) movie adaptation of the first book. So I decided to bump it up on my to-read list. And I wasn't disappointed.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt-Zz6U75KxdXBzteumYbSWKTJpb9pJHROHx6s0Ik_YXlG5-JT1Ivgrr4dKnLp6zgocR9GCI9fn4qNu3CwA5zy24lS_sI6Jjb34-cqrZfZqzv49_dLPfIudexCRMONwEOGkC_6kmRnpCLS/s1600/cover4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt-Zz6U75KxdXBzteumYbSWKTJpb9pJHROHx6s0Ik_YXlG5-JT1Ivgrr4dKnLp6zgocR9GCI9fn4qNu3CwA5zy24lS_sI6Jjb34-cqrZfZqzv49_dLPfIudexCRMONwEOGkC_6kmRnpCLS/s320/cover4.jpg" width="215" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Available on <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Hunger-Games-Suzanne-Collins/dp/0439023521/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1325798732&sr=8-1">Amazon</a> for $5.39</i></td></tr>
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For those unfamiliar with the trilogy, it's set in a dystopian future America, called Panem, where various unnamed wars and environmental catastrophes have devastated the human race and left much of the Earth's landmass underwater. Panem is ruled by a totalitarian regime called the Capitol, that showers itself in wealth while enslaving the people within its twelve districts. Each district has a specific trade that nearly everyone is expected (and forced) to contribute to.<br />
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The defining mark of the Capitol regime is "the Hunger Games," an annual event where both a male and female tribute from each district are forced to fight to the death in a massive booby-trap ridden arena as perpetual punishment for an uprising in a time called "the Dark Days."<br />
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The trilogy follows the life of a teenager named Katniss, who volunteers to take the place of her younger sister as a tribute from District 12. In the first book, <u>The Hunger Games</u> itself, Katniss fights for her life both in the arena using her honed survival skills and within the cut-throat (literally) politics of the Capitol. Her mentor, former Hunger Games victor Haymitch, who knows how to play the Capitol's political games, sets Katniss and fellow District 12 tribute, Peeta, up as a pair of "star-crossed" lovers, a theme that follows them throughout the entire trilogy.<br />
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The Hunger Games themselves are quite brutal to read through (and I imagine will be even more brutal to watch), as the scenes of the "Games" involve children killing each other in the most horrible ways imaginable. However, they mark the center of a well-written and poignant story about the nature of humanity and its relationship with power.<br />
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The end of the <u>The Hunger Games</u> is predictable (I saw it coming for a while), but that doesn't make it any less effective. In fact, it makes it even more so, especially as you learn more and more about the <i>other</i> tributes and become attached to them as well.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhWE0a4uCQCcYj0Up1W0Ei-6rHg4UP3fZTRsG0KVq6iTWu_19I7BP1W-R6IgyeNmGO4hJulxEoP6OUk7YB7EqsRENpf763yWjWzXw9ZuhZB8A0eiaAYEnfbdQlgfT3Ul7EgYPDQ01415XW/s1600/CatchingFire_cvr.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhWE0a4uCQCcYj0Up1W0Ei-6rHg4UP3fZTRsG0KVq6iTWu_19I7BP1W-R6IgyeNmGO4hJulxEoP6OUk7YB7EqsRENpf763yWjWzXw9ZuhZB8A0eiaAYEnfbdQlgfT3Ul7EgYPDQ01415XW/s320/CatchingFire_cvr.jpg" width="211" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Available on <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Catching-Fire-Second-Hunger-Games/dp/0439023491/ref=sr_1_4?ie=UTF8&qid=1325798732&sr=8-4">Amazon</a> for $8.99</i></td></tr>
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The beginning of the trilogy, in my opinion, is a perfect execution of the kind of world that Collins was going for. It has the perfect amount of drama, violence, and romance, all wrapped up in a powerful moral message that's lessons are defined by the abundant corruption seen on just about every page of the book.<br />
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So, the first book is an amazing read. But what about the other two?<br />
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The second book in the trilogy, <u>Catching Fire</u>, begins to shift the story <i>away</i> from the corruption itself and more onto its effects on Katniss. The major plot still chugs along just fine, but the focus on Katniss' emotional state as the story progresses is much sharper and incredibly shocking. And Collins pulls this off perfectly as well.<br />
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I often see a lot of authors gloss over ambivalence in their characters, as if keeping them "steady" is realistic. But Collins doesn't fall for this. She shows every little mistake, every moment of confusion, that Katniss experiences throughout, and if this doesn't make Katniss a realistic heroine, then I don't know what does.<br />
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One of the things I enjoyed most from <u>Catching Fire</u> is the abundance of new characters. Since most of the characters you come to love in <u>The Hunger Games</u> actually end up dead by the end, they need some good replacements. And Collins delivers, in my opinion, even better ones. This is because <u>Catching Fire</u> revolves around the "Quarter Quell," which is a Hunger Games round where the normal rules are thrown out the window and a special set of tributes is chosen.<br />
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And, of course, this Quarter Quell's tributes...are chosen from the <i>previous winners</i>. Seeing as Katniss is the only female winner from District 12, she automatically has to compete. You see, in the first book, Katniss uses a trick to save both her and Peeta's life (since there is usually only one winner).<br />
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The "president" of Panem, Snow, and makers of the Hunger Games, therefore, are humiliated and shamed. And beyond that, Katniss' defiance of the Capitol's rules sets off a rebellious streak in all twelve districts.<br />
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And so a target is painted on Katniss. One that is not erased until the very end of the trilogy. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYQ9rww2k9hTdBlXqQ6k-Aws7o4-eX5w7fNepJAxfPL3cfw3RRRBi0IxucNxpTSCb8CvbCBAXQUMU7AvPYUaT_i93npugq66toatPh487VBxgL34NMBigzilJenWyuGj31PsV3PtvGhyphenhyphenr6/s1600/mockingay.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYQ9rww2k9hTdBlXqQ6k-Aws7o4-eX5w7fNepJAxfPL3cfw3RRRBi0IxucNxpTSCb8CvbCBAXQUMU7AvPYUaT_i93npugq66toatPh487VBxgL34NMBigzilJenWyuGj31PsV3PtvGhyphenhyphenr6/s320/mockingay.jpg" width="210" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Available on <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Mockingjay-Hunger-Games-Book-3/dp/0439023513/ref=sr_1_5?ie=UTF8&qid=1325798732&sr=8-5">Amazon</a> for $8.98</i></td></tr>
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<u>Catching Fire</u> then proceeds to introduce some of the most memorable characters ever. Since the contestants are past tributes, they each bring heavy histories and emotional baggage to the Quarter Quell. They also bring a plan to break out of the arena, unbeknownst to Katniss. To me, following the stories and plans of these new characters was far more compelling than the ones from <u>The Hunger Games</u>.<br />
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And so, at the end of <u>Catching Fire</u>, we are left with a setup that promises a grand finale.<br />
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Then we get to <u>Mockingjay</u>.<br />
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I'd seen a lot of people around before I started the series who didn't like <u>Mockingjay</u>, and after starting the series, I kept wondering why. Then I actually got to it, and I understood perfectly.<br />
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<u>Mockingjay</u> is <i>not</i> like the first two books. Whereas the focus in the first two is split about evenly between the main plot line and Katniss' emotions and thoughts, the final book suddenly tips the scales toward the latter. By a lot. While the plot still marches onward toward an exciting, horrifying, and bittersweet finale, its often overshadowed by Katniss' collapsing mental state.<br />
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There were times in the book when the only thing I could focus on was Katniss' obvious and severe post-traumatic stress disorder. She ends up in the hospital so many times, drugged up on the equivalent of morphine and suffering endless nightmares, that I often forgot what else was actually happening. <br />
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I still like <u>Mockingjay</u>, quite a lot, but it <i>is</i> hard to have the same feelings for it as I do for the first two. The story descends into a pit of severe depression and mental trauma that it never really climbs out of, and it tended to jar me a bit out of the story as a whole every now and then.<br />
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Now, don't get me wrong. The events of <u>Mockingjay</u> and Katniss' declining mental state were obviously planned by Collins to have this effect on the reader. Collins doesn't spare any expense to make you <i>feel</i> the pain her characters are in and to understand why they're suffering. It's plainly obvious that one of Collins' major points was to make the world of <u>The Hunger Games</u> universe as real as it could possibly be.<br />
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And she succeeded, in my opinion, because there really is no getting around the fact that the mental and emotional trauma, the horrors of war, and the stress that her characters face are eerily and horrifically realistic. But at the same time, that level of realism has the potential to turn some readers off, especially since the series is YA.<br />
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So, while I find that the series as a whole is a dystopian <i>masterpiece</i>, I will warn you now that it descends into some very <i>dark</i> and <i>disturbing</i> places. You will watch as teenagers have their lives completely destroyed, their families killed and tortured, their minds left in tatters, and their emotions horrifically distorted. Permanently.<br />
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And even at end of all things, you won't find any real happiness. You'll find realism. And that realism entails the depiction of horrors of totalitarianism and war and its lasting effects on the people who experience it.<br />
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So, <u>The Hunger Games</u> trilogy. Dark. Thrilling. Poignant. Realistic. Should you read it? Definitely. <br />
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<b><u>The Hunger Games</u> Rating: <span style="color: #6aa84f;">A+</span></b></div>
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<b><u>Catching Fire</u> Rating: <span style="color: #6aa84f;">A+</span></b></div>
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<b><u>Mockingjay</u> Rating:<span style="color: #6aa84f;"> A</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Overall Series Rating: <span style="color: #6aa84f;">A+</span></b></span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11610184057896951494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4598346008115670230.post-51935563662167635002011-12-31T14:35:00.002-05:002011-12-31T14:35:58.652-05:00Reading: Top 5 Books of 2011I haven't had a whole lot of time to read this year (because of a killer college semester), but somehow, I did manage to stuff quite a few books into these last few weeks of the year (though I unfortunately wasn't able to get all the most popular ones). So, without further ado (seeing as how New Years is tomorrow), here are my top five reads of 2011!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikLBy-wq0P1gdmBtxRen-KeE2rvxPnCFkmuAB8vJXmNGjUsRqitfx5cyz-eHcxRxQjbKkJ9DA60DPUuX5ljOpw8VYAKC5ibsib5YKEH7QemUAMApYj2H5FlVrNCuArmJzr3kmayx1RnaZ5/s1600/TheIronKnightfinal.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikLBy-wq0P1gdmBtxRen-KeE2rvxPnCFkmuAB8vJXmNGjUsRqitfx5cyz-eHcxRxQjbKkJ9DA60DPUuX5ljOpw8VYAKC5ibsib5YKEH7QemUAMApYj2H5FlVrNCuArmJzr3kmayx1RnaZ5/s200/TheIronKnightfinal.jpg" width="131" /></a></div>
<b style="color: #e06666;">5.)</b><span style="color: #e06666;"> </span><b style="color: #e06666;"><i>The Iron Knight</i> </b><span style="color: #e06666;">by </span><i style="color: #e06666;">Julie Kagawa</i><span style="color: #e06666;">-</span> Though its ending was predictable, I really liked the plot of this book. It had my favorite characters from the entire series, all journeying toward the equivalent of the edge of the Earth, and finding some pretty awesome and terrifying things along the way. Good way to top off a decent series, I thought.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3aKAP_DSGyiQ8ZAaafsYhpm73TvTtCBH_O-wch9VLze7Iw-TpwPuPfw0M0ICAWFxhS22QSsbk0KIpkfX41Jdf1U3BBVBQIjkUXgz-WxAg2uYKgSbsC8I_xlv7HIklS_89hrANdf-_HGsn/s1600/6368611.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3aKAP_DSGyiQ8ZAaafsYhpm73TvTtCBH_O-wch9VLze7Iw-TpwPuPfw0M0ICAWFxhS22QSsbk0KIpkfX41Jdf1U3BBVBQIjkUXgz-WxAg2uYKgSbsC8I_xlv7HIklS_89hrANdf-_HGsn/s200/6368611.jpg" width="131" /></a><b style="color: #a64d79;">4.) <i>Darkest Mercy</i></b><span style="color: #a64d79;"> by </span><i style="color: #a64d79;">Melissa Marr</i><span style="color: #a64d79;">-</span> I've always liked Marr's depiction of faeries, and while (yet again) I found the ending contrived, I found the novel as a whole a great ending to the <i>Wicked Lovely</i> series. All the characters' conflicts seem to explode at once into this fantastical all out war zone that existed right beneath ignorant eyes of the human world.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj-WtO2gzUKnbyPIfTEatrZ42_vNzXfUzv0BGyuFdmB48xM0RbckkwYnJqU-DorveNLRf3oXpJS_0X6uJUN_5Nm_Tef9XRqD1L-Wod7p-A99M_8_AMiZg7iYxTobID0YMklSgcR3C0F3uM/s1600/CoFAJKT_DEC7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj-WtO2gzUKnbyPIfTEatrZ42_vNzXfUzv0BGyuFdmB48xM0RbckkwYnJqU-DorveNLRf3oXpJS_0X6uJUN_5Nm_Tef9XRqD1L-Wod7p-A99M_8_AMiZg7iYxTobID0YMklSgcR3C0F3uM/s200/CoFAJKT_DEC7.jpg" width="133" /></a><br />
<b style="color: #e69138;">3.) <i>City of Fallen Angels</i></b><span style="color: #e69138;"> by </span><i style="color: #e69138;">Cassandra Clare-</i> I was hesitant at first to read this, if only because an "extension" of what was originally supposed to be a trilogy rarely works out well. But I found that Clare did a damn good job with it. The story makes sense, is dramatic, and picks up right where the trilogy left off without a single hitch. I especially like this book's focus on Simon, as he's been one of my favorite characters throughout, and I'm highly interested in seeing where the last two books of <i>The Mortal Instruments</i> takes him.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU-JOJuVs6fL-mO7iTy1qjYzwmhsvKquFssj38Nd8l_dGwqdlhvtw9lJ5MrYZP3eQeohjcKphvku5FowYPTpBS0xg9PNBFBv2YZgnmeH-flV_5yW8P-XZbLE1e73g7TkasES5WS-ZLy6RA/s1600/200px-Hunger_games.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU-JOJuVs6fL-mO7iTy1qjYzwmhsvKquFssj38Nd8l_dGwqdlhvtw9lJ5MrYZP3eQeohjcKphvku5FowYPTpBS0xg9PNBFBv2YZgnmeH-flV_5yW8P-XZbLE1e73g7TkasES5WS-ZLy6RA/s200/200px-Hunger_games.jpg" width="132" /></a><b style="color: #3d85c6;">2.) <i>The Hunger Games</i></b><span style="color: #3d85c6;"> by </span><i style="color: #3d85c6;">Suzanne Collins</i><span style="color: #3d85c6;">-</span> Ha, this didn't come out in 2011, but I, unfortunately, just got around to reading the series. I wasn't sure what to expect, and the first person, present tense through me for a loop, but I think that it does indeed hold up to its hype, and I'm very excited for the March-release movie. I'm currently reading the second installment of the series, <b><i>Catching Fire</i></b>.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvqFZuPJUdjWY6aNnOXBP6UOC9kSZ1dqEnvb1BqGg8Fe0m-ooZI4xyvi2E8PpkTaq5KF-94nJzELVOPjkU1h0ZSl1Qn8ArRGik2JJF_oL0LmbYK5GWLFgB8Dqu8kQlNtckObBVxzOgbulE/s1600/27009.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvqFZuPJUdjWY6aNnOXBP6UOC9kSZ1dqEnvb1BqGg8Fe0m-ooZI4xyvi2E8PpkTaq5KF-94nJzELVOPjkU1h0ZSl1Qn8ArRGik2JJF_oL0LmbYK5GWLFgB8Dqu8kQlNtckObBVxzOgbulE/s200/27009.jpg" width="131" /></a></div>
<b style="color: #6aa84f;">1.) <i>Clockwork Prince</i></b><span style="color: #6aa84f;"> by </span><i style="color: #6aa84f;">Cassandra Clare</i><span style="color: #6aa84f;">-</span> Had I finished more of the books in my current to-read stack (like <b><i>The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo</i></b> and <b><i>Daughter of Smoke and Bone</i></b>), Clare probably wouldn't have had two entries on the list. But even then, <b><i>Clockwork Prince</i></b> would likely have still been number one. There is really no getting past how far Clare has come since <b><i>City of Bones</i></b>. This book is a dramatic wonder, and despite the fact that there's only one real battle scene in the entire novel, it still came off as one of the most exciting stories of the year. The writing, the plot, the character dynamics...everything has been ramped up in this book, and I've never been more exasperated by a book-release wait time than I am for the final installment of <i>The Infernal Devices</i>.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11610184057896951494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4598346008115670230.post-90051995720858918592011-12-29T19:09:00.000-05:002011-12-29T19:53:30.961-05:00Poetry: The Writing Year<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Written for the New Year Couplet prompt at <a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_1955855848">dVerse</a></i><a href="http://dversepoets.com/"> </a></span></div>
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I stumbled from a cliff of words</div>
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Fell through a lost plot event herd</div>
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Tumbled over a scrapped climax</div>
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Rolled past a character that got the axe</div>
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Flew down toward the grammar hell</div>
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That burned my interrobang yells</div>
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Floated toward a comma cloud</div>
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That beat my page with thunder loud</div>
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Flew high so near the sentence sun</div>
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That scorched run-ons til they were done</div>
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Drifted into that empty space</div>
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Where em-dashes gave up the chase</div>
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Careened into the black abyss </div>
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Where characterization goes amiss</div>
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Got sucked into the genre void</div>
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Wherein my label was destroyed</div>
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Thrown out into a field of thoughts</div>
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The brainstorm field where I first caught</div>
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The ideas that then filled my page</div>
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With wondrous loves and endless rage</div>
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I blinked and spied my lonely pen</div>
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Realized I would have to start again</div>
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Tossed my page off the scrapping pier</div>
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And strode to a new writing year</div>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11610184057896951494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4598346008115670230.post-73908933590121877852011-12-22T22:47:00.002-05:002011-12-22T22:47:45.485-05:00Poetry: On Writing<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>For the contrast challenge at <a href="http://dversepoets.com/">dVerse</a></i></span></div>
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Down a dark and empty road<br />
I glimpsed upon a beam of light<br />
Drawn toward its hidden code<br />
I garnered knowledge of my life<br />
Drudging with a hollow mode<br />
I gladly skipped toward the sight<br />
Dragged nearer to a heavy load<br />
I guessed at chance that I could fight<br />
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Depressed until my back was bowed<br />
I gasped and ran far from the light<br />
Distrustful of its dark abode<br />
I grabbed the weapon of most might<br />
Deranged by all my nightmare's goads<br />
I grappled with my altered sight<br />
Dislodged the evil from its node<br />
I grasped the highest of the heights<br />
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Depths beyond where I long rode<br />
I garnered hope to solve my plight<br />
Darkness followed seeds I sowed<br />
I guessed that this was just for spite<br />
Despite its will but to corrode<br />
I gained the needed knowledge slight<br />
Determined still, toward I strode<br />
I glorified my strength to writeAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11610184057896951494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4598346008115670230.post-79673297564840726642011-12-20T03:08:00.002-05:002011-12-20T15:08:40.314-05:00Poetry: The Dream<div style="text-align: center;">
My eyes were cast upon a sun</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
That existed in no worldly time</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
A frozen sun of wonderlands</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Perfectly etched into my mind</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
But this sun shattered in my eyes</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
It split into a thousand shards</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And each contained a wonderland</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
That stretched a billion-million yards</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
These wonderlands that I did see</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Held the lonesome weight of mystery</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
This mystery, it plagued my mind</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Until I myself was lost in time</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
This time of mine trudged ever slow</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Toward the white rapids that flow</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Into the river of a thousand roads</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
That leads me on where no one knows</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
My eyes were cast upon a moon</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
That existed in no earthly rhyme</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
A burning moon of crimson hells</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Painfully etched into my mind</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
But this moon crumbled in my eyes</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
It split into a thousand stones</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And each contained a crimson hell</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
That all the universe bemoaned</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
These crimson hells I saw again</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Held the lonesome weight of Earthly sin</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
This Earthly sin, it plagued my soul</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Until I was lost to all I know</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
This ignorance, it dragged me down</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Toward the darkness in the ground</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Toward that which exists beyond</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
From which no mortal can abscond</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
My eyes were cast upon a light</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
That existed in no human mind</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
A filling light of knowledge pure</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Meant for the perfect of my kind</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
But this knowledge slipped away </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
It fluttered off into the night</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
It left my fingers cold and sore </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And told me I had lost this fight</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
This knowledge pure, it was my test</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Meant to be won by just the best</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
But best means perfect in its terms</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And humanity is what perfect spurns</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
So knowledge did not take me high</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Instead it left me low and dry</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Dying of thirst, to me it seemed</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
For all the knowledge within dreams</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11610184057896951494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4598346008115670230.post-6192854150907612402011-12-19T21:17:00.001-05:002011-12-19T23:20:53.551-05:00Review: "The Iron Fey" Series by Julie Kagawa<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUk3z-1jnGx9p_W6-h1sgT6SvKoo0CmGsA37yfH_dN9gQrajC6vq236KLEcVIDZFI4jjtUI0sUBeq6eAY9kHH2dIvrmF18rjNHBfz6jH2ZuX_cI9Gf6fCBj8_fImlfCmCMrnnl4bxGPMnS/s1600/The+iron+King.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUk3z-1jnGx9p_W6-h1sgT6SvKoo0CmGsA37yfH_dN9gQrajC6vq236KLEcVIDZFI4jjtUI0sUBeq6eAY9kHH2dIvrmF18rjNHBfz6jH2ZuX_cI9Gf6fCBj8_fImlfCmCMrnnl4bxGPMnS/s320/The+iron+King.jpg" width="205" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Available on <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Iron-King-Harlequin-Teen/dp/0373210086/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1324346900&sr=8-1">Amazon</a> for $9.99</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b>Warning:</b> This review may contain <span style="color: #cc0000;">spoilers.</span><br />
<br />
I'm going to something that I rarely do: review an entire series. I've seen Kagawa's books floating around for a while now, but I didn't get around to buying them (all four) until yesterday. And I'm rather split on whether they were good purchases or not. But before I make any conclusions, lets go through the pros and the cons.<br />
<br />
The series begins with <u>The Iron King</u>, which introduces us the series' protagonist, Meghan Chase, and Kagawa's interpretation of the land of Faery, or the "Nevernever." I have to admit, I almost stopped reading this just a few pages in. The stereotypical female worries and complaints and the cliche teen angst almost drove me right over the edge.<br />
<br />
Thankfully, I decided to stick to it and kept reading. By the end, I was convinced that was a good decision. Kagawa's writing eventually evens out, and while the whole <i>Scott Waldren</i> thing annoyed me throughout, I felt that her development of Meghan was handled expertly.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1VPqyIphLz5UYRTu1GbIgnGpHm36Qp30MLR9rnfLjIsc6QVYOGi6wjHUH-0LOUGKYNqlWP7e6-vLNeyo76TnUyv_udMQbv8brvnOZ7pOWqXjaqmZTIc9KyqrSeAT7ZD_HP6C2AFPYarOj/s1600/Iron-Daughter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1VPqyIphLz5UYRTu1GbIgnGpHm36Qp30MLR9rnfLjIsc6QVYOGi6wjHUH-0LOUGKYNqlWP7e6-vLNeyo76TnUyv_udMQbv8brvnOZ7pOWqXjaqmZTIc9KyqrSeAT7ZD_HP6C2AFPYarOj/s320/Iron-Daughter.jpg" width="206" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Available on <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Iron-Daughter-Harlequin-Teen/dp/0373210132/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1324347285&sr=1-1">Amazon</a> for $9.99</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
As the series continues into the <u>The Iron Daughter</u> and <u>The Iron Queen</u>, however, I felt myself begin to lose interest in Meghan's story. I knew where it would end up early on, and I felt like it became more of a "fulfilling one's destiny" plot line than anything else. I found myself drawn to the other characters more than the protagonist, and I was far more concerned with the conflict between Puck and Ash than I was with Meghan's various conflicts. <br />
<br />
Her portrayal of the Summer and Winter courts was, on the other hand, fabulous, and their respective monarchs were--while having the <i>expected</i> personalities--quite refreshing characters. Their continual presence throughout the entire series provides a sort of balancing force that prevents the books from losing any steam along the way. <br />
<br />
As for the other characters, my feelings are...well, <i>split</i>. I <i>loved</i> the portrayal of Puck (in fact, I loved the portrayal of the <i>known</i> fey in general; I feel Kagawa pulled it off quite well). His presence was a highlight throughout every book, and his witty dialogue really kept me going. His place as a member of the main love triangle was also a shining point. His internal struggles revealed him to be a well-developed, complex character.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDUkqjhsjE72YmkabvjDJfmwPZwNUYWd_xb8TOvTLvd3VmJbG1eQBVPSmmo1xXDgo71zqIajM6ecjAeMaatcK05QC1ubLGtiWUK3b0Y409dbxiUZD6dgLEM5MfdLoHyEOOam2mzybi8JKR/s1600/The+Iron+Queen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDUkqjhsjE72YmkabvjDJfmwPZwNUYWd_xb8TOvTLvd3VmJbG1eQBVPSmmo1xXDgo71zqIajM6ecjAeMaatcK05QC1ubLGtiWUK3b0Y409dbxiUZD6dgLEM5MfdLoHyEOOam2mzybi8JKR/s320/The+Iron+Queen.jpg" width="199" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Available on <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Iron-Queen-Harlequin-Teen/dp/0373210183/ref=sr_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1324347285&sr=1-2">Amazon</a> for $9.99</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Grimalkin comes in as a close second to Puck on my favorites' list. While his perpetual disappearing acts began to get old by <u>The Iron Knight</u> (the last book), his stinging sarcasm never did. He balanced out the others characters quite nicely. The only real down side to Grimalkin was that I feel he served as a plot device <i>too</i> often. Basically, the entire series revolves around Grimalkin showing the characters exactly what to do and where to go with (with a snarky attitude). <br />
<br />
The only character I have a real problem with is Ash. I tried to like him, really I did (and I <i>do</i> like many things <i>about </i>him), but I felt his part was just <i>too</i> predictable. In <u>The Iron Daughter</u>, I had his entire role completely figured out from the beginning. And it's only compounded in <u>The Iron Knight</u>. The entirety of the latter is told from Ash's POV (which, of course, makes it more of an outlier <i>extra</i> book added to what would otherwise be a decent trilogy, as the first three are from Meghan's POV), and there were a lot of parts that just had me rolling my eyes.<br />
<br />
The appearance of Ariella, Ash's lost love, however, threw me for a bit, and I was interested to see where Kagawa would take it. Unfortunately, that too was entirely predictable, and from about the middle of the book onward, you know exactly what's going to happen to her. <br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikLBy-wq0P1gdmBtxRen-KeE2rvxPnCFkmuAB8vJXmNGjUsRqitfx5cyz-eHcxRxQjbKkJ9DA60DPUuX5ljOpw8VYAKC5ibsib5YKEH7QemUAMApYj2H5FlVrNCuArmJzr3kmayx1RnaZ5/s1600/TheIronKnightfinal.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikLBy-wq0P1gdmBtxRen-KeE2rvxPnCFkmuAB8vJXmNGjUsRqitfx5cyz-eHcxRxQjbKkJ9DA60DPUuX5ljOpw8VYAKC5ibsib5YKEH7QemUAMApYj2H5FlVrNCuArmJzr3kmayx1RnaZ5/s320/TheIronKnightfinal.jpg" width="210" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Available on <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Iron-Knight-Harlequin-Teen/dp/0373210361/ref=sr_1_4?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1324347285&sr=1-4">Amazon</a> for $9.99</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I think one of my favorite things about the series is the iron fey themselves. They're an odd bunch, and characters like Ironhorse, Glitch, Tertius, and the pack rats really add some interesting flavor to the series. The depiction of the Iron Kingdom was quite impressive as well. Acid rain that's <i>really</i> acid. A giant city, abandoned at the beginning of time by an extinct race of giant fey. Huge contraptions and buildings made of broken technology. The contrast to the other "natural" kingdoms and obvious (as I assume it is intended to be), but even then, it is quite stark and poignant, a reminder of how humanity has changed.<br />
<br />
My overall feelings on this series are <i>very</i> conflicted. On the one hand, there are <i>many </i>characters I adore, and a lot of them are very well developed. In general, the plot isn't so predictable that it becomes boring, but there are parts I saw coming from a <i>mile</i> away. <br />
<br />
Would I recommend this series?<br />
<br />
Yes, I would. It <i>is</i> predictable in many places, and there are a few cliches. But in general, the characters are well thought out, the action is continuous and interesting and unexpected, and the plot as a whole is very original. <br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><u><b>The Iron King</b></u><b> Rating: <span style="color: #bf9000;">B-</span></b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b><u>The Iron Daughter</u> Rating: <span style="color: #f1c232;">B</span></b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b><u>The Iron Queen</u> Rating: <span style="color: #b6d7a8;">B+</span> </b> </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b><u>The Iron Knight</u> Rating: <span style="color: #b6d7a8;">B+</span></b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Overall Series Rating: <span style="color: #f1c232;">B </span></b></span></div>
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11610184057896951494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4598346008115670230.post-33821721739293680632011-12-16T21:58:00.000-05:002011-12-17T23:40:56.620-05:00Story Dam Prompt: Mr. White's Letter to SantaDear Mr. Santa Claus:<br />
<br />
My name is Gregori White, CEO of Toys 4 You, and I have a proposition that I believe you will find most agreeable. Do you toil in and out all year, desperately trying to make enough toys for the boys and girls of the world? Do you find your resources--paint, wood, metal, Christmas cheer--horribly scarce at the most crucial of times? Do you find yourself having sleepless nights, swarming in paperwork and tinsel? <br />
<br />
Well, I have a solution. <br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a><br /><br />
Toys 4 You is the premiere toy company of the world. With a workforce of 300,000 employees and the most advanced toy-making technology to date, we have achieved the fastest toy processing lines on the planet. With our resource channels far superior to all our competitors, we never fail to have our products on time, in surplus, ready to be shipped--via our army of 16,000 trucks, ships, and planes--all over the world. <br />
<br />
We are the masters of the the toys.<br />
<br />
But you, Mr. Claus, you are the god!<br />
<br />
And I firmly believe that a partnership between you and Toys 4 You will create the most efficient toy-order and delivery system that the Earth has ever and will ever see! You will never again have to labor over sickly red-nosed reindeer and rickety old sleighs! Our cargo planes are the fastest in the world. Forget sliding down musty old chimneys! Our delivery men are trained to be cordial, prompt, and trained to defeat hum bugs in a single blow, without even needing to refuel with cookies and milk!<br />
<br />
Instead of frantically attempting to make it around the world in a single night, you, Mr. Claus, will be able to sit back in the comfort of your own northern home with your lovely wife while my men do all your work for you. Toys 4 You is there for you, through sleet and snow and the infinite legions of Jack Frost's army! That is the Toys 4 You guarantee!<br />
<br />
So, Mr. Claus, what do you say?<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
- Sincerely, <br />
Gregori White<br />
CEO , Toys 4 You</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
***</div>
Sitting his glasses down on his side table, Santa pinched the bridge of nose and shook his head. Grumbling under his breath, he picked up his mobile and dialed the factory office. <br />
<br />
"Santa's Toys! Jolly Cheerson speaking!" <br />
<br />
"Jolly, it's me. Can you send someone down to my house?"<br />
<br />
"Oh, of course Mr. Claus! I'll send someone right away! Which department?"<br />
<br />
"Lists. I have someone that needs to be added to the 'Naughty' one."<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11610184057896951494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4598346008115670230.post-38740387328340925352011-12-14T23:20:00.000-05:002011-12-17T23:39:25.400-05:00Review: "Clockwork Prince" by Cassandra Clare<b>Warning: </b>This review may contain <span style="color: #cc0000;">spoilers. </span><br />
<br />
Holy crap. This has been sitting in my room, in an Amazon box, waiting for me to get home from college and tear it open for a week. And it was <i>so</i> worth all the longing and impatience. <br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvqFZuPJUdjWY6aNnOXBP6UOC9kSZ1dqEnvb1BqGg8Fe0m-ooZI4xyvi2E8PpkTaq5KF-94nJzELVOPjkU1h0ZSl1Qn8ArRGik2JJF_oL0LmbYK5GWLFgB8Dqu8kQlNtckObBVxzOgbulE/s1600/27009.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvqFZuPJUdjWY6aNnOXBP6UOC9kSZ1dqEnvb1BqGg8Fe0m-ooZI4xyvi2E8PpkTaq5KF-94nJzELVOPjkU1h0ZSl1Qn8ArRGik2JJF_oL0LmbYK5GWLFgB8Dqu8kQlNtckObBVxzOgbulE/s320/27009.jpg" width="210" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><u>Clockwork Prince</u>, <i>Infernal Devices #2 </i><br />
<i>Available on <a href="http://www.google.com/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=web&cd=1&ved=0CEcQFjAA&url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.amazon.com%2FClockwork-Prince-Infernal-Devices-Cassandra%2Fdp%2F1416975888&ei=5XTpTuKVKMmztwfe-Yxq&usg=AFQjCNGkgkiQHXSKSh7fXXUf8tHfY3WcIg&sig2=rHJ9JdLp7cYu_InY3FIx6A">Amazon</a> for $11.09</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
My first impressions?<br />
<br />
This is a <i>thousand</i> times better than the first book of the <b>Infernal Devices</b> series (<u>Clockwork Angel</u>). I mean, it was just <i>that</i> good.<br />
<br />
I've been a fan of Clare for a while now. She doesn't take herself too seriously, slipping in as much sarcasm and humor as writer-ly possible. And I like that in an author. It makes her characterization far more natural, in my opinion.<br />
<br />
But this? This is taking it to a whole new level. <br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
<br />
Firstly, there was just <i>so much</i> going on in this book. And yet it was pulled off perfectly. The POV shifts, the multitude of subplots... they all played together perfectly to create one hell of a good story. The plot of this book was much thicker, and it ramped up the complexity of the whole Mortmain scheme, as well as the stakes.<br />
<br />
There were a lot more characters that got hurt here (with a sharp focus on <i>mentally/emotionally)</i>, and a lot more that could have. There was a tension present throughout the entire novel (one of <i>many</i>) that made you feel like the clock was ticking down for the protagonists. And yet, like usual, Clare both resolved that tension <i>and</i> pulled off another spectacular (and <i>totally unexpected</i>) ending. <br />
<br />
The dynamics between Will and Jem, were, for lack of a better word, beautiful. How Clare so gracefully depicted the stark contrast between their deep bond versus their many degrees of separation was simply astounding. And with Tessa added to the equation, there was a constant fear that at any second, that beautiful relationship would just <i>shatter</i>. Just like that.<br />
<br />
Ah, and Tessa. I liked her far better in this installment. Her confusion over her feelings for Will and Jem <i>was</i> mildly annoying at times, but I feel she's become a much better developed character since <u>Clockwork Angel</u>. She took on risks I never could have imagined her doing in the previous novel, and I was shocked at the decision she makes near the end.<br />
<br />
But it wasn't only Tessa's development that got me here. Clare developed so many characters in this book. So many. I particularly liked the development of Sophie and was pleasantly surprised at Clare's focus of her.<br />
<br />
And then there were the <i>new</i> characters. There were quite a few minor character introductions in this one, and I have to say that I enjoyed every single one of them. But I won't spoil them for you. Though I will say we finally meet someone who has piqued my interest since the third <b>Mortal Instruments<i> </i></b>book.<br />
<br />
I think my favorite thing about <u>Clockwork Prince</u><i>, </i>however, is Will. The sheer amount he changes in this book amazed me. And horrified me. And saddened me. Why? Well, you'll have to read it to find out the particulars yourself, but I will tell you that his part in this book is <i>absolutely heartbreaking.</i> There are a lot of characters that garnered my pity in this book. But none more so than Will.<br />
<br />
Just, ah, wow. I'm almost afraid to see what happens to him in the next book.<br />
<br />
Anyway, my overall impression should be quite clear: <b>Buy <u>Clockwork Prince</u>. Read it. Now.</b><br />
<b><u> </u></b><br />
Seriously. I mean it.<br />
<br />
If you're not convinced yet, may I enlighten you to my other major highlight?<br />
<br />
Magnus Bane.<br />
<br />
Oh, yes. Magnus. What Clare book is complete without Magnus? None of them, I say! He plays a particularly important role in this story, and like usual, is <i>glorious</i> at it. <br />
<br />
Anyway, you should seriously read <u>Clockwork Prince</u> (while I impatiently wait the release of <u>Clockwork Princess</u>.)<br />
<br />
<b>Overall Grade: <span style="color: #6aa84f;">A</span><span style="color: #6aa84f;"> </span></b>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11610184057896951494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4598346008115670230.post-5466922695521477702011-12-10T01:43:00.001-05:002011-12-10T20:31:09.173-05:00Poetry: CreativityI ponder the ineptitude of a single blade of grass<br />
To do much more than flutter in the drifts of blusters past<br />
I ponder the inability of the small to do the large<br />
Then I realize that the singular is not what is in charge<br />
<br />
I ponder the creation of a trillion blades of grass<br />
That flutter like a fury in the blusters of the past<br />
I ponder my ability to lie within them, staring high<br />
As each blades cuts my face with a sensation of the sky<br />
<br />
I ponder the enormity of the earth, the sun, the stars<br />
That shift upon their axes, drifting in an endless tar<br />
I ponder the existence of that single grain of sand<br />
How a number countless by my mind can make it ever grand<br />
<br />
I ponder the sheer ignorance of the people on the Earth<br />
Who go about their days as if their lives are not a search<br />
I ponder the ideas of life with meaning and without<br />
And as each answers rolls me by, I then begin to doubt<br />
<br />
I ponder the meaning of it all, the grass, the Earth, the stars<br />
And I begin to think of worlds beyond them, a never-ending far<br />
I ponder how these worlds begin their journeys in my mind<br />
And I realize that throughout my life, they have always been mine<br />
<br />
I ponder the adeptness of my mind to craft a space<br />
Where a million shards of something great can be so wholly traced<br />
I ponder this great something, this universe of false and fact<br />
Wherein my ideas can curve and stretch into faces so intact<br />
<br />
I ponder then these faces that emerge from the dark depths<br />
That fight monsters human, other, more with skills beyond adept<br />
I ponder their emotions that are so far beyond my own<br />
And I wonder how these people live, who inhabit my mental home<br />
<br />
I ponder then the reality outside the realm within my mind<br />
And I come to believe that this was destined to all exist in time <br />
I ponder both my skill and curse to see both false and real<br />
And without concern for me or my, I leave it unconcealed<br />
<br />
I ponder the inability of the many to see my seeing way<br />
And I wonder how humanity came to be so dull and gray<br />
I ponder how my single life, the grain of sand I am<br />
Can lift the world back up again, with creativity in hand<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<i>Posted to <a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_281654844">dVerse</a></i><a href="http://dversepoets.com/"> </a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11610184057896951494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4598346008115670230.post-21122629558276678682011-12-05T11:29:00.001-05:002011-12-07T02:01:51.261-05:00Novel: The Bombardiers (Excerpts Part 2)!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgH4xOpcN6SwUedYjRJcPm23Zmvu2F_j8QkWLT7R3eOhExAeom7K3C9GiJczxLmQQEKVdLWU4eGbQFtHHkbbfnfKJM2oyzl70Fb9fC2V-9WPLRN0_nS7_uRKRxOe7e8Oui_RX_oZ3JAPuW/s1600/cover9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgH4xOpcN6SwUedYjRJcPm23Zmvu2F_j8QkWLT7R3eOhExAeom7K3C9GiJczxLmQQEKVdLWU4eGbQFtHHkbbfnfKJM2oyzl70Fb9fC2V-9WPLRN0_nS7_uRKRxOe7e8Oui_RX_oZ3JAPuW/s320/cover9.jpg" width="212" /></a></div>
Hey, guys. Sorry I vanished on you all. It's finals time, you know? Had to write a paper and then get all my notes organized and write everything down. Ugh! I hate finals. Anyway, I thought I'd stop by today for some more excerpts from <u>The Bombardiers</u>.<br />
<br />
Do remember, these excerpts are from my first draft, so expect lots of typos and a shaky style and way too much introspection. I'll fix that stuff the second time around. xD<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<b style="color: #cc0000;">Warning:</b><span style="color: #cc0000;"> </span>Some of the content is rather graphic. And there's some strong language. You have been warned!<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="color: black; text-align: center;">
<br />
<a name='more'></a>_________</div>
<div style="color: black; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: black; text-align: left;">
<i>From <u>The Bombardiers</u></i>, <i>Chapter 4-- </i><br />
<i><br /></i><br />
<i> </i></div>
<div style="color: black; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div style="color: black; text-align: left;">
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His eyes fell back
on the woman in front of him. She definitely wasn’t the one who’d saved him, so
that meant this operation was run by more than person? An organization of some
sort? And if this was some kind of group effort, then what were its goals? A
coup? Simply getting the truth out? Was that what <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Xi</i> was? Some kind of revolutionary group that new the truth? He
could have speculated about it all day. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“You know, you <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">could</i> just stare at me forever, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">or</i> you could actually ask me whatever
you’re thinking about.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Or, there was
that. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“Oh, um, sorry. I
just…I don’t play well with others usually. It’s not about you, really. I
just…”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“Can’t trust
anyone?” The woman reseated herself. “I know the feeling, though I don’t guess
I’m as familiar with it as you.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Ganth stiffened.
“And what do you know about me?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
The woman frowned,
her eyes filling with pity. “Only what Xi told me. Your parents were erased
when you were eleven, right? But you didn’t have you memories of them changed like
you were supposed to. Xi said your health chip…well, it’s not actually a health
chip, obviously, is defective, but no one ever caught on to it, so you stayed
under the radar this whole time.” She smiled sardonically. “Until last night, I
guess. But it just happens that way, doesn’t it? One second you’re going about
your daily routine, and the next moment the black van pulls up to take you away.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“You too, huh?” So
that <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">did</i> happen to everyone. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“Yep. Xi says
that’s how they do it. That that’s how they’ve always done it. The AJA is split
into two divisions. A virtual army of men who go around and kidnap designated
targets and another that works tirelessly to erase or alter the memories of
everyone involved with that person.” She wrung her hands. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Ganth eyed the
woman carefully. She didn’t exactly look like a big time crime boss, and he
wasn’t sure he wanted to test her feelings. She looked like she was about to
fall apart right in front of him.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“You want to know what
I did, right?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
And yet, she was
incredibly perceptive, all the same. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“I’m guessing it
wasn’t something that would normally be considered a crime?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
The woman snorted.
“Actually, it’s kind of funny. It <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">was</i>
a crime, but it wasn’t intentional. Sat down at a desk I was told to sit down
at, put on a flash visor I was supposed to put on…ended up overhearing two of
the Prime Executives talking about Xi.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Ganth cringed.
“I…” He coughed. “I’m sorry.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
The woman smiled
bitterly. “Yeah, me too.” A second later she was up and about, her movements
fast and jerky. She picked up a tray of food and brought it over to the bed.
“So, um, I fixed you some soup and stuff. Xi said you should probably keep the
food light until she wanes you off the meds. Got you on some pretty strong
ones, I guess. It took about twelve hours for her to put you back together
again. You were in pretty bad shape.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Ganth nodded
absently. “So, who is this Xi exactly?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
The woman raised
an eyebrow, as if it was stupidest question in the world. “Didn’t you see her?
I mean, she said you were awake when she picked you up.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“So, the other
woman is Xi? The one with the twisted sense of humor?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
The woman bit back
a laugh. “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">That’s</i> all you got out of
your first encounter with Xi?” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“Well, I was in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">pieces</i> and paralyzed at the time.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“So was I.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Ganth couldn’t
think of a reply to that. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“Anyway,” the
woman swiftly changed the subject, “I haven’t told you my name yet, right?” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
He shook his head.
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“Well, I’m Sara.
Sara Miller. Not very interesting, I’m afraid. And Xi said you go by Ganth?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Ganth frowned
thoughtfully. “Well, yes, I do, but I why you keep saying that?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“Saying what?” She
wrung her hands again.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“Xi said?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“Oh…that…” A light
blush came over her cheeks. “Well, that’s just because I’m never sure if Xi is
actually telling the me the truth or just trying to screw with me.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Ganth stared into
his soup. “Oh.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“Yeah…”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“Honeys, I’m
home!” The words echoed through the house, and Ganth jumped, grimacing as
another wave of pain rolled down his torso. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“Oh, joy, the
happy parade is back.” Sara mumbled.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
A fridge door
slammed shut somewhere. “I heard that, Miss Sara Miller! And I will have you
know I hate parades!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Ganth looked on in
disbelief. “Don’t tell me that’s…”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
She appeared in
the doorway. “Mr. Richard Ganth! How nice of you to joy us in the living world
again! I was <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">almost</i> afraid we were
going to lose you. Almost afraid because I’m never certainly afraid of anything at
all, of course. Anyway, how’re your toes feelings? I had to reattach quite a
few.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Correction: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Xi</i> appeared in the doorway. </div>
<div style="color: black; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: black; text-align: center;">
_________</div>
<div style="color: black; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: black; text-align: left;">
<i>From <u>The Bombardiers</u>, Chapter 6--</i><br />
<i> </i> </div>
<div style="color: black; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="color: black; text-align: center;">
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Xi didn’t move.
She let Sara’s absolute horror sink in for a few more seconds, and even when
Sara lunged at her, throwing the hardest (yet so weak) punch she could at
Xi’s face, Xi didn’t even twitch. A few seconds later, Sara cracked, and she
sank to her knees, sobbing. “Why are you doing this? That woman is getting <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">raped</i>! People are getting killed! Why
won’t you do anything?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“This isn’t my
fault, Sara Miller. In fact, if you had things your way, this would be reality
for Altea every day.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“W...what?” She
gazed up at Xi. “This isn’t…this isn’t what I…” Her words died on her lips. And
she understood.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Xi hadn’t just
disrupted the erasure program. She’d also utilized it. To implant the knowledge
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">of</i> it into the minds of every single
Altean citizen. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
And this was the
result. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Absolute and utter
chaos. The complete breakdown of society in the span of minutes. In a second,
all of Altea had learned of the Executive’s lie, all of Altea had learned it
had been living false lives, all of Altea had seen the nation for what it was.
And all of Altea was enraged. The crime that happened normally and was covered
up had been far overshadowed by the senseless rage of millions of people.
Without the experience of crime in their memories, they didn’t know how to
handle the information. Alteans did not lobby for change. There <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">were</i> no social issues. Alteans did not
look to policemen for safety and guidance. There <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">was</i> no crime. Alteans did not lock their doors and hide nor did
they ban together for a common cause. Those were reactions to revolution, and
there <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">was</i> no revolution in Altea. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Until now. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
It had probably
started with one or two or three, Ganth imagined. A few people witnessing a few
crimes and realizing that the doubts they suddenly found themselves having
about the Executives and AJA were, in fact, truth. Then came the horror of that
one or those two or those three. And from them, it multiplied. It increased
exponentially, a wave of irrationality and paranoia and horror and angry that
had quickly morphed into complete social collapse. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
And where was the
isolation to slow it down?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Altea was an
artificial island. The furthest town from the capital was a half an hour away
by train. This wave of unadulterated chaos had spread across the nation like a
wildfire, devouring all hopes and securities in its path in the span of
minutes. And then, there was no Altea. There was just <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">this.</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
And if the erasure
program had become public knowledge this way, suddenly and abruptly and to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">everyone</i> at once, this is exactly what
would happen.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
And every death,
every rape, every theft, every horror…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
This was to teach
Sara a lesson.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Because Sara had
dared to ask “Why not tell them?” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
And this was Xi’s
example of a hard, cold lesson that taught that answer in the most direct way
possible. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Ganth closed his
eyes and bit his bottom lip. Today, he had learned something as well. He had
known that something <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">like</i> this would
happen if the erasure program became public, but he had not dared to imagine
the sheer horror of it all. No, that wasn’t what he’d learned. Today, Richard
Ganth had learned what kind of person Xi was. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Merciless. Cold.
Unforgiving. And genius. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
And that, quite
possibly, made her the most dangerous person alive. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
And it was through
this thought that Ganth finally came to understand what Xi was actually doing.
“Xi, you…”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
This was not a
game being played.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;">
“Sweetie
pie, they cost themselves this fight the day they made me what I am. And rest assured, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I</i> will not rest until I make sure they know it.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;">
This
was a game that had already been played. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“Sara Miller!” Xi
towered over her. “This is not what I want. I do not want absolute
destruction of the people, merely their restructuring into something akin to a <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">real</i> society, with all its natural
flaws. Altea is an artificial place, built upon lofty ideals that have been
implemented. And that is the worst possible thing you can to with an ideal. An
ideal should always be a unreachable goal. To institute one into practice is
abhorrent. To utilize one in the way Altea has is the greatest sin any group of
human beings has ever committed. And I intend to wipe clean this sin off the
hands of those innocent people down there. And I will use the blood of its very
perpetrators to do so. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">This</i>, Sara
Miller, is what would happen if everyone suddenly discovered the erasure. And
do not mistake me. I am not claiming a similar event will not take place once
the Executives fall. But it will not be <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">this</i>.
It will not be this sudden release of all human fallacy and error. It will be
hampered by pain and disappointment, fueled by sadness in place of undivided
rage. And thus, it will retreat upon itself and lick its own wounds and heal
with a nasty scar and move on, assimilating into the kind of society that it
should have always existed in.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
This was a game
that had already been won. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Sara, looking
scarily close to passing out, muttered weakly, “But how do you <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">know</i> that?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Xi’s only response
was her too-wide wicked grin, the widening of her too-bright green eyes, and:
“Because I’m Xi.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
And Xi was the
victor. </div>
<div style="color: black; text-align: center;">
_________</div>
<div style="color: black; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: black; text-align: left;">
<i>From <u>The Bombardiers</u>, Chapter 9--</i> </div>
<div style="color: black; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
A low snicker
sounded through his speaker. “Oh my, Norton Sater. You’ve either become much a
braver or a much <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">angrier</i> person than
you were since I last saw you. But, regardless of which, you are quite right.
I’ve been watching your progress quite closely, and I must say, I’m impressed.
Most of the AJA’s new hires end up erased themselves within a week, cracking
under the stress, letting the big secret slip out to their families or friends.
But <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">you</i>, with no friends and no
family you <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">want</i> to talk to, you’ve
managed to stay at least <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">partially</i>
sane, eh?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“Partially,” he
repeated hollowly. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“Mhmm, but now
you’re reaching your wit’s end, and you’ve finally realized that you have no
one else to turn to but me. Isn't that right?” She chuckled again.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“Can you just get
to the point? What is it you want me to do?” His voice started to strain. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“Actually, I want
you to do exactly what you’ve been doing, at least for the time being. I
suspect <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">something</i> is going to come up
soon that requires my attention at the AJA, and I’d like to have someone on the
inside to monitor the situation.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
He growled. “You
mean you want me to keep going back to that place and killing people? Is that
it?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“Honey,” she
drawled, “don’t be like that. You know yourself that blowing your cover at this
point will gain you nothing. You’ve learned some stuff about the AJA, sure, but
it’s nothing I don’t already know. Instead of complaining about it, just stay
attentive.” She sighed. “Look, I didn’t contact you because I explicitly <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">need</i> you. I contacted you because you’re
smart and because I knew <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">you</i> could
make my job easier. I want to take the AJA down <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">more</i> than you do, honey, believe me. But this has to be done
carefully and in steps. In order to dismantle them piece by piece and destroy
any chance of their regime’s ideals ever relapsing in Altea again, they must be
eradicated completely. And doing this <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">messily</i>,
just going in guns blazing, is <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">not</i>
the way to ensure that happens. Understand?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Norton rested his
head on the sofa cushion. “Yes,” he answered coldly, “I understand. But you do
realize that I myself <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">am one of them</i>,
and that everyday I go back there is another day I wrack up a higher body
count?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“Of course I know
that, sweetie. But I also know that you can handle it where others can’t. Because
your sense of justice trumps your sense of self-respect, doesn’t it, Norton
Sater?” He could <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">hear</i> the arrogance
seeping through the speaker, but he couldn’t deny her claims. She <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">knew</i> him. She’d <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">studied</i> him. Well.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“You could say
that, sure. But let me make something clear to you. You are going to explain
your plan in full to me. You are going to tell me everything I need to know.
You will leave nothing out, do you understand me? If you deceive me in any way,
so help me I will—”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“Yes, yes! Norton
Sater. I would <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">never</i> lie to a comrade
of mine. Ever. And as soon as this… <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">situation</i>
develops that I expect to develop soon, I <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">will</i> fill you in on everything. Until then, just sit tight and keep
yourself out of the spotlight. Clear?” The last word rolled silkily off her
tongue. “Oh, and in case you were wondering, the AJA has yet to discover I
removed your cameras. Quite lazy, they are. I’ve got their feeds jacked to show
randomized videos of you doing incredibly mundane things. It’s quite amusing,
actually. By the way, how’s your arm?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
He frowned. “Oh,
you’ll follow me around at the AJA but not the hospital? That’s comforting.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
She giggled.
“Well, gee, Norton Sater. If you’d like, I can follow your every move. But I
was kind of impression that people enjoyed some sense of privacy.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
He snorted.
“Right, because you know <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">all</i> about
respecting privacy.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“Ah, it appears I
have met my match of wits. Very well, then, Norton Sater. The game is <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">on</i>. We <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">will</i> continue this enthralling discussion later. Until then, you know
what to do, yes?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“Keep calm. Lie
low. Gather all the intel I can.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“Exactly! See, now
why can’t Miss Sara Miller be as cooperative as you?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“Uh, who?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“Bye, bye, Norton!
I’ll call you later, okay, sweetie pie?” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
She hung up. </div>
<div style="color: black; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: black; text-align: center;">
_________</div>
<div style="color: black; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="color: black; text-align: left;">
<i>From <u>The Bombardiers</u>, Chapter 11</i>--</div>
<div style="color: black; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“Three.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Just like tossing
a flash grenade. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%;">
“Two.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Except flash
grenades didn’t kill people.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“One.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
He jammed his
thumb down on the button, and the needle—all <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">twelve</i> centimeters of it—whisked up with a sickening squelch. He
threw the thing as hard as he could, and it landed on the opposite side of the
garage, shattering on impact. He searched desperately for any change in Sara’s
state, but he saw none. Her usually expressive brown eyes were staring blankly
at the ceiling, and her body made no movements except besides the automatic rise
and fall of her chest.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“Damn it all. Just
damn it all!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
The time came back
to him then. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
It <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">had</i> to have been more than ten minutes,
right? So where was Xi? Was her big finale just the lockdown, or…? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
A rumbling filled
his ears as if on cue, and he shifted himself around the support beam, holding
Sara close to his chest, and realigned his vision the with AJA Building just in
time.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Just in time to
watch a massive wall of flame blow out of the center floor. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
And then the
building exploded. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Floor after floor
after floor, it went up in a magnificent plume of red and orange that
illuminated the night with a glow so much more devious than the lockdown lights
that he wondered idly how he could have ever thought <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">they </i>were dangerous. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">This</i>
was danger. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">This </i>was death. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">This</i> was Xi. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
There wasn’t a
single person inside that building left alive. There was no way. There was
nothing left <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">of</i> the building. There
couldn’t have been. A frame of twisted metal was all that remained, and was
quickly collapsing in the heat of the flames. Debris rained down from every
angle, pieces of desks and chairs and shards of window glass and carpet and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">people’s body parts</i>, charred beyond
recognition. All those thousand dari flash screens, gone. All those erasure
servers, gone. All their work stations, gone. All their arrogance and
haughtiness and superiority…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Gone. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
The debris field
burst into the tower, and Ganth flinched away from the heat and smoke and
thick, choking particles. He pulled Sara closer against him. He needed to get
out of here. Pulling himself to his haggard feet, he made his way toward the
opposite end of the garage, trying to breathe in as little of the air as
possible. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
He could hear the
sirens already, the beating of the blades of a legion of helicopters. There
would be people soon, too, and he didn’t want to get caught up in that mess. He
made his way quickly out the back and took off toward the residential street. Once
he’d secured himself away in an alley, away from prying eyes, he waited. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
For Xi.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Hopefully, for Xi.
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Xi <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">had</i> gotten out of that building before
it exploded, right? He hadn’t seen her, but she wouldn’t have just let herself
get blown up. Would she? This wasn’t her end game. She was smarter than that.
Unless… unless this hadn’t been <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">her</i>
plan at all. What if Sara’s kidnapping had just been a ploy to off Xi? What if
the AJA had actually been <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">ahead</i> of
them? What if…? He closed his eyes and groaned in frustration.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“Damn it, Xi!” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; line-height: 150%; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“What did <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I</i> do?” </div>
<div style="color: black; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: black; text-align: center;">
_________ </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Well, that's all for now, folks! Enjoyable, I hope? If you have any comments or concerns, please feel free to comment! ^_^ </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11610184057896951494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4598346008115670230.post-35605132343183454952011-11-20T20:47:00.001-05:002011-11-21T21:42:34.743-05:00Novel: The SolutionistsSo, for the first time ever, I actually got inspiration for a new book from a dream. I had an awesome dream this morning, and it gave me all these great ideas for a novel to add to my WIP list. Here's the makeshift cover and (a really long) synopsis.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMrhalmEq4b5RKpjBekZk6ZZzU81J8RoKeUQbs_cfcRhZV9ftmw2KG4eDaG6oLi0ksmZSZWxOeOikmqUxeDnAZ-77-wmZEMh89PMpUlrGmayDqJZEBwcPLiV1grJPBSNtRif_Egw4Kgp8w/s1600/cover1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMrhalmEq4b5RKpjBekZk6ZZzU81J8RoKeUQbs_cfcRhZV9ftmw2KG4eDaG6oLi0ksmZSZWxOeOikmqUxeDnAZ-77-wmZEMh89PMpUlrGmayDqJZEBwcPLiV1grJPBSNtRif_Egw4Kgp8w/s400/cover1.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
For the last two thousand years, they have existed in the shadows, carefully guiding humanity in their desired direction. Using devices that defy time and space, they have weaved their designs into the leaders of human kind, using their skills and knowledge to remain only as figments of the human imagination. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
The year is 2034. With overpopulation, pollution, and greed threatening to devour the Earth, there seems to be little hope that the leaders of the world will unite to bring about change. But <i>they</i> deem it necessary, and thus, <i>they</i> will make it happen, no matter who they must bend to their wills in the process. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
But when when one of their "clients" is found dead, they begin to suspect a spy has infiltrated their ranks. Calling upon their best and brightest, they create a task force bent on rooting out the corruption they fear has bloomed amongst them. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
But when <i>they</i> cannot trust themselves to do what is right for the Earth, how can they continue to do their duty to the planet? With war brewing on the horizon and the Earth quickly beginning to fall under the weight of the scourge that humanity has become, time is quickly running out. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
_____ </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Warren Devonair, a Twister with a flawless record, finds himself called before the Grand Architects and given the order to lead the Inquisition task force. Forced to work side by side with the person he hates the most and stuck at the helm of a duty he <i>cannot</i> fail at, Warren finds the careful facade he's worn all his life begin to fall apart. And if he can't keep it together, his job, his life, and the world may just fall with him. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Salen Burrick, a former criminal lawyer, now lives his life in the lowest periphery of society. He hasn't shown his face to his family in years. He left his practice without even a goodbye. But what could have possibly made a successful, happy man abandon his life? <i>They</i> did. He's always seen them, skirting around rooms like shadows, moving more quickly than any human being should move, whispering in the ears of people that never knew they were there. But Salen knows they're there. And he also knows what <i>they</i> don't. That there are <i>other</i> things there too. Things that no one sees but him. Things that gnaw right into people's souls and eat their minds alive. Things that should not exist but do. And Salen is entirely convinced that <i>they</i> are the reason these things are here, the reason these things broke him into a thousand pieces. And even if it takes him a lifetime, he will destroy <i>them</i> like they destroyed him. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Mona Clarkson had a life one time. It consisted of a loving fiance, a full scholarship to a prestigious university, and a caring family. But after her fiance abruptly left her to pursue a "more important" political career, the rest of her life seemed to leave with him. Now working hard to make ends meet and close to failing out of school, Mona's life is further destroyed by a pregnancy of mysterious origins. On the verge of an emotional breakdown, she forces herself to leave the home she's always known in the hope of starting a new (and better) one somewhere else. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
But there are many things in life that follow you until death. And Mona, Warren, and Salen are beginning to realize that.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
_____ </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
They have stopped the world from falling apart for two thousand years. They have protected the collective knowledge of humanity for even longer. They have ended wars and created countries. They have started wars and destroyed kingdoms. And everything that they have done has saved the world.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
They have always had all the answers.<br />
<br />
They have always had all the power.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
They have always been The Solutionists. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
But nothing lasts forever.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11610184057896951494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4598346008115670230.post-65518725068236912112011-11-19T16:01:00.001-05:002011-11-19T20:24:53.492-05:00Poetry: Circadian<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Up at the top of the hour of the night</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Lost in the movement of a thousand lights</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I walked through the sands of a thousand times</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Lost in the winds of the infinite rhymes</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Up at the peak of the mountain of gold</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Lost in the beats of the heart, thousand fold</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I walked through the snow of a thousand years</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Lost in the winds of the infinite fears</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Up at the hills of the pastures of old</div>
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Lost in the sounds of past battles foretold</div>
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I walked though the grass of a thousand hearts</div>
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Lost in the strokes of the infinite arts</div>
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Up at the edge of the end of the Earth</div>
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Lost in the knowledge of which I searched</div>
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I walked through the waters of a thousand deaths</div>
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Lost in the echoes of the infinite jest </div>
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Up then at the edge of the end of the Earth</div>
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Lost in the knowledge of which I searched</div>
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I could not walk further through any more death</div>
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So I un-lost myself from the infinite jest</div>
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Up at the hills of the pastures of old</div>
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Un-lost in the sounds of past battles foretold</div>
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I walked back through the grass of those thousand hearts</div>
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And I marked them with kindness of only one art</div>
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Up again at the peak of the mountain of gold</div>
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Touching only the hearts of which I could hold</div>
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I walked past the snows of just a few years</div>
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And assuaged only a few of the infinite fears</div>
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Up at the top of the hour of the night</div>
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Now seeing clearly through a thousand lights</div>
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I washed the sands with water until they were still</div>
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And wrote in them rhymes of the gentlest wills</div>
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Up now at the roof of the house where I live</div>
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Un-lost in the life to which work I now give</div>
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I walk across shingles, a hundred or so</div>
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At home in the life I have now come to know</div>
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Posted to <a href="http://dversepoets.com/">dVerse </a></div>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11610184057896951494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4598346008115670230.post-74524305114719465632011-11-18T22:24:00.001-05:002011-11-19T00:01:32.406-05:00On Writing: Characters, or the People in my Head<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMzpYOpMJSgbaSn-QsS_BapKEF3XYpdjBY1xy1bjG2s8z7rrW1TUPA248WNs6YYpWtY_bVN3HoDJ5S0AapY7_v_K6NbQEO4-Qu8EBinXo8vD6vTrzHWO5_pz0qmFI4T5rVaDDV3onydPd6/s1600/AmericaNuclear+2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMzpYOpMJSgbaSn-QsS_BapKEF3XYpdjBY1xy1bjG2s8z7rrW1TUPA248WNs6YYpWtY_bVN3HoDJ5S0AapY7_v_K6NbQEO4-Qu8EBinXo8vD6vTrzHWO5_pz0qmFI4T5rVaDDV3onydPd6/s400/AmericaNuclear+2.jpeg" width="286" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Yes, I drew that.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
The most integral part of any story tends to be the characters in it. Whether fate acts upon them or they upon fate, it seems unlikely that a reader would truly connect to any story line without their presence. They are the links from the real to the imaginary, the pathway by which we come to understand the wealth and feelings that exist within a realm not entirely our own.<br />
<br />
And yet, no one can seem to agree on exactly <i>what</i> they are.<br />
<br />
What is a character to you?<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a><br /><br />
I've heard that question answered a thousand different ways. I've frequently heard assertions that characters are no more than tools, cardboard cutouts to which a writer appends relatable features and emotions. I've heard many assertions that this is the <i>only</i> good way to think of a character, and that it is foolish to think of them as anything else.<br />
<br />
I assert that those people are wrong.<br />
<br />
Perhaps for <i>some</i> writers, characters as tools <i>is</i> the best way to go. But not for me. To cheapen my imaginings to such an extent would be an affront to my mind, and I'm certainly not one to hamper my own ability to create ideas. To me, characters give me the ability to explore the psyche of people I cannot possibly deconstruct in real life.<br />
<br />
Are my psychological dissections always accurate? Of course not. But then you have to realize that there is no human being on this planet that is one and the same with any other, no matter how similar, so "accuracy" is terms of a person's exact psychological profile is a bit of a defunct idea, no?<br />
<br />
But crafting a believable mind and personality is only one part of the reason I like to consider my characters something more. When it comes down to it, cardboard people can only produce a cardboard world, and I am not a writer of cardboard worlds. I am an interpreter of vast imagined places, from which I relay relevant and exciting information.<br />
<br />
Nothing I ever write will be complete in the sense that it conveys an entire universe. Never. My writings are no more than particular bits and pieces that I have selected from a place of endless actions and relationships. What you will see of, say, <u>The Bombardiers</u> is the key parts of Xi, Sara, Ganth, and Norton's lives, but what about the rest? Do you honestly think I didn't walk through each year, each moment, each relationship? Sara's lost fiance exists in only the barest periphery of the story, but do you think I just gave him a name and left it at that?<br />
<br />
Every universe in my head is perpetually expanding. Universes whose stories I haven't even drawn from yet are still rapidly forming in my head right now. I've got fragments of the <u>Stolen</u> universe swirling around in my head at the exact moment I'm writing this. But you don't know what that is, do you?<br />
<br />
Well, of course not. I haven't you told about that universe. And you won't know until I do. But I assure you that when I do, and I will, mind you, I will introduce to characters who are wholly representative of people, whose thoughts and feelings and relationships could be just as real as any living person's.<br />
<br />
But why put <i>all that effort</i> into it, you ask?<br />
<br />
Well, see, that's the thing. I'm <i>not</i>. This is how my mind naturally works. I talk extensively about this in my previous <i>On Writing</i> post, <i><a href="http://windowwhispers.blogspot.com/2011/10/on-writing-omnipresent-muse.html">The Omnipresent Muse</a>. </i>Do you really think I sit here all day in my chair carefully working out each little quirk and each little tone and each little freckle just to make my characters <i>seem</i> like real people?<br />
<br />
No, I don't. Because that would be silly and pointless.<br />
<br />
They just <i>are</i>. They're just <i>there</i>. And since they are already there, prepackaged not as blank cardboard cutouts onto which I draw a few defining features but as living, breathing people who exist in a world of my mind's imagination<i> </i>that could very well replace our own as the one which <i>actually</i> exists, please explain to me why on Earth I would utilize them as anything else?<br />
<br />
But, but <i>to each his own</i>. Some writers don't have entire universes taking residence in their minds, and I know this quite well. My point is not to claim any writer inadequate, merely to expand the horizons of the concept of the "character."<br />
<br />
So I should get on with that, yeah?<br />
<br />
<i>Anyway</i>, point is: characters are created differently by each writer. There is no standard method, no standard traits they must have or not have, no standard mental profile. Just as every person is different, so is the creation of every character. I preach for not a <i>standard</i> but the lack of one. I cringe when I see new writers asking <i>how</i> create characters and other responding with the "normal" answers.<br />
<br />
There is <i>no normal</i>, people. Not in writing. Not in people. Not on Earth. Nowhere. So please, please, please <i>don't</i> try to fit your methods of imagination and writing into some sort of "normal process." When it comes to being a writer, I feel that one of the worst things to do is to limit the way you create.<br />
<br />
So don't do it, pretty please?<br />
<br />
You're characters are your own, whether you want to make them as cardboard cutouts, mannequins, paper children, actors in cosplay, or living people [or the living dead (and I suppose animals and plants count too; let me know how that works for you?)].<br />
<br />
If you still haven't caught my drift: <b>Create characters your <i>own</i> way<i>. </i>Only you can know how you best create characters<i>. </i>And whatever you do, don't let anyone convince you otherwise<i>.</i></b><br />
<br />
Anyway, I'm interested to know: <b>How do you personally create characters?<i> </i> </b>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11610184057896951494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4598346008115670230.post-3116000837890102952011-11-15T11:48:00.001-05:002011-11-15T18:38:02.831-05:00Poetry: The MantelpieceOn my mantelpiece, there was a clock<br />
It ticked, it ticked, it ticked, it tocked<br />
I watched, I watched, I waited some<br />
As if my clock could raise the sun<br />
And with each tick, my clock did crack<br />
Its face shattered into my back<br />
And yet, not a single drop of blood<br />
Instead, a blackness thick as mud<br />
<br />
On my mantelpiece, there was a child<br />
A cherub grinning at his wiles<br />
He watched me close with a chipped white eye<br />
And laughed at me when I passed by<br />
And daily I passed by in deep despair<br />
Blocking out my world without a care<br />
But that cherub once never did cease<br />
He would not let me die in peace<br />
<br />
On my mantelpiece, there was a frame<br />
And within, my world was thus contained<br />
It held all my life's hopes, my joys<br />
It held my heartbeat's tender noise<br />
And once upon a lonely day<br />
I knocked the frame from its sacred stay<br />
It cracked my floor, it cracked its face<br />
And with it cracked my sacred place<br />
<br />
On my mantelpiece, there was a ring<br />
Left floating on a lone unpolished string<br />
It hovered so dangerously over the floor<br />
And once, I realized it was no more<br />
I searched, I searched, I searched and failed<br />
My hopes were dashed, and thus, I wailed<br />
And yet, despite my darkest cries<br />
The world would not release my life<br />
<br />
On my mantelpiece, there was a knife<br />
Carved carefully with a skilled man's strife<br />
He worked its blade to the perfect state<br />
And its purpose was never a debate<br />
So without my heart, my blood, my place<br />
I took it from its sheath, it's state of grace<br />
And with no care for the world I knew<br />
It was my own life that I then slew<br />
<br />
On my mantelpiece, there is a painting<br />
It is of my face, looking oddly saintly<br />
And I sit on my sofa, now plastic and old<br />
Somethings have changed, and I was not told <br />
I blink, I blink, I blink, and I cry<br />
I cannot figure out what has passed me by<br />
The cherub is gone, the frame, I shriek!<br />
And yet not a soul can hear me speak<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Posted to <a href="http://dversepoets.com/">dVerse</a></i><a href="http://dversepoets.com/"> </a></span></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11610184057896951494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4598346008115670230.post-8127627903483641042011-11-12T00:00:00.000-05:002011-11-12T00:37:12.863-05:00Nick's November Giveaway<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b style="color: #e69138;"><span style="color: #b45f06; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">~T<span style="color: #e69138;">h</span>i<span style="color: #e69138;">s</span> <span style="color: #e69138;">I</span>s A <span style="color: #e69138;">G</span>i<span style="color: #e69138;">v</span>e<span style="color: #e69138;">a</span>w<span style="color: #e69138;">a</span>y<span style="color: #e69138;">!</span>~ </span></b></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglYZD8i2P-oxUe5zfbaRkCrtbDnGozO2_gUaaqLQkQlrd4L2MqoGLCAKQ4eCEi8Do0_1AVw34EMr7uYsRHlP14YkjExhGR0Ye__D_iKAQHC4YVxG2LXHvRnAzSeeHwfV0HD6frpgYRlnDP/s1600/giveaway+hop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="321" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglYZD8i2P-oxUe5zfbaRkCrtbDnGozO2_gUaaqLQkQlrd4L2MqoGLCAKQ4eCEi8Do0_1AVw34EMr7uYsRHlP14YkjExhGR0Ye__D_iKAQHC4YVxG2LXHvRnAzSeeHwfV0HD6frpgYRlnDP/s400/giveaway+hop.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Co-Hosted by: </i></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> <a href="http://tristipinkston.blogspot.com/">Tristi Pinkston</a> &</i></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> <a href="http://iamareadernotawriter.blogspot.com/2011/10/november-giveaway-hop_08.html?showComment=1319673003224#c4500950671565109071">I'm a Reader, Not a Writer</a></i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Other Giveaways: <a href="http://www.linkytools.com/basic_linky_include.aspx?id=110221">Linky List for the Hop! </a></i></span></td></tr>
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Well, if you haven't figured it out by now, you've arrived at my <span style="color: #e69138;">November giveaway page</span>! Yes, that's right. Nick is holding a<span style="color: #e69138;"> </span><b style="color: #e69138;">giveaway!</b> </div>
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But <i>what kind</i> of giveaway, you ask.</div>
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Well, the <i>anything</i> kind of giveaway. Anything <i>literary</i>, that is.</div>
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You see, <b>one lucky person</b> is going to get <b><i>any book they want</i></b> as long at it fits under two conditions:</div>
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<b>- It <i>must</i> be available on Amazon</b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #e69138;">- It </span><i style="color: #e69138;">must</i><span style="color: #e69138;"> cost $15 or less</span></b></div>
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Unfortunately, due to shipping costs, this giveaway is <i>only available to people in the U.S</i>. If I had a bit more money on hand, I'd go international. Unfortunately, Nick is a poor college student, guys. Sorry.</div>
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Anyway, you're probably wondering what you have to do to enter this fancy giveaway, huh?</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Rules to Enter:</b></span></div>
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<b>- You must be a follower of my blog</b></div>
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<b> - You must fill out all required fields on the form</b></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Extra Entries:</b></span></div>
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<b>- Tweet this contest (+1)</b></div>
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<b>- Share this contest as a post on Google + </b> <b>(+1)</b></div>
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So that equates to three entries total if you do those extra things. <b> </b>Good odds, I'd say. The giveaway is only open for four days, from November 8th to the 11th, so you better get your entries in!</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>If you win:</b></span></div>
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<b>- I will email you (<i>please</i> provide a valid email address on the form)</b></div>
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<b>- You will be asked for your preferred shipping address</b></div>
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<b>- You will be asked which book you'd like </b></div>
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<b>- I will ship it to you via Amazon** </b></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">** If the book you want has not been</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"> released yet, I will pre-order it for you</span><b>.</b></div>
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Yes, it <i>is </i>that simple.</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>The Giveaway Hop Has Ended, Guys! </b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>I'll pick my winner sometime tomorrow, okay? =)</b></span></div>
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<br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11610184057896951494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4598346008115670230.post-59148209740453032792011-11-08T14:37:00.002-05:002011-11-08T14:44:57.012-05:00Poetry: The Design<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Posted to <a href="http://dversepoets.com/">dVerse</a></i> </span></div>
<br />
I molded them from hardened clay<br />
And they were hardened dust<br />
I bestowed all of my love to them<br />
And yet, they broke my trust<br />
Within my shape, I molded them<br />
But they broke their chains of clay<br />
And though I still sit above them now<br />
I mourn them to this day<br />
<br />
But what can the balance weigh to see<br />
If I am wrong or they?<br />
Was I at fault to make them so<br />
Or them to disobey?<br />
The fundamental arguments<br />
Of faith or hope or light<br />
Mean nothing in the grandest scheme<br />
Of the true meaning of life<br />
<br />
But what is the meaning that I seek<br />
Or is it they that seek it thus?<br />
Am I still searching for the answer<br />
To why they broke my trust?<br />
Or is it they that mourn the loss,<br />
They wonder how the sin<br />
Beget their wondrous fall from grace<br />
To the current state of men?<br />
<br />
We wonder from our vantage points,<br />
Me above down to below<br />
And they so staring at the sky<br />
Wishing my blessings to bestow<br />
But can I touch them now again<br />
After so much time has passed?<br />
And if I did, would once again<br />
They wander from their path?<br />
<br />
Do I dare demand them once again<br />
With commandments set in stone?<br />
Or would they just be crushed within<br />
The rush of falsities enthroned?<br />
Do I dare endear the holy man<br />
Who dabbles sickly in the dark,<br />
Who leads a horde of so-lost sheep<br />
In the <i>opposite</i> way of the ark?<br />
<br />
Do I dare entrust the preacher high<br />
To lead them back to chains of clay?<br />
Or would he make their chains of a<br />
Different sort, a parody of pray?<br />
Do I dare call out to the common man<br />
Of angels would he sing and rant?<br />
Would he just be thrown into the white<br />
And never in life the knowledge grant?<br />
<br />
Do I dare speak out to all at once,<br />
A sphere of seven billion lives<br />
With every single life within<br />
Of a singular divide?<br />
Would seven billion minds of man<br />
Ever cease to rage and kill<br />
Even if I spoke to them of<br />
Grace, love, and goodwill?<br />
<br />
I cannot imagine here today<br />
A world of peace and pride<br />
Of a world of man so far untouched<br />
By the hand of meaningless divide<br />
I can imagine only what I see<br />
For the not-eternity of them all <br />
And what I see is not redemption<br />
But the continuance of an unending fall<br />
<br />
So because of this, I cannot speak<br />
I dare not test their wills again<br />
I will not touch the world once more,<br />
Not in aid or death, as I promised them<br />
Instead I will sit and watch and wait<br />
And hope some original spark of mine<br />
Will in some way rekindle once again<br />
The perfection of my original design<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11610184057896951494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4598346008115670230.post-50049986152868867172011-11-01T14:58:00.004-04:002011-12-17T21:01:52.634-05:00Poetry: The AnthemThey sing it from the mountain tops<br />
They sing it from the valleys low<br />
They sing from above the sky<br />
They sing from the ground below<br />
They sing it sitting by their windows<br />
They sing it standing in their yards<br />
They sing it in their run-down cars<br />
They sing it by their game of cards<br />
<br />
But what can it be that they all sing<br />
That not a single person hears?<br />
What can it be that they all know<br />
Yet not a single one endears?<br />
What is it that the billions voice<br />
That falls on Silence's deaf ears?<br />
And if you listened closer still<br />
Would you hear it through their silent tears? <br />
<br />
They hum it day to day to night<br />
They hum it while they laugh and play<br />
They hum it while their children learn<br />
They hum it every single day<br />
They hum it in their broken homes<br />
They hum it to their broken lives<br />
They hum it to the sounds of work<br />
They hum it to the clang of knives<br />
<br />
But what can it be that they all hum<br />
That not a single person hears?<br />
What can it be they they all want<br />
Yet not a single one endears?<br />
What is it that the billions hum<br />
That falls cold on Misfortune's mind?<br />
And if you listened closer still<br />
Would you begin to hum in time?<br />
<br />
Because what they hum and what they sing<br />
Is only what they've always done<br />
When the monumental truths of life<br />
Burned their minds so far undone<br />
Because what they sing and what they hum<br />
Is the anthem of their bodies sore<br />
Of their lives so filled with pain<br />
It is the anthem of the poor <br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11610184057896951494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4598346008115670230.post-68752782202428908952011-10-29T20:47:00.000-04:002011-10-29T20:52:17.017-04:00Poetry: The Only Walk<div style="text-align: center;">
He walked away, and so did I</div>
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Down opposing streets with opposing lives</div>
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We'd screamed the world once over, thus</div>
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We figured that chain of love was broken for us</div>
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And so we both marched our own warpaths away</div>
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I said "See you never." He said "Never seize the day."</div>
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And so I didn't seize it; instead I thought in idleness</div>
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Of all the trifles we had had to make <i>this</i> go amiss</div>
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<br /></div>
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And so I kept on not seizing it; instead I wandered through the past</div>
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That past that had been alight with flames, now crumbling with ash</div>
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And this past of mine I could not grasp, it made me cold inside</div>
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And no matter how fast I walked my street, it was something I could not hide</div>
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<br /></div>
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If only we had both realized that the world is just a sphere</div>
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If you walk straight on your warpath, you'll be here then there then here</div>
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It's a never ending circle, and it's trickery is just and fair</div>
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And that was why both of us were once again ensared</div>
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<br /></div>
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We met face to face, both hiding our faces from a like cold</div>
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And when our iced-up eyes met, they spoke of volumes yet untold</div>
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And it was at this little point in time, we no longer could deny</div>
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That our foolish trifles of the past had costs us our together lives</div>
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<br /></div>
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And so, with such remorse and resentment high</div>
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We decided the only way it could be all right</div>
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Is if we wiped that slate perfectly clean</div>
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And stopped walking straight and striding mean</div>
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<br /></div>
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And thus, our chain of love was forged again</div>
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We laughed the world once over, and</div>
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Down a new street, we strolled that night</div>
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We walked together, side by side</div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>Posted to <a href="http://dversepoets.com/">dVerse</a></i></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11610184057896951494noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4598346008115670230.post-5212536425584685532011-10-28T23:31:00.004-04:002011-10-28T23:38:16.125-04:00On Writing: The Omnipresent Muse<div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhpnG4Cg795DyPUR1wOfYXZpoHPBnlhrpDlkezyYof4dIU8gSRkqeknWUn3aUlVmCv5E44xntWI_9WGozDvF7og119XiDR5uzlTvz8iNBiQAhKMdqB-XtJWsmYPXNmtlmvLO7UCBHlvmOq/s1600/IMG_0383.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhpnG4Cg795DyPUR1wOfYXZpoHPBnlhrpDlkezyYof4dIU8gSRkqeknWUn3aUlVmCv5E44xntWI_9WGozDvF7og119XiDR5uzlTvz8iNBiQAhKMdqB-XtJWsmYPXNmtlmvLO7UCBHlvmOq/s400/IMG_0383.JPG" width="400" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">I hear it on every blog, on every thread, in every classroom:</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><i>Where does your inspiration come from?</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">As a writer (or an artist of any form, for that matter), I am expected to draw inspiration from sort of source, from some kind of <i>muse</i>, whether it is metaphysical or no more abstract than the stapler on my desk. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">But the point is, I'm <i style="color: #cc0000;">supposed</i> to get inspiration <i>from <span style="color: #cc0000;">somewhere</span></i>. </span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">But what if I don't?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">The hardest thing for me to describe as a writer is where my ideas come from. They do not form in any pattern or expand in any specified time frames. They are not items on a checklist or events to attend on a schedule.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">They just <i style="color: #cc0000;">are</i>. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">They just <i style="color: #cc0000;">come to be</i>. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">And there has never been a way for me to adequately express that concept. Just the other day, my drama teacher asked the creative writers in his class how they think up names, as if the method of doing so is always and always will be something <i>systematic</i>. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">But for me, characters, worlds, plots...they've never been part of any sort of system. They just <i style="color: #cc0000;">have been</i>. They just <i style="color: #cc0000;">will be</i>. Right now, there are least ten different plots unraveling in my head. There always have been, for as long as I can remember. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">When I was a child--long before I had any notions of writing as an art--they were still there. They were different, of course. They weren't<span style="color: #cc0000;"> </span><i style="color: #cc0000;">refined</i> in any sort of way. They weren't edited to be shared (or decidedly left <i>unedited</i> for that same purpose). They just <i style="color: #cc0000;">were</i>. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">And they still<i style="color: #cc0000;"> are</i>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">But really, how do I adequately describe such a concept to people whose ideas <i>are not</i>, to those who labor over creating plot lines and characters? How do I describe it to people who are not even creative writers? Frequently, it becomes a dilemma for me. I feel like saying "oh, it just comes to me" makes me seem like an arrogant novice. But what else do I say?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">If not that, then I'd be lying. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">And what's worse? The arrogant novice or the liar? </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">And what really complicates things is the fact that I <i>know</i> that my brain <i>must</i> go through similar processes of interpreting the world I experience and creating its own ideas from them--that subsequently lend to my imagined universes--<i style="color: #cc0000;">just</i><span style="color: #cc0000;"> </span><i style="color: #cc0000;">like everyone else</i><span style="color: #cc0000;">. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">The problem is that I don't go through that <i style="color: #cc0000;">actively</i><span style="color: #cc0000;">.</span> It happens so fast, I practically skip it altogether. It happens behind the scenes as opposed to being at the forefront, as opposed to being this whole, big, dreadfully important <i style="color: #cc0000;">brainstorming</i> step to writing that most people continually discuss. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">And, in a way, that makes me feel left out. I see post after post after thread after thread titled "It's so hard to think of names" and "I'm so bad at world-building!"</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">And it stops me every single time. Because I don't think of names. I don't build the worlds. <i><span style="color: #cc0000;">They're already there. </span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">I guess the best way to sum it up--in terms of the<span style="color: #cc0000;"> </span><i style="color: #cc0000;">system</i> I'm<span style="color: #cc0000;"> </span><i style="color: #cc0000;">supposed</i> to have--is that I have an <b style="color: #cc0000;">omnipresent muse.</b> It does not wax and wane. It does not brighten or fade. It is a muse whose inspiration never ceases. Not during my day or night. Not during my classes or free time. It strikes a constant stream of chords wherein each note becomes it's own reality. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">It never stops. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">On the one hand, I see that as a blessing. Because I will never run out of things to think about. I will never run out of stories to tell. On another, it's a curse. Because no matter what I do, I will <i style="color: #cc0000;">never</i> be able to tell you all <i style="color: #cc0000;">everything</i>. Ever. And what you will get from me will be so watered down that it won't even begin to compare with what it is my head. </span></div>
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<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">But to tell you everything that I have in my mind--at this exact point--would probably take longer than I even <i style="color: #cc0000;">have</i> at all. And even if I could possible manage to sum it all up in any forgivable time frame, by the time I finished explaining it all, I'd have double that waiting to be told. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">So, yeah. Writing. For me, it's kind of an unending quest. I have the muse that never fades, that never dies, that never goes away. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">But you know what? In the end, I don't think I'd give that up. For anything. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><b>- Nick</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><b> _____________</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><b> </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>So, I'll guess I'll ask you guys the dreaded question then: Where do </i><i>you get inspiration?</i></span><b><br /></b></span></div>
</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11610184057896951494noreply@blogger.com0