Oh, Yuletide. You're always such an interesting time of year. From the endless Frosty and Rudolph songs on the radio, to making gifts for my friends and family, to finding a tree, all the way to the various holidays that we celebrate, it's always a fun time of year.
This year, as I mentioned previously, I am becoming increasingly more and more fed up with the radio's song choices, and have gone to far as to talk about creating my own station of holiday music for the EXPRESS PURPOSE of not playing any songs about magic snowmen or reindeer. I don't dislike the songs completely, but the frequency is really wearing on me.
As usual, I'm busy at work, creating gifts. I always make gifts, and although it takes a while to get it all done (and my out-of-state friends may end up with late gifties, sadly), I love doing it.
Remember the classes that my family and I teach, the ones that started in September? Well, just yesterday was the final day of the semester, and I could not be prouder of all of the students. It was a lot of fun, and while the workload of getting everything prepared for the ten classes we taught at once was admittedly heavy, I can't say that I didn't enjoy it. We're already brainstorming for next semester, and it's looking like we'll be teaching a whole pile of new classes, and I'm thrilled.
Life is always busy, and right now is no exception. I'll be surprised if I reach my goal of 52 posts by the end of the year, but let me tell you, I'm going to try my best.
This has been a pretty newsy post, so I'll toss it to you all...if there's still anyone reading this, that is.
What's new in your life?
Now I must go so I can sleep so I can wake up and do more Yule elf things.
Cheers,
Whimsy
Friday, December 16, 2011
Thursday, December 15, 2011
Week Forty-Four: The Face On The Milk Carton
This was written as a project for one of the classes my family and I teach. We did a book report on our least favorite book from the six that we covered in our Banned Book Club. I had great fun with this.
The Face on the Milk Carton
This book tells the story of a teenage girl who finds out that she was kidnapped as a toddler through a series of totally unrealistic coincidences and absurd conjecture. Janie Johnson is our paper-flat heroine, a girl with no apparent interests other than the boy next door and no more character depth than trying not to drink milk because of her mild lactose allergy. One day, while surrounded by her insipid and wildly annoying friends who don’t seem to really know her at all, (judging by the fact that they can happily ignore that Janie is having a complete and total mental breakdown while they cheerily eat their lunches,) Janie finds a photo of herself in a missing children’s ad on the side of a milk carton. She recognizes the photo of herself from the dress that she’s wearing, goes into a tailspin and promptly decides that her loving parents must have stolen her away from her “real” family at a young age, all in less time than it takes her school lunch to get cold.
Here is where the real fun starts for Janie. Not only does she spend ninety percent of the rest of the book flip-flopping between hysteria and numbness, she also acquires a markedly crappy boyfriend named Reeve and fails every single one of her classes, but she also becomes so attached to the milk carton with her face on it, she can’t be without it for more than an hour at a time.
During poor cardboard Janie’s meltdown of self destruction, the strangest part of the book happens. Nobody notices. Her teachers just simply keep on giving her assignments, not one of them stopping to wonder why this formerly brilliant pupil is doing so poorly. Her friends actually get mad at her for being distant, not even noticing that she’s having full-blown panic attacks in front of them. Her supposed “Best Friend” calls her up one night, and when Janie doesn’t want to make small talk about nail polish and boys, gets so upset that she essentially disowns her as a friend.
When Janie finally reaches her breaking point, she skips school with her boyfriend, Reeve, and takes a four hour trip down to New Jersey to attempt to find her family through searching through a phonebook at then stalking them outside their home. Neither Reeve nor Janie seem to see any problem with this, and they wait creepily in the car while Janie’s assumed biological family comes home from school. In this interlude, Reeve appears to just have been waiting for Janie to be done with her parked-car stalking so that he can ask her to go to a motel. Janie turns him down, and they get back in the car to make the four hour drive back home. About halfway back home, without having exchanged more than six words, Reeve turns off the highway, drives into a astonishingly skeezy motel parking lot, and rents a room using his mother’s credit card. Janie, who has not been interested in finding a motel *wink wink*, turns him down yet again and then they get back in the car and drive away, not even bothering to check out. With Janie’s breakdown taking up most of her brain space, is it really the golden opportunity to try to find a motel?
For the rest of the ride, Reeve doesn’t speak to her until they realize they had better get their stories straight for their parents, who are going absolutely insane from wondering where their children have gone, and then shortly after the road trip to New Jersey, he dumps her.
I think now is a good time to pause the manic action of this book and talk briefly about the writing style. For example, the metaphors weighed down the pace of the book like a dumbbell on a folded paper airplane. As a matter of fact, wading through the metaphors was like sloshing through a four foot vat of jelly. Reading the superfluous metaphors made me feel as if I was drowning in the ocean with thousands of paper cuts all over my skin.
When the plot wasn’t being bogged down by the poor word choices, The Face on the Milk Carton felt both intensely melodramatic and breakneck, slowed down and meticulously described in all the wrong places, and then suddenly the writing would take off and sweep over hours or days of time in a sentence or two. There was no plot arch, and the one big plot point of the book was stretched out into an overlong, dazed and poorly paced literary cacophony of confusion.
In short, The Face on the Milk Carton is a novel full of unrealistic coincidences, gaping plot holes, overly complicated metaphors, and a plot that is stretched so thinly it’s nearly at its breaking point. The underdeveloped characters left me without a speck of sympathy for their unrealistic plights, and the ending, while leaving the story open for a sequel , left me apathetic with no real desire to read onward.
The Face on the Milk Carton
This book tells the story of a teenage girl who finds out that she was kidnapped as a toddler through a series of totally unrealistic coincidences and absurd conjecture. Janie Johnson is our paper-flat heroine, a girl with no apparent interests other than the boy next door and no more character depth than trying not to drink milk because of her mild lactose allergy. One day, while surrounded by her insipid and wildly annoying friends who don’t seem to really know her at all, (judging by the fact that they can happily ignore that Janie is having a complete and total mental breakdown while they cheerily eat their lunches,) Janie finds a photo of herself in a missing children’s ad on the side of a milk carton. She recognizes the photo of herself from the dress that she’s wearing, goes into a tailspin and promptly decides that her loving parents must have stolen her away from her “real” family at a young age, all in less time than it takes her school lunch to get cold.
Here is where the real fun starts for Janie. Not only does she spend ninety percent of the rest of the book flip-flopping between hysteria and numbness, she also acquires a markedly crappy boyfriend named Reeve and fails every single one of her classes, but she also becomes so attached to the milk carton with her face on it, she can’t be without it for more than an hour at a time.
During poor cardboard Janie’s meltdown of self destruction, the strangest part of the book happens. Nobody notices. Her teachers just simply keep on giving her assignments, not one of them stopping to wonder why this formerly brilliant pupil is doing so poorly. Her friends actually get mad at her for being distant, not even noticing that she’s having full-blown panic attacks in front of them. Her supposed “Best Friend” calls her up one night, and when Janie doesn’t want to make small talk about nail polish and boys, gets so upset that she essentially disowns her as a friend.
When Janie finally reaches her breaking point, she skips school with her boyfriend, Reeve, and takes a four hour trip down to New Jersey to attempt to find her family through searching through a phonebook at then stalking them outside their home. Neither Reeve nor Janie seem to see any problem with this, and they wait creepily in the car while Janie’s assumed biological family comes home from school. In this interlude, Reeve appears to just have been waiting for Janie to be done with her parked-car stalking so that he can ask her to go to a motel. Janie turns him down, and they get back in the car to make the four hour drive back home. About halfway back home, without having exchanged more than six words, Reeve turns off the highway, drives into a astonishingly skeezy motel parking lot, and rents a room using his mother’s credit card. Janie, who has not been interested in finding a motel *wink wink*, turns him down yet again and then they get back in the car and drive away, not even bothering to check out. With Janie’s breakdown taking up most of her brain space, is it really the golden opportunity to try to find a motel?
For the rest of the ride, Reeve doesn’t speak to her until they realize they had better get their stories straight for their parents, who are going absolutely insane from wondering where their children have gone, and then shortly after the road trip to New Jersey, he dumps her.
I think now is a good time to pause the manic action of this book and talk briefly about the writing style. For example, the metaphors weighed down the pace of the book like a dumbbell on a folded paper airplane. As a matter of fact, wading through the metaphors was like sloshing through a four foot vat of jelly. Reading the superfluous metaphors made me feel as if I was drowning in the ocean with thousands of paper cuts all over my skin.
When the plot wasn’t being bogged down by the poor word choices, The Face on the Milk Carton felt both intensely melodramatic and breakneck, slowed down and meticulously described in all the wrong places, and then suddenly the writing would take off and sweep over hours or days of time in a sentence or two. There was no plot arch, and the one big plot point of the book was stretched out into an overlong, dazed and poorly paced literary cacophony of confusion.
In short, The Face on the Milk Carton is a novel full of unrealistic coincidences, gaping plot holes, overly complicated metaphors, and a plot that is stretched so thinly it’s nearly at its breaking point. The underdeveloped characters left me without a speck of sympathy for their unrealistic plights, and the ending, while leaving the story open for a sequel , left me apathetic with no real desire to read onward.
Saturday, December 10, 2011
Week Forty-Three: Out Of Hibernation
Hello, bloggy-types!
Yes, I know, it's been a while. I disappeared during November, but on the bright side, I've written my third novel.
It went better than I'd expected, actually. Especially since I had my busiest November on record, managing to finish 50,000 words has been quite the trip. I had very little idea as to what I wanted to do with my novel this year, and almost everything that I'd planned went straight out the window. I couldn't be happier.
As of now, I'm re-reading it, and to my surprise, there's actually some not-that-bad bits in there, including an argument that I particularly liked. Clearly, I'm going to need a lot of time to edit it into something coherent, but at least it's there. I had a really good time with it this year, and I'm really proud of my little fledgeling book-baby.
With the self-imposed challenge of BOW'11, I've obviously missed a handful of weeks, but that's okay, I think. My goal has been revised to post 52 times this year, so look forward to tons of posts until December 31st. Even though I technically failed the guidelines of this challenge, I don't really feel like it. I've posted roughly forty-three more times than I would have without attempting this mad project, and because of that, I have a window to look back at how I was feeling, what I was doing, and who I was throughout this past year, and in that case, it was totally worth it.
It's the Christmas-Yule season now, the house is decorated, and the holiday music is playing over the radio.
For now, I have to say goodbye. It's time to go get the tree, and we need to find the biggest, fattest tree we can, so I must go.
Look out for Whimsy's triumphant return, as I attempt to write 10 blog posts in three weeks.
Happy holidays!
~Whimsy
Yes, I know, it's been a while. I disappeared during November, but on the bright side, I've written my third novel.
It went better than I'd expected, actually. Especially since I had my busiest November on record, managing to finish 50,000 words has been quite the trip. I had very little idea as to what I wanted to do with my novel this year, and almost everything that I'd planned went straight out the window. I couldn't be happier.
As of now, I'm re-reading it, and to my surprise, there's actually some not-that-bad bits in there, including an argument that I particularly liked. Clearly, I'm going to need a lot of time to edit it into something coherent, but at least it's there. I had a really good time with it this year, and I'm really proud of my little fledgeling book-baby.
With the self-imposed challenge of BOW'11, I've obviously missed a handful of weeks, but that's okay, I think. My goal has been revised to post 52 times this year, so look forward to tons of posts until December 31st. Even though I technically failed the guidelines of this challenge, I don't really feel like it. I've posted roughly forty-three more times than I would have without attempting this mad project, and because of that, I have a window to look back at how I was feeling, what I was doing, and who I was throughout this past year, and in that case, it was totally worth it.
It's the Christmas-Yule season now, the house is decorated, and the holiday music is playing over the radio.
For now, I have to say goodbye. It's time to go get the tree, and we need to find the biggest, fattest tree we can, so I must go.
Look out for Whimsy's triumphant return, as I attempt to write 10 blog posts in three weeks.
Happy holidays!
~Whimsy
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Week Fourty-Two: Shanta
Once upon a time, I had the best dog ever. Her name was Shanta, and she was everything from a partner in crime to a pillow. Shanta and I grew up at the same time, we spending thirteen years of our lives together. I remember when I was younger, Shanta was a staple in whatever I was doing, whether it was smashing dog treats with rocks and feeding her the mixed up powder as a gourmet doggy restaurant, or playing house in the woods with Shanta as my pet wolf, she was always there.
One year, my sister and I decided that since Shanta was a husky, it would be a brilliant idea to hitch her up to one of the sleds and have her pull us down the hill. Shanta decided that it would be the opposite of brilliant. To our dismay, she was terrified of the sled, and so ended our very short career as mushers.
In the summers, I spent hours making terrifically inedible foods from flowers and sand. Shanta, who wanted to be included, regardless of what it was we were doing, developed a habit of helping herself to whatever blossoms were designated for our colorful salads. In turn, we developed a habit of plucking rhododendron flowers and feeding them to her, in lieu of actual dog treats from the store.
As I grew older, flowers gave way to little bits of whatever food I was eating that day. Carrots and sandwich bread, egg salad and potato chips, you name it, Shanta wanted some. Everything but fruit, that is. She couldn’t stand fruit, yet she would beg for it if we had some. It never seemed to cross her mind that she didn’t, in fact, like apple cores, no matter how much fun we seemed to be having with ours.
When she lived outside, Shanta slept in the snowdrifts, nose tucked under her tail, leaving behind a little round icy divot in the flakes. During her days, she raced through the woods, catching anything foolish enough to wander into her path, and more frequently than not, devouring it. The sheer fact that she could catch birds was a testament to her speed and agility, and her area of the yard became a graveyard for small woodland creatures, while our family struggled to remove the hapless toads that hopped in her way.
Twice, we almost lost her. The first time, we could only assume that she chased after a deer and sprinted out of the range of her invisible fence. The second time, we found her (with the help of some wonderful people) three and a half hours away in Wrentham, MA. She had been hit by a car, broken her leg, and almost certainly been abducted. From that day forward, Shanta became an indoor dog. Her life and our family’s lives changed forever.
A “begging line” was established in the kitchen, and Shanta’s disgusting but well-loved toy, “hamboogie”, moved inside with us. Tina learned to tolerate the new addition, not finding much joy in having an intruder in her cat-only home, and we learned to tolerate the mountain of fluffy white hair that Shanta left wherever she went. The house was full of laughter and an enthusiastic dog. Suddenly, picking up spilled food became Shanta’s job, a job that she was all too happy to take on. I should say, she was happy to clean up everything but the fruit. Old habits die hard.
After a while, I decided that Shanta needed a voice to share her opinions about what was happening around the house, so I became her “tail-voice”, vocalizing on her behalf, and attempting to tap into what she was thinking from the look on her face. It soon became clear to everyone in the house that Shanta had very clear opinions about certain things, like perceived favoritism of the cat, certain high-pitched singers on the radio, what sort of food should be cooked for dinner, and was indefinitely puzzled by the fact that humans shed their entire coats every day, and that while her snowdrifts of hair were a source of annoyance, nobody found the fact that humans sheadded daily odd at all.
It never really occurred to me that, while I was growing and becoming older, Shanta was, too. In my mind, she was always my puppy, and I called her that, as the years past. Last April, Shanta suffered a series of seizures, and rapidly declined, dying a week later.
I miss my puppy every day. She was one of the most sweet, gentle, loving, funny creatures I have ever met, and I am immensely privileged to have spent 13 years of my life with her.
Once upon a time, I had the best dog ever. Her name was Shanta.
One year, my sister and I decided that since Shanta was a husky, it would be a brilliant idea to hitch her up to one of the sleds and have her pull us down the hill. Shanta decided that it would be the opposite of brilliant. To our dismay, she was terrified of the sled, and so ended our very short career as mushers.
In the summers, I spent hours making terrifically inedible foods from flowers and sand. Shanta, who wanted to be included, regardless of what it was we were doing, developed a habit of helping herself to whatever blossoms were designated for our colorful salads. In turn, we developed a habit of plucking rhododendron flowers and feeding them to her, in lieu of actual dog treats from the store.
As I grew older, flowers gave way to little bits of whatever food I was eating that day. Carrots and sandwich bread, egg salad and potato chips, you name it, Shanta wanted some. Everything but fruit, that is. She couldn’t stand fruit, yet she would beg for it if we had some. It never seemed to cross her mind that she didn’t, in fact, like apple cores, no matter how much fun we seemed to be having with ours.
When she lived outside, Shanta slept in the snowdrifts, nose tucked under her tail, leaving behind a little round icy divot in the flakes. During her days, she raced through the woods, catching anything foolish enough to wander into her path, and more frequently than not, devouring it. The sheer fact that she could catch birds was a testament to her speed and agility, and her area of the yard became a graveyard for small woodland creatures, while our family struggled to remove the hapless toads that hopped in her way.
Twice, we almost lost her. The first time, we could only assume that she chased after a deer and sprinted out of the range of her invisible fence. The second time, we found her (with the help of some wonderful people) three and a half hours away in Wrentham, MA. She had been hit by a car, broken her leg, and almost certainly been abducted. From that day forward, Shanta became an indoor dog. Her life and our family’s lives changed forever.
A “begging line” was established in the kitchen, and Shanta’s disgusting but well-loved toy, “hamboogie”, moved inside with us. Tina learned to tolerate the new addition, not finding much joy in having an intruder in her cat-only home, and we learned to tolerate the mountain of fluffy white hair that Shanta left wherever she went. The house was full of laughter and an enthusiastic dog. Suddenly, picking up spilled food became Shanta’s job, a job that she was all too happy to take on. I should say, she was happy to clean up everything but the fruit. Old habits die hard.
After a while, I decided that Shanta needed a voice to share her opinions about what was happening around the house, so I became her “tail-voice”, vocalizing on her behalf, and attempting to tap into what she was thinking from the look on her face. It soon became clear to everyone in the house that Shanta had very clear opinions about certain things, like perceived favoritism of the cat, certain high-pitched singers on the radio, what sort of food should be cooked for dinner, and was indefinitely puzzled by the fact that humans shed their entire coats every day, and that while her snowdrifts of hair were a source of annoyance, nobody found the fact that humans sheadded daily odd at all.
It never really occurred to me that, while I was growing and becoming older, Shanta was, too. In my mind, she was always my puppy, and I called her that, as the years past. Last April, Shanta suffered a series of seizures, and rapidly declined, dying a week later.
I miss my puppy every day. She was one of the most sweet, gentle, loving, funny creatures I have ever met, and I am immensely privileged to have spent 13 years of my life with her.
Once upon a time, I had the best dog ever. Her name was Shanta.
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Week Fourty-One: NaNoWriMo Prep
Why hello again, my charming bloggians.
As you all know, November is creeping up ever faster that I thought possible. I am without a full-formed plot, without main characters, and without an outline. In addition to this, I will be teaching three days a week in November (and spending countless hours doing prepwork for the classes), attempting to keep sane, not fall behind on my BOW'11 project, and furthermore, the show that I'm in is opening the first weekend of November. It's all I can do to keep my head above water now, let alone attempt to write a book.
So now it's time for me to step back and look at my November in a realistic way. Will I be able to handle all this without going utterly bonkers? Can I take even three minutes to squeeze in another handful of words? No.
Is it madness to think that I could take on a project of this magnitude? Yes.
Will I be doing it anyway, despite my better judgement? You bet.
Am I taking on 50,000 words of a genre that I am not wildly familiar with? Indeed.
How excited am I? There are no words.
~Whimsy
P.S.
Thank you to all those who have commented. I love you all and send tons of hugs your way. I wish I had time to properly write back, but maybe in December? Thanks for sticking with me!
P.P.S. Are you NaNoing this year? What's your book about?
As you all know, November is creeping up ever faster that I thought possible. I am without a full-formed plot, without main characters, and without an outline. In addition to this, I will be teaching three days a week in November (and spending countless hours doing prepwork for the classes), attempting to keep sane, not fall behind on my BOW'11 project, and furthermore, the show that I'm in is opening the first weekend of November. It's all I can do to keep my head above water now, let alone attempt to write a book.
So now it's time for me to step back and look at my November in a realistic way. Will I be able to handle all this without going utterly bonkers? Can I take even three minutes to squeeze in another handful of words? No.
Is it madness to think that I could take on a project of this magnitude? Yes.
Will I be doing it anyway, despite my better judgement? You bet.
Am I taking on 50,000 words of a genre that I am not wildly familiar with? Indeed.
How excited am I? There are no words.
~Whimsy
P.S.
Thank you to all those who have commented. I love you all and send tons of hugs your way. I wish I had time to properly write back, but maybe in December? Thanks for sticking with me!
P.P.S. Are you NaNoing this year? What's your book about?
Monday, October 10, 2011
Week Fourty: Everything Is Happening.
Do you ever have one of those weeks where everything is happening at once? Yeah, me too.
So that's why this is just bordering on late. I've been splitting my time between teaching and prepping for 10 different classes on three different days, rehearsing for the show I'm in, trying to get ready for NaNo, still keeping up on my weekly ASL lessons, learning to roller skate for the aforementioned play, read at least a little, keep the laundry going and the house at least marginally clean.
Clearly, it's been a bit nuts over here.
Just today, I spent 2 hours at the local skating rink just practicing going around and not falling over while holing on to a stack of books. Not as easy as one would think, especially since the last time I roller skated was at my cousin's birthday party, when he turned 5 or something. (This would have made me 6 years old.) Two weeks ago, the role I was play in the show swapped from the smallest part to one of the lead roles. For this new part, I have to learn to skate. Yes, I'm trying not to kill myself.
In addition, as I mentioned before, I'm thinking about NaNo. It's looking like my novel this year will be a huge sci-fi crazy-thing, and I couldn't be happier.
Anywho, I'm getting tired (it is 1:15am, after all), so I'll let you all go.
Hoping for a better post next week,
Whimsy
So that's why this is just bordering on late. I've been splitting my time between teaching and prepping for 10 different classes on three different days, rehearsing for the show I'm in, trying to get ready for NaNo, still keeping up on my weekly ASL lessons, learning to roller skate for the aforementioned play, read at least a little, keep the laundry going and the house at least marginally clean.
Clearly, it's been a bit nuts over here.
Just today, I spent 2 hours at the local skating rink just practicing going around and not falling over while holing on to a stack of books. Not as easy as one would think, especially since the last time I roller skated was at my cousin's birthday party, when he turned 5 or something. (This would have made me 6 years old.) Two weeks ago, the role I was play in the show swapped from the smallest part to one of the lead roles. For this new part, I have to learn to skate. Yes, I'm trying not to kill myself.
In addition, as I mentioned before, I'm thinking about NaNo. It's looking like my novel this year will be a huge sci-fi crazy-thing, and I couldn't be happier.
Anywho, I'm getting tired (it is 1:15am, after all), so I'll let you all go.
Hoping for a better post next week,
Whimsy
Saturday, October 1, 2011
Week Thirty-Nine: Unbridled Enthusiasm
There's something I've noticed, and it's become more and more blatant the more time I spend with young children*.
When young children see something that makes them happy, they show it in every molecule of their body. They see no reason to tone down the absolute joy that they feel. If something is exciting, they jump up and down, squealing with glee. When they find someone who likes the same thing that they like, it's a cause for a party.
Here's the thing. When we grow older, many, many people lose that unbridled enthusiasm. We go from showing our happiness on every inch of our bodies to hiding the fact that we're enjoying inside ourselves. At some point, it's like there's an unspoken rule that a certain amount of joy and outwardly expressed emotion that becomes uncool.
Now, pardon me, but this is where I would like to jump in. I think that the idea that we have to squelch the fact that we're happy is complete and utter bollocks. The whole "cool people don't subtly jump up and down, quietly cheering when they find the book that they wanted at the library" idea is completely absurd.
I know many, many people who have a bunch of wonderful interests, and yet, most of the time, they live in a state of restraining themselves from letting themselves really become enthusiastic about what makes them happy.
When you can't even express your joy outwardly, I think that's so very sad. Furthermore, when people do express the fact that they're excited, I've actually seen them apologize for it. Being enthusiastic is not a bad thing, people. Let's stop treating it as such.
So go ahead, enthuse about your favorite books. Spend the whole day in excited anticipation of a new episode of a TV show. Do a happy spin because you've found the exact tea you wanted at the grocery store.
Just don't let enthusiasm die out. Please. If enthusiasm dies, what a bland world we'd have.
Happy Saturday, everyone!
*And by "young children", I pretty much mean anyone from the age 6 to 11...loosely around there, at least.
When young children see something that makes them happy, they show it in every molecule of their body. They see no reason to tone down the absolute joy that they feel. If something is exciting, they jump up and down, squealing with glee. When they find someone who likes the same thing that they like, it's a cause for a party.
Here's the thing. When we grow older, many, many people lose that unbridled enthusiasm. We go from showing our happiness on every inch of our bodies to hiding the fact that we're enjoying inside ourselves. At some point, it's like there's an unspoken rule that a certain amount of joy and outwardly expressed emotion that becomes uncool.
Now, pardon me, but this is where I would like to jump in. I think that the idea that we have to squelch the fact that we're happy is complete and utter bollocks. The whole "cool people don't subtly jump up and down, quietly cheering when they find the book that they wanted at the library" idea is completely absurd.
I know many, many people who have a bunch of wonderful interests, and yet, most of the time, they live in a state of restraining themselves from letting themselves really become enthusiastic about what makes them happy.
When you can't even express your joy outwardly, I think that's so very sad. Furthermore, when people do express the fact that they're excited, I've actually seen them apologize for it. Being enthusiastic is not a bad thing, people. Let's stop treating it as such.
So go ahead, enthuse about your favorite books. Spend the whole day in excited anticipation of a new episode of a TV show. Do a happy spin because you've found the exact tea you wanted at the grocery store.
Just don't let enthusiasm die out. Please. If enthusiasm dies, what a bland world we'd have.
Happy Saturday, everyone!
*And by "young children", I pretty much mean anyone from the age 6 to 11...loosely around there, at least.
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Week Thirty-Eight: Boy Meets Boy
I was poking around on the internet, and I happened to come across some surprising controversy about David Levithan's "Boy Meets Boy". Now, if you haven't read the book, you should be able to gather that yes, it's a gay love story. The people I saw disliking the book were not people who don't support lgbtq people, but instead tended to be lgbtq people themselves. The reasoning seemed to be that it was unrealistic, that a world like Paul's is so removed from what we have now, it felt weird.
You all know me. I have plenty of opinions, a blog, and a penchant for lgbtq books. Of COURSE I have something to say.
Boy Meets Boy is a romantic comedy in a book. It follows the formula that we are all familiar with after watching a few "chick-flicks". Boy meets boy, boy loses boy, boy re-unites with boy, we all live happily ever after. For some reason, this doesn't feel trite at all, instead, leaving me feeling like I'm drinking the best hot cocoa ever, surrounded by a pile of kittens.
Is the book realistic? Good question. In the same way that Harry Potter, Eragon, Lord of the Rings, or any other alternate reality is realistic, I would have to say yes. When I look for realism, I look for characters reacting in a way that feels right for their background, people who I actually believe could exist. The bottom line is this: do I believe the writer? Can I look past the words on the page and say "yes, you exist"? In the case of Boy Meets Boy, the answer is a resounding yes.
The world that Paul and Noah live in might not look like your world, or like my world, but that doesn't stop me from trusting the author and going along for the ride. And for the space between those two covers, I live in a town where drag queens are the star quarterbacks, where the local scout group is not the homophobic boy scouts, but instead, the co-ed, diversity-friendly Joy Scouts. On those pages, I stand in Noah's room and paint music, and I eat at Veggie D's.
Do I believe that a world like that could exist? With all my heart. That's the world I look forward to living in one day.
One thing I have to say is this. Do yourself a favor. No matter who you are, or what words you use to identify with, you should read this book. Read it and bask in how wonderful it will make you feel.
~Whimsy
P.S. Happy Banned Book Week! Boy Meets Boy has never been banned, but it's been challenged at a few libraries. Celebrate Banned Book Week with me, read one.
You all know me. I have plenty of opinions, a blog, and a penchant for lgbtq books. Of COURSE I have something to say.
Boy Meets Boy is a romantic comedy in a book. It follows the formula that we are all familiar with after watching a few "chick-flicks". Boy meets boy, boy loses boy, boy re-unites with boy, we all live happily ever after. For some reason, this doesn't feel trite at all, instead, leaving me feeling like I'm drinking the best hot cocoa ever, surrounded by a pile of kittens.
Is the book realistic? Good question. In the same way that Harry Potter, Eragon, Lord of the Rings, or any other alternate reality is realistic, I would have to say yes. When I look for realism, I look for characters reacting in a way that feels right for their background, people who I actually believe could exist. The bottom line is this: do I believe the writer? Can I look past the words on the page and say "yes, you exist"? In the case of Boy Meets Boy, the answer is a resounding yes.
The world that Paul and Noah live in might not look like your world, or like my world, but that doesn't stop me from trusting the author and going along for the ride. And for the space between those two covers, I live in a town where drag queens are the star quarterbacks, where the local scout group is not the homophobic boy scouts, but instead, the co-ed, diversity-friendly Joy Scouts. On those pages, I stand in Noah's room and paint music, and I eat at Veggie D's.
Do I believe that a world like that could exist? With all my heart. That's the world I look forward to living in one day.
One thing I have to say is this. Do yourself a favor. No matter who you are, or what words you use to identify with, you should read this book. Read it and bask in how wonderful it will make you feel.
~Whimsy
P.S. Happy Banned Book Week! Boy Meets Boy has never been banned, but it's been challenged at a few libraries. Celebrate Banned Book Week with me, read one.
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Week Thirty-Seven: "This what I get for trying to avoid social interaction."
Before I say anything else, I want to make it perfectly clear that this story is one hundred percent true, not embellished by anything, exactly as I remember it. All right. Here we go.
Because of Tropical Storm Irene, our home and surrounding property sustained damage, so we put in a request to FEMA for disaster relief. On Sunday, the FEMA guy* came to our house to assess the damage.
Being the socially suave animal that I am, I always feel awkward when service people come to the house and I'm just sitting there, doing nothing, or carrying on with my normal life. I realize that I don't need to feel awkward, but the fact remains that I do. There's something that feels just WRONG with just having jelly toast when the furnace man is working his butt off and I'm doing nothing to help, not even paying any attention to him.
I actually had the conscious thought "I don't feel like being social right now", so instead of remaining at the kitchen table and continuing to work on a plan for NaNoWriMo (like a normal person would), I decided to take my noveling folder and head upstairs to my room, to essentially hide away until the FEMA guy had gone. Since there was no damage to the upstairs, I figured that I would be out of the way. I sat down on my bed and put my headphones on, turned up the Jonathan Coulton music** and pulled out my pen.
Everything was wonderful until mom called up the stairs "We're coming up there, are you okay?" now, this might be a normal occurrence in someone else's home, but my room isn't a mom-free zone, and announcing her presence as she came up the stairs is something that just never happens. Even though it was a normal thing to say, it felt like she was yelling "come on, make sure you've got your pants on."
So I looked up from my writing, and suddenly, I realized that I had left at least three bras on my desk, the middle of the floor, and on my CD rack. Panicking now, I ran around like mad, scooping up my underthings from their precarious positions where they had been strewn, and cursing my untidy nature. Finally, I managed to corral my brassieres, and had just managed to tuck them away in the bra-housing-place, when the FEMA guy came up the stairs. I posed myself in what I hoped was a casual place, over by my desk.
This would have been a perfectly fine idea if I had followed through with actually being interested in what was on my desk, but because of my aforementioned untidy nature, there was a stack of clean laundry to put away, a pile of cd's, and no place to work on something that would genuinely hold my attention for a few minutes, so I did what any normal person would do. I just sort of stood there, watching him and smiling like a loon.
My mom, standing behind him, having no idea why I looked the the cat that had just eaten the proverbial canary, kept giving me looks, trying to ask me what on earth was up by only using her eyes. Of course, all I could do was continue to smile at her, in what I hoped was a charming manner, all the while thinking "Oh god, this what I get for trying to avoid social interaction".
He just kind of looked at me, after he finished measuring the room and said, "Well, I'll let you get back to what you were doing, then". I think I thanked him and then he left, so I got out my guitar and played some wizard rock***.
After a little while, I thought that it might be awkward if I stayed in my room for the whole time the FEMA guy was here, so I packed up my stuff and made my way downstairs. My sister, who had the sense to remain at the kitchen table and keep on with her sewing project, saw me return from my hidey-hole, and without my needing to say a single word, casually said "He's outside".
I spent the rest of his visit pretending to play it really cool, but paying VERY close attention to the door to see if Mister FEMA Man was going to return.
He didn't.
The moral of this story is twofold. One, I am a gloriously socially awkward human being, and two, hiding from the FEMA man only makes it worse.
Good people of the blog, this is my brain. Good night.
* Dear FEMA guy: if you are reading this, I hope I amused you, and that you didn't think I was hiding drugs in my room or something.
** The amount of time I've spent listening to The Princess Who Saved Herself and watching the Doctor Who music video that a fan did to go along with it is absurd.
*** Story of my life, people.
Because of Tropical Storm Irene, our home and surrounding property sustained damage, so we put in a request to FEMA for disaster relief. On Sunday, the FEMA guy* came to our house to assess the damage.
Being the socially suave animal that I am, I always feel awkward when service people come to the house and I'm just sitting there, doing nothing, or carrying on with my normal life. I realize that I don't need to feel awkward, but the fact remains that I do. There's something that feels just WRONG with just having jelly toast when the furnace man is working his butt off and I'm doing nothing to help, not even paying any attention to him.
I actually had the conscious thought "I don't feel like being social right now", so instead of remaining at the kitchen table and continuing to work on a plan for NaNoWriMo (like a normal person would), I decided to take my noveling folder and head upstairs to my room, to essentially hide away until the FEMA guy had gone. Since there was no damage to the upstairs, I figured that I would be out of the way. I sat down on my bed and put my headphones on, turned up the Jonathan Coulton music** and pulled out my pen.
Everything was wonderful until mom called up the stairs "We're coming up there, are you okay?" now, this might be a normal occurrence in someone else's home, but my room isn't a mom-free zone, and announcing her presence as she came up the stairs is something that just never happens. Even though it was a normal thing to say, it felt like she was yelling "come on, make sure you've got your pants on."
So I looked up from my writing, and suddenly, I realized that I had left at least three bras on my desk, the middle of the floor, and on my CD rack. Panicking now, I ran around like mad, scooping up my underthings from their precarious positions where they had been strewn, and cursing my untidy nature. Finally, I managed to corral my brassieres, and had just managed to tuck them away in the bra-housing-place, when the FEMA guy came up the stairs. I posed myself in what I hoped was a casual place, over by my desk.
This would have been a perfectly fine idea if I had followed through with actually being interested in what was on my desk, but because of my aforementioned untidy nature, there was a stack of clean laundry to put away, a pile of cd's, and no place to work on something that would genuinely hold my attention for a few minutes, so I did what any normal person would do. I just sort of stood there, watching him and smiling like a loon.
My mom, standing behind him, having no idea why I looked the the cat that had just eaten the proverbial canary, kept giving me looks, trying to ask me what on earth was up by only using her eyes. Of course, all I could do was continue to smile at her, in what I hoped was a charming manner, all the while thinking "Oh god, this what I get for trying to avoid social interaction".
He just kind of looked at me, after he finished measuring the room and said, "Well, I'll let you get back to what you were doing, then". I think I thanked him and then he left, so I got out my guitar and played some wizard rock***.
After a little while, I thought that it might be awkward if I stayed in my room for the whole time the FEMA guy was here, so I packed up my stuff and made my way downstairs. My sister, who had the sense to remain at the kitchen table and keep on with her sewing project, saw me return from my hidey-hole, and without my needing to say a single word, casually said "He's outside".
I spent the rest of his visit pretending to play it really cool, but paying VERY close attention to the door to see if Mister FEMA Man was going to return.
He didn't.
The moral of this story is twofold. One, I am a gloriously socially awkward human being, and two, hiding from the FEMA man only makes it worse.
Good people of the blog, this is my brain. Good night.
* Dear FEMA guy: if you are reading this, I hope I amused you, and that you didn't think I was hiding drugs in my room or something.
** The amount of time I've spent listening to The Princess Who Saved Herself and watching the Doctor Who music video that a fan did to go along with it is absurd.
*** Story of my life, people.
Friday, September 9, 2011
Week Thirty-Six: Spoiler-free thoughts about Pottermore and my own personal Sorting.
Wow. It sure feels like it's been a while since I've posted, but I know it's just because BEDA is over, and I'd been in the habit of blogging every day.
As is usually the case, I've been busy. The show that I'm in is going into our third week of rehearsals, with 2 1/2 hours of rehearsal three times a week. Everyone is hilarious, and I'm having a great time. As is with last winter/early spring, I'll be teaching classes with my family at a homeschool co-op. Last year, we taught 3 classes at one co-op, all day on Tuesday. This fall, we've got proposals in at three different co-ops, and if all the classes we've proposed get the minimum enrollment, we'll be teaching 10 different classes. I have to say, I'd really excited about this. Between proposals for Banned Book Club (something I've already started calling "the BBC" in my head), teaching American Sign Language to two different age groups, and all the other amazing stuff, I really can't wait to get back to teaching. Autumn, here I come!
In other news, I finally got my Pottermore welcome e-mail!
When it appeared in my inbox, I literally jumped out of my chair and went shrieking into the kitchen saying something to the effect of "It's HERE! My Pottermore e-mail! I'm MAGICAL!!!" Seriously. Best e-mail ever.
No spoilers will be in this post, so don't worry. I wouldn't do that to people.
I've completed the first book, and it was amazing. Being a die-hard Potterhead, just having some new HP related things, directly from Jo Rowling herself is amazing. Without saying any more, I just have to say that I can't wait for book two!
Of course, the question that seems to be looming over everyone's head is about the Sorting. I was so nervous and SO excited, so naturally when I reached that part, I was just a tiny bit nerved up. I've self-identified as a Slytherin since the age of 9, (over half my life, and over ten years), so I have some very strongly held attachments to the house of the snake.
I took ages to complete my Sorting test, because I wanted to give the honest answers SO badly without trying to skew the results (either subconsciously or not) in any direction. After agonizing over every question, I pressed the button to get my result, the screen changed over to a bright, brilliant and shining RED.
I was in shock. Gryffindor? The house that I've spent years of my life teasing? The one house that I said that I wouldn't be happy about getting into on Pottermore?
I'll admit it. I started crying.
After a while, I managed to pull myself together and began to come to terms with the fact that being placed in Gryffindor is not, in fact, a bad thing*, and that the fact that I've been sorted into a house that I didn't think I was in does not mean that my whole life was a lie.
Because of my Sorting, I've been taking a new, closer look at Gryffindor, as a house. Some of the stereotypically Gryffindor traits are not things that I hold very dear to my heart, but once I looked past the James Potter-esque contingency, I can see that Gryffindors are just as varied as I've been trying to convince everyone that Slytherins are.
So much of my time has been spent trying to convince people that Slytherins aren't all bad. There's a surprising amount of house prejudice out there, and the misconception of Slytherins as selfish, evil, manipulative, cold-hearted bastards who care for themselves first, foremost and only really bothers me. As soon as people find out that I am a Slytherin, I've had every reaction from people physically backing away from me, to giving me really odd looks and asking why I wanted to be a Slytherin, to telling me I'm "too nice" to be a Slytherin. I think it's absurd that you can be "too nice" to be a Slytherin, just as I think it's absurd that you can be "not nice enough" to be a Hufflepuff. People who are sorted into different houses are still just people, and they come in a variety of personalities.
We need to remember that we see the Harry Potter books from Harry's point of view, and that what he perceives is not going to be 100% accurate (can anyone remember his repeated accusations of Snape or Draco being behind everything that seems just a slight bit off?) and that Harry is a person, with his own experiences coloring his view of the world, including the houses at Hogwarts.
I've been trying to remember that (just like is true with Slytherins) there's not just one kind of Gryffindor. Remus Lupin, one of my favorite characters in the HP series is a Gryffindor. So I have to say that while I'm not exactly happy with where I got Sorted, I'm coming to terms with being a Heart Slytherin and a Pottermore Gryffindor. What a weird mix.
So thank you, J.K.R. Thank you for forcing me to look at myself differently, and for giving us HP fans even more to look forward to. Thank you for writing, and thank you for helping make people into readers.
I'll see you all on Pottermore.
~Whimsy
*Please understand that I have many friends who are Gryffindors, and I love them all dearly, it's just that's not where I saw myself being placed, and after living as a very proud and out-there Slytherin, it can feel not-particularly-fantastic to be told that you're playing quidditch for the other team, as it were.
P.S. If you're on Pottermore, feel free to add SilverSpell70, and if you do, leave me a comment here so I can know who you lovely people are. Cheers!
As is usually the case, I've been busy. The show that I'm in is going into our third week of rehearsals, with 2 1/2 hours of rehearsal three times a week. Everyone is hilarious, and I'm having a great time. As is with last winter/early spring, I'll be teaching classes with my family at a homeschool co-op. Last year, we taught 3 classes at one co-op, all day on Tuesday. This fall, we've got proposals in at three different co-ops, and if all the classes we've proposed get the minimum enrollment, we'll be teaching 10 different classes. I have to say, I'd really excited about this. Between proposals for Banned Book Club (something I've already started calling "the BBC" in my head), teaching American Sign Language to two different age groups, and all the other amazing stuff, I really can't wait to get back to teaching. Autumn, here I come!
In other news, I finally got my Pottermore welcome e-mail!
When it appeared in my inbox, I literally jumped out of my chair and went shrieking into the kitchen saying something to the effect of "It's HERE! My Pottermore e-mail! I'm MAGICAL!!!" Seriously. Best e-mail ever.
No spoilers will be in this post, so don't worry. I wouldn't do that to people.
I've completed the first book, and it was amazing. Being a die-hard Potterhead, just having some new HP related things, directly from Jo Rowling herself is amazing. Without saying any more, I just have to say that I can't wait for book two!
Of course, the question that seems to be looming over everyone's head is about the Sorting. I was so nervous and SO excited, so naturally when I reached that part, I was just a tiny bit nerved up. I've self-identified as a Slytherin since the age of 9, (over half my life, and over ten years), so I have some very strongly held attachments to the house of the snake.
I took ages to complete my Sorting test, because I wanted to give the honest answers SO badly without trying to skew the results (either subconsciously or not) in any direction. After agonizing over every question, I pressed the button to get my result, the screen changed over to a bright, brilliant and shining RED.
I was in shock. Gryffindor? The house that I've spent years of my life teasing? The one house that I said that I wouldn't be happy about getting into on Pottermore?
I'll admit it. I started crying.
After a while, I managed to pull myself together and began to come to terms with the fact that being placed in Gryffindor is not, in fact, a bad thing*, and that the fact that I've been sorted into a house that I didn't think I was in does not mean that my whole life was a lie.
Because of my Sorting, I've been taking a new, closer look at Gryffindor, as a house. Some of the stereotypically Gryffindor traits are not things that I hold very dear to my heart, but once I looked past the James Potter-esque contingency, I can see that Gryffindors are just as varied as I've been trying to convince everyone that Slytherins are.
So much of my time has been spent trying to convince people that Slytherins aren't all bad. There's a surprising amount of house prejudice out there, and the misconception of Slytherins as selfish, evil, manipulative, cold-hearted bastards who care for themselves first, foremost and only really bothers me. As soon as people find out that I am a Slytherin, I've had every reaction from people physically backing away from me, to giving me really odd looks and asking why I wanted to be a Slytherin, to telling me I'm "too nice" to be a Slytherin. I think it's absurd that you can be "too nice" to be a Slytherin, just as I think it's absurd that you can be "not nice enough" to be a Hufflepuff. People who are sorted into different houses are still just people, and they come in a variety of personalities.
We need to remember that we see the Harry Potter books from Harry's point of view, and that what he perceives is not going to be 100% accurate (can anyone remember his repeated accusations of Snape or Draco being behind everything that seems just a slight bit off?) and that Harry is a person, with his own experiences coloring his view of the world, including the houses at Hogwarts.
I've been trying to remember that (just like is true with Slytherins) there's not just one kind of Gryffindor. Remus Lupin, one of my favorite characters in the HP series is a Gryffindor. So I have to say that while I'm not exactly happy with where I got Sorted, I'm coming to terms with being a Heart Slytherin and a Pottermore Gryffindor. What a weird mix.
So thank you, J.K.R. Thank you for forcing me to look at myself differently, and for giving us HP fans even more to look forward to. Thank you for writing, and thank you for helping make people into readers.
I'll see you all on Pottermore.
~Whimsy
*Please understand that I have many friends who are Gryffindors, and I love them all dearly, it's just that's not where I saw myself being placed, and after living as a very proud and out-there Slytherin, it can feel not-particularly-fantastic to be told that you're playing quidditch for the other team, as it were.
P.S. If you're on Pottermore, feel free to add SilverSpell70, and if you do, leave me a comment here so I can know who you lovely people are. Cheers!
Sunday, September 4, 2011
Week Thirty-Five: My Last BEDA post, and a wrap-up of the Unschooling conference!
Written on September 2, my first day with power since the 28th. Still no internet, but flush toilets are working!
[Edit as of 9/4: Electricity is back, and so is the internet. everything's working again!]
The conference I went to was utterly fantastic. I got to see some of my friends who I haven't seen since last year, and I got to meet some new friends who are equally amazing as the ones who I already know.
It was five days of hanging around with the most supportive, creative, and really genuinely nice people I can think of.
As it is usually, my conference was a mix of games, thoughtful conversations, music, and silliness. I did end up speaking on the panel, and I have to say that it was absolutely nerve-wracking, and I really can't see myself doing that again. My fellow panelists were amazing, and were great about letting me take the microphone and shove it into their hands when I couldn't answer the question we were asked. If either of you are reading this, please know that I am so grateful for how nice you were to me.
I did end up preforming at the talent show, in two different acts. I played and sung Here Comes My Baby as a solo act, and then I did a duet with my friend where we sung On The Rise from Doctor Horrible's Sing Along Blog. I have video of both those performances, and I'll probably upload them to YouTube and post them here when I get internet back again.
One night, we decided to learn how to dance Thriller, and I have to say, I have never had so much fun learning a dance. (Also, there's a LOT of pelvic thrusting that goes on in that dance.) We all got together and did Thriller together at the dance, and there was a group of maybe...15 people, all zombie-walking in synch. So. Cool.
Of course, just like last year, there was a LOT of playing Werewolf...and staying up to un-godly hours. It's also my one year anniversary of starting to learn sign, and it was SO helpful (and awesome) to be able to sit there in person and have a whole conversation with my ASL tutor and not even need to say a single word. It really showed me how far I had come in a year.
Going to this conference is rejuvenating. When every one of my age peers are getting ready to go to college, or finish up high school, or do something very school-related, it's nice to have a reminder that I'm not the only one who's continuing on this (admittedly radical) path.
It's hard to believe that I won't see a LOT of these people until next year, but I've made promises that we'll keep in touch on the computer, and for some of them, promises that we'll actually see each other in person more than once a year.
The worst part of the whole conference is giving everyone hugs and then walking away to your own car. I try not to become all melodramatic about it, but I couldn't resist literally hanging on to one of my friend's ankles when we had to leave him. Goodbyes suck. A lot.
At the same time, I know it's not a final goodbye, just more of a "see you again". Next year, it'll start all over again. A wonderful conglomeration of hugging, dances, late nights, games, conversations, new experiences, community, art, music, laughter, support, bravery, connections, and most of all, joy.
~Whimsy
[Edit as of 9/4: Electricity is back, and so is the internet. everything's working again!]
The conference I went to was utterly fantastic. I got to see some of my friends who I haven't seen since last year, and I got to meet some new friends who are equally amazing as the ones who I already know.
It was five days of hanging around with the most supportive, creative, and really genuinely nice people I can think of.
As it is usually, my conference was a mix of games, thoughtful conversations, music, and silliness. I did end up speaking on the panel, and I have to say that it was absolutely nerve-wracking, and I really can't see myself doing that again. My fellow panelists were amazing, and were great about letting me take the microphone and shove it into their hands when I couldn't answer the question we were asked. If either of you are reading this, please know that I am so grateful for how nice you were to me.
I did end up preforming at the talent show, in two different acts. I played and sung Here Comes My Baby as a solo act, and then I did a duet with my friend where we sung On The Rise from Doctor Horrible's Sing Along Blog. I have video of both those performances, and I'll probably upload them to YouTube and post them here when I get internet back again.
One night, we decided to learn how to dance Thriller, and I have to say, I have never had so much fun learning a dance. (Also, there's a LOT of pelvic thrusting that goes on in that dance.) We all got together and did Thriller together at the dance, and there was a group of maybe...15 people, all zombie-walking in synch. So. Cool.
Of course, just like last year, there was a LOT of playing Werewolf...and staying up to un-godly hours. It's also my one year anniversary of starting to learn sign, and it was SO helpful (and awesome) to be able to sit there in person and have a whole conversation with my ASL tutor and not even need to say a single word. It really showed me how far I had come in a year.
Going to this conference is rejuvenating. When every one of my age peers are getting ready to go to college, or finish up high school, or do something very school-related, it's nice to have a reminder that I'm not the only one who's continuing on this (admittedly radical) path.
It's hard to believe that I won't see a LOT of these people until next year, but I've made promises that we'll keep in touch on the computer, and for some of them, promises that we'll actually see each other in person more than once a year.
The worst part of the whole conference is giving everyone hugs and then walking away to your own car. I try not to become all melodramatic about it, but I couldn't resist literally hanging on to one of my friend's ankles when we had to leave him. Goodbyes suck. A lot.
At the same time, I know it's not a final goodbye, just more of a "see you again". Next year, it'll start all over again. A wonderful conglomeration of hugging, dances, late nights, games, conversations, new experiences, community, art, music, laughter, support, bravery, connections, and most of all, joy.
~Whimsy
Saturday, September 3, 2011
Failure, but not really.
Written on September 2, 2011.
Well, as you can most certainly tell, I failed BEDA. However, it was not for lack of trying on my part.
You see, I live in an area that pretty much got the crap kicked out of it by Tropical Storm Irene. Because of Irene, my family ended up staying an extra day at the hotel. Frankly, I wasn't complaining about that, because I got to go to the picnic on Monday, and spend more time with my friends who I rarely get to see.
When we finally made it home on Monday night, it was to a house without electric lights, flush toilets, a way to cook, keep food cold, running water for a shower, a telephone, and yes...no internet either. Prior to that time, I was feeling pretty good about BEDA, since I had written an extra blog so that if I was tired on Monday, I wouldn't have to worry about failing this project.
On the way home from the conference, it was abundantly clear as to WHY we had no power. Everywhere I looked, trees had collapsed on power lines, sometimes blocking an entire road. And I'm not exaggerating when I say you could not go a quarter of a mile down pretty much any given road before you saw another tree, upended on power lines. Driving around at night was particularly weird. No traffic lights, no friendly glow from people's living rooms, no street lamps, no floodlights on front lawns, just...nothing. After arriving home that first night, we all sort of stopped and stared at the sky. I'm telling you, it has never been so clear, and I have never seen so many stars. It was beautiful.
One of my mothers, Nay works for the power company, and she's still working 6am-10pm every day, trying to fix all the damage from Irene. At first, my town didn't have a single person with power. We were 100% dark. And we weren't the only ones, by far. As of yesterday, there isn't a single town in my state that is completely up and running.
I have to say, despite the fact that we didn't have any of the conveniences that we were used to, it wasn't all horrible. In fact, we actually had company staying with us until Wednesday. A couple of friends came back from the conference with us, and we had a lovely time. Hauling water from the brook to flush the toilet with wasn't fun, but sitting around a campfire and playing guitar, squeezebox and eating baked potatoes with friends certainly was. Our days were filled with music that we made ourselves, flying kites, wonderful conversations, and meals eaten by candle-light.
When something like this happens, it really shows you how many people care. We've had some really wonderful people who have brought us food, water, and let us use their showers.
I'm so grateful for my friends, my family, and above all, running water and flush toilets.
~Whimsy
Well, as you can most certainly tell, I failed BEDA. However, it was not for lack of trying on my part.
You see, I live in an area that pretty much got the crap kicked out of it by Tropical Storm Irene. Because of Irene, my family ended up staying an extra day at the hotel. Frankly, I wasn't complaining about that, because I got to go to the picnic on Monday, and spend more time with my friends who I rarely get to see.
When we finally made it home on Monday night, it was to a house without electric lights, flush toilets, a way to cook, keep food cold, running water for a shower, a telephone, and yes...no internet either. Prior to that time, I was feeling pretty good about BEDA, since I had written an extra blog so that if I was tired on Monday, I wouldn't have to worry about failing this project.
On the way home from the conference, it was abundantly clear as to WHY we had no power. Everywhere I looked, trees had collapsed on power lines, sometimes blocking an entire road. And I'm not exaggerating when I say you could not go a quarter of a mile down pretty much any given road before you saw another tree, upended on power lines. Driving around at night was particularly weird. No traffic lights, no friendly glow from people's living rooms, no street lamps, no floodlights on front lawns, just...nothing. After arriving home that first night, we all sort of stopped and stared at the sky. I'm telling you, it has never been so clear, and I have never seen so many stars. It was beautiful.
One of my mothers, Nay works for the power company, and she's still working 6am-10pm every day, trying to fix all the damage from Irene. At first, my town didn't have a single person with power. We were 100% dark. And we weren't the only ones, by far. As of yesterday, there isn't a single town in my state that is completely up and running.
I have to say, despite the fact that we didn't have any of the conveniences that we were used to, it wasn't all horrible. In fact, we actually had company staying with us until Wednesday. A couple of friends came back from the conference with us, and we had a lovely time. Hauling water from the brook to flush the toilet with wasn't fun, but sitting around a campfire and playing guitar, squeezebox and eating baked potatoes with friends certainly was. Our days were filled with music that we made ourselves, flying kites, wonderful conversations, and meals eaten by candle-light.
When something like this happens, it really shows you how many people care. We've had some really wonderful people who have brought us food, water, and let us use their showers.
I'm so grateful for my friends, my family, and above all, running water and flush toilets.
~Whimsy
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Week Thirty-Four: Wibbly-Wobbly-Posty-Wosty
Greetings and salutations.
As I did last year, I'm putting together one more blog post than I think I'll need, simply because I get home from the conference completely worn out and very, very happy.
So here we are.
At the time you're reading this, it's August 28th. There are just 4 days left until BEDA is over. This month just flew by.
I'm going in for my first read-through tomorrow for Leading Ladies. It'll be interesting to see who else is in the cast, and to get a better idea of my line load and who Aunt Florence is as a character.
At the time I'm writing this, I have to pack up EVERYTHING for the conference that, at the time YOU'RE reading this, I've just gotten home from, far to tired to actually post a blog that makes an ounce of sense.
Now, as I'm writing this, I have roughly five zillion things to do and no time to do them in.
I must run, and I will write to you all tomorrow (for you) and in four days (for me).
I feel a bit like a Time Lord, actually. You think my posts are all linear, but really they're more like wibbly-wobbly posty-wosty...stuff.
Until we meet again,
Whimsy
As I did last year, I'm putting together one more blog post than I think I'll need, simply because I get home from the conference completely worn out and very, very happy.
So here we are.
At the time you're reading this, it's August 28th. There are just 4 days left until BEDA is over. This month just flew by.
I'm going in for my first read-through tomorrow for Leading Ladies. It'll be interesting to see who else is in the cast, and to get a better idea of my line load and who Aunt Florence is as a character.
At the time I'm writing this, I have to pack up EVERYTHING for the conference that, at the time YOU'RE reading this, I've just gotten home from, far to tired to actually post a blog that makes an ounce of sense.
Now, as I'm writing this, I have roughly five zillion things to do and no time to do them in.
I must run, and I will write to you all tomorrow (for you) and in four days (for me).
I feel a bit like a Time Lord, actually. You think my posts are all linear, but really they're more like wibbly-wobbly posty-wosty...stuff.
Until we meet again,
Whimsy
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Tragic Characters: a post I'd like you to read.
A friend of mine, Sarah (@NotReallyDaria) just tweeted and asked why we're drawn to tragic characters.
I just might have an answer for her.
The reason why I, personally like tragic characters is because I feel sorry for them. That's not the only reason, but I think it helps a lot. It puts your sympathies with that character, and from that point on, you're on "their side", as it were.
We feel bad for the character, and the more crap that gets dumped on them, the more we feel bad for them, and the more we like them. That's why we always root for the underdog. It's not interesting to have a character for whom everything goes right.
Let's take Snape, for instance. He's a tragic character if there EVER was one. Our hearts go out to this poor man for what he's suffered through, and we start to forgive him for the bad decisions he's made. We allow him leniency, because of what happened to him.
I, personally actively dislike characters who are perfect. People aren't perfect, and shouldn't expect them to be. Show the flaws, the not-quite-so-pretty parts. Show that there's more to your character than ingrained goodness, and allow us to feel like she's real. Don't make him a person I can't relate to, give him something that makes me say, "yes. I believe that you exist, if only for a moment, and only on this page".
Characters with tragedy give us even more to sympathize with, and we find them fascinating because of that. We wonder what we'd be like in that situation, if only subconsciously, and we spend our time hoping that they'll be able to get themselves out of whatever pit they're in.
Either that, or we watch as they fall further and further, unable to help and pull the character that we've become attached to out from the horrible mess that they've gotten themselves into. Either way, we can't look away, because we've gotten emotionally invested from the all this crap that was dumped on the poor character in the beginning.
So I think that's why. It's partly that we get drawn to the in the first place, out of pity, or something like it, and then it becomes that we're drawn in. We remain attached.
I hope that answered your question, Sarah.
~Whimsy
P.S. If there's anything that you'd like to hear my thoughts on/topics to blog about, by all means, please leave them in the comments!
I just might have an answer for her.
The reason why I, personally like tragic characters is because I feel sorry for them. That's not the only reason, but I think it helps a lot. It puts your sympathies with that character, and from that point on, you're on "their side", as it were.
We feel bad for the character, and the more crap that gets dumped on them, the more we feel bad for them, and the more we like them. That's why we always root for the underdog. It's not interesting to have a character for whom everything goes right.
Let's take Snape, for instance. He's a tragic character if there EVER was one. Our hearts go out to this poor man for what he's suffered through, and we start to forgive him for the bad decisions he's made. We allow him leniency, because of what happened to him.
I, personally actively dislike characters who are perfect. People aren't perfect, and shouldn't expect them to be. Show the flaws, the not-quite-so-pretty parts. Show that there's more to your character than ingrained goodness, and allow us to feel like she's real. Don't make him a person I can't relate to, give him something that makes me say, "yes. I believe that you exist, if only for a moment, and only on this page".
Characters with tragedy give us even more to sympathize with, and we find them fascinating because of that. We wonder what we'd be like in that situation, if only subconsciously, and we spend our time hoping that they'll be able to get themselves out of whatever pit they're in.
Either that, or we watch as they fall further and further, unable to help and pull the character that we've become attached to out from the horrible mess that they've gotten themselves into. Either way, we can't look away, because we've gotten emotionally invested from the all this crap that was dumped on the poor character in the beginning.
So I think that's why. It's partly that we get drawn to the in the first place, out of pity, or something like it, and then it becomes that we're drawn in. We remain attached.
I hope that answered your question, Sarah.
~Whimsy
P.S. If there's anything that you'd like to hear my thoughts on/topics to blog about, by all means, please leave them in the comments!
Friday, August 26, 2011
Writing accidents.
My online identity has really became a part of me. You know how I know this? Well, the a few weeks ago, I had a celebration* at my house, and we ask everyone to mark their cups.
So I pick up the sharpie, uncap it and write Whimsy with a florish. And when I say I wrote Whimsy, I mean I wrote it instead of my name. Yes, I have officially become Whimsy, even in my offline life.
I only did it once, but I did it with such confidence, that was what was funny. I did go back, after I noticed and write my given name in front of Whimsy.
Have any of you done that, or something like that?
Still at the unschooler's conference, playing guitar with friends and staying up until 3am playing card games...
~Whimsy
* This was for Lughnassadh, one of the 8 Sabbats on the pagan wheel of the year.
So I pick up the sharpie, uncap it and write Whimsy with a florish. And when I say I wrote Whimsy, I mean I wrote it instead of my name. Yes, I have officially become Whimsy, even in my offline life.
I only did it once, but I did it with such confidence, that was what was funny. I did go back, after I noticed and write my given name in front of Whimsy.
Have any of you done that, or something like that?
Still at the unschooler's conference, playing guitar with friends and staying up until 3am playing card games...
~Whimsy
* This was for Lughnassadh, one of the 8 Sabbats on the pagan wheel of the year.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Whimsy Speaks!
Hello! While you're reading this, I will be off at my annual unschooler's conference.
There's something so affirming about being with people who don't challenge your life, who just support you for who you are, and the conference is one of those places.
This year, for the first time, I will be speaking in front of a whole TON of people. This is both terrifying and amazing. I'm terrified because talking without a script, out in front of a bunch of people is scary.
The panel I'm speaking on is called "Ask a Grown Unschooler", where people can ask me (and some other amazing people as well) questions about what our plans are for the future, what we liked about being unschooled, and anything else they can think of.
Now, as much as I love being onstage (oh, and I do...SO MUCH), it's nervous-making to go up there and be myself. Just Whimsy, no hiding behind a script. I'm sure that says something about me, but I'm just more comfortable with pre-determined words.
So, wish me luck, my friends! I'll be sure to tell you all about the conference when I get back!
~Whimsy
There's something so affirming about being with people who don't challenge your life, who just support you for who you are, and the conference is one of those places.
This year, for the first time, I will be speaking in front of a whole TON of people. This is both terrifying and amazing. I'm terrified because talking without a script, out in front of a bunch of people is scary.
The panel I'm speaking on is called "Ask a Grown Unschooler", where people can ask me (and some other amazing people as well) questions about what our plans are for the future, what we liked about being unschooled, and anything else they can think of.
Now, as much as I love being onstage (oh, and I do...SO MUCH), it's nervous-making to go up there and be myself. Just Whimsy, no hiding behind a script. I'm sure that says something about me, but I'm just more comfortable with pre-determined words.
So, wish me luck, my friends! I'll be sure to tell you all about the conference when I get back!
~Whimsy
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Ready!
Hello, hello, hello!
I have very big and exciting news. My mum has had a scare, recently, regarding her throat and neck, just received the news that all tests are good, and wonderful, and there is no cancer. It's been worrying all of us, and I am so beyond happy that everything turned out well. It's been pretty stressful.
Tomorrow, I am leaving for a conference. Frankly, I'm so excited that I can't stand it, but also a little nervous. I know it's a bit silly that I'm nervous, but firstly, social situations always make me a bit uneasy, and secondly, I haven't seen many of these people in a year, so I get worried about whether I'll reconnect with them.
I'm actually going to be speaking on a panel at the conference this time around, called "Ask A Grown Unschooler". That's also a bit nervous making, but I'm excited too.
Most of all, I'm just happy to be going back. Ready to spend time with my old friends and make new ones. Ready to play cards, Werewolf, Bananagrams, and pick-up-sticks. Ready to stay up late, dance to music, dress up in costumes. Ready to not be judged for my educational choices and background.
I am SO ready for this conference.
~Whimsy
I have very big and exciting news. My mum has had a scare, recently, regarding her throat and neck, just received the news that all tests are good, and wonderful, and there is no cancer. It's been worrying all of us, and I am so beyond happy that everything turned out well. It's been pretty stressful.
Tomorrow, I am leaving for a conference. Frankly, I'm so excited that I can't stand it, but also a little nervous. I know it's a bit silly that I'm nervous, but firstly, social situations always make me a bit uneasy, and secondly, I haven't seen many of these people in a year, so I get worried about whether I'll reconnect with them.
I'm actually going to be speaking on a panel at the conference this time around, called "Ask A Grown Unschooler". That's also a bit nervous making, but I'm excited too.
Most of all, I'm just happy to be going back. Ready to spend time with my old friends and make new ones. Ready to play cards, Werewolf, Bananagrams, and pick-up-sticks. Ready to stay up late, dance to music, dress up in costumes. Ready to not be judged for my educational choices and background.
I am SO ready for this conference.
~Whimsy
The results of auditions, plus what I look like now.
So I auditioned today (and yesterday), and I got a call tonight.
Annndddddd...I'm in the show, playing a old auntie-type lady. Her name is Florence, and the first read-through is Monday. HUZZAH!
This is going to be BEYOND hilarious!
Must go, tons to do, sleep to be had, blogs to queue up in preperation for leaving for the unschooler's conference on Thursday.
SO FREAKING EXCITED, CANNOT SIT STILL.
Because this post is a bit small, I'll leave you with a photo of me, taken today.
Talk to you tomorrow, tootle pip,
~Whimsy
Annndddddd...I'm in the show, playing a old auntie-type lady. Her name is Florence, and the first read-through is Monday. HUZZAH!
This is going to be BEYOND hilarious!
Must go, tons to do, sleep to be had, blogs to queue up in preperation for leaving for the unschooler's conference on Thursday.
SO FREAKING EXCITED, CANNOT SIT STILL.
Because this post is a bit small, I'll leave you with a photo of me, taken today.
Talk to you tomorrow, tootle pip,
~Whimsy
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Week Thirty-Three: Chain Letters
You know those chain photos/comments that go around? The ones that say “reblog/repost this to save yourself/your best friend/your mother from a horrible death/bad luck/a disease”? I want to know something.
How did they realize that reblogging/reposting made them safe? Did the spirit tell them? My god, I’d hate to be on the trial and error tests for that.
“Well, turning around in 17 counter-clockwise circles didn’t work. Too bad about Jim…he was a good one, too. Looks like we’ll try 18 counter-clockwise circles on the next one, poor guy.”
“Nathan, we just got another one dead over here. I think it’s been 146 minutes since he said he didn’t want that peanut butter sandwich, so chalk that on the possible theories list.”
“Angie’s staying strong, and all she’s doing is Tumbling. She just reblogged four things, so we’ll have to look into the correlations between not getting struck dead and cat videos, Karen Gillian photos, Queen lyrics and this one really creepy-ass photo of some face in a closet behind two kids.”
How did they realize that reblogging/reposting made them safe? Did the spirit tell them? My god, I’d hate to be on the trial and error tests for that.
“Well, turning around in 17 counter-clockwise circles didn’t work. Too bad about Jim…he was a good one, too. Looks like we’ll try 18 counter-clockwise circles on the next one, poor guy.”
“Nathan, we just got another one dead over here. I think it’s been 146 minutes since he said he didn’t want that peanut butter sandwich, so chalk that on the possible theories list.”
“Angie’s staying strong, and all she’s doing is Tumbling. She just reblogged four things, so we’ll have to look into the correlations between not getting struck dead and cat videos, Karen Gillian photos, Queen lyrics and this one really creepy-ass photo of some face in a closet behind two kids.”
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Windsurfing and ice cream trucks!
Yesterday, I went windsurfing, and let me tell you, it is a LOT harder than it looks. I am sore in about 3 million places now, but it was FUN.
Pulling the sail up is probably the most painful part, but gliding along on top of the water, propelled by nothing but the wind is just so COOL.
Getting to the point where you're actually gilding decently, though...that's where the difficulty comes in. It's a lot of breaking your back pulling up a sail and then getting unbalanced and dropping the sail, and then pulling it up, and then the wind catches the sail and you lose control of the board, and you go falling in.
We sailed for about 2 hours, but it felt like an entire day. I'm not saying that I regret doing it, because I don't, not at all, but I was ready for a nap afterwards, I'll say that.
Also, for the first time in living memory, I had ice cream from an ice cream truck. I live in a very rural area, so the ice cream truck never came down my road when I was little, and although Mum says that I had ice cream truck ice cream when we went to a pond a few times, but I have no memory of that.
Regardless, I had an ice cream cookie sandwich, and it was GOOD. That could be because I was starving hungry after windsurfing, or it could be because it was actually GOOD.
Now I must go, I have songs to play, people to hug, auditions to practice for, and books to read.
~Whimsy
Pulling the sail up is probably the most painful part, but gliding along on top of the water, propelled by nothing but the wind is just so COOL.
Getting to the point where you're actually gilding decently, though...that's where the difficulty comes in. It's a lot of breaking your back pulling up a sail and then getting unbalanced and dropping the sail, and then pulling it up, and then the wind catches the sail and you lose control of the board, and you go falling in.
We sailed for about 2 hours, but it felt like an entire day. I'm not saying that I regret doing it, because I don't, not at all, but I was ready for a nap afterwards, I'll say that.
Also, for the first time in living memory, I had ice cream from an ice cream truck. I live in a very rural area, so the ice cream truck never came down my road when I was little, and although Mum says that I had ice cream truck ice cream when we went to a pond a few times, but I have no memory of that.
Regardless, I had an ice cream cookie sandwich, and it was GOOD. That could be because I was starving hungry after windsurfing, or it could be because it was actually GOOD.
Now I must go, I have songs to play, people to hug, auditions to practice for, and books to read.
~Whimsy
Saturday, August 20, 2011
100th post and thoughts about the end of summer.
I can safely say that it's the end-ish of the summer, and my huge list of summer projects that I attempted are all firmly unfinished. That's really okay, though, because I feel like I gained something much better than the experience of watching all the x-men movies.
I think that every time in your life can bring some new things that you learn, and some things that you re-learn. This summer, what I gained can't really be measured in anything quantifiable, but rather a series of smaller things.
Most importantly, I think I learned that sometimes, the most important thing is to just throw your hands in the air and just DO IT.
That's more important than anything I could have looked for at the beginning of this summer, anyway.
And you know what? This is my 100th post, and I just recently hit 25 followers. Thank you. All of you. Thank you for reading, for commenting, for following , for everything.
I think that every time in your life can bring some new things that you learn, and some things that you re-learn. This summer, what I gained can't really be measured in anything quantifiable, but rather a series of smaller things.
Most importantly, I think I learned that sometimes, the most important thing is to just throw your hands in the air and just DO IT.
That's more important than anything I could have looked for at the beginning of this summer, anyway.
And you know what? This is my 100th post, and I just recently hit 25 followers. Thank you. All of you. Thank you for reading, for commenting, for following , for everything.
Friday, August 19, 2011
Auditions
So, I decided to audition for my first show since last September! The last time I was onstage in a show that I didn't do with the kids that I teach was back in April 2010, and my god do I miss it...
I'm sitting here, pouring over audition materials, doing research on Marlon Brando's voice and trying to figure out when is a good time in auditions to tell my prospective director that my bright green dramatically angled haircut can be swapped out for a more normal hairdo.
I also have to update my theatre resume, the contents of which will finally spill over onto a second page (and I will give three cheers).
Auditions are nervewracking. I think it's mostly because you're getting up in front of a bunch of people and saying "go on, judge me". I want to get up there and blow my prospective director away, make her know that I will work my ass of, make her know that I will be easy to work with, that I can and will do whatever she wants me to do without complaint, and that I will pour myself into whatever character I am cast as.
It's very much like asking somebody to take a chance on you, to trust that what you can bring to the table is wonderful and worth it.
Madam director, I'll see you on Monday, primed and ready. I'll be bringing everything I've got.
~Whimsy
I'm sitting here, pouring over audition materials, doing research on Marlon Brando's voice and trying to figure out when is a good time in auditions to tell my prospective director that my bright green dramatically angled haircut can be swapped out for a more normal hairdo.
I also have to update my theatre resume, the contents of which will finally spill over onto a second page (and I will give three cheers).
Auditions are nervewracking. I think it's mostly because you're getting up in front of a bunch of people and saying "go on, judge me". I want to get up there and blow my prospective director away, make her know that I will work my ass of, make her know that I will be easy to work with, that I can and will do whatever she wants me to do without complaint, and that I will pour myself into whatever character I am cast as.
It's very much like asking somebody to take a chance on you, to trust that what you can bring to the table is wonderful and worth it.
Madam director, I'll see you on Monday, primed and ready. I'll be bringing everything I've got.
~Whimsy
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Horcruxes and "writing what you know".
I've talked before about how much I love stories, so it should come as no surprise that (since NaNoWriMo is coming up), I'm thinking about stories again.
"They" always say to write what you know. Now, I'm going to go out on a limb and say that's just a little bit rubbish.
If we only wrote what we know, we'd be cut of from whole genres of stories. There simply wouldn't be any fantasy or sci-fi. It wouldn't exist. Harry Potter never would have been written* if Jo just wrote "what she knew".
Jumping off from that, what about all the people who write characters who's gender differs from the author? They aren't writing "what they know". How about authors who differ from their characters in political belief, personal history, location, personality, sexual orientation, age, culture, family history, or interests? Just a guess, but I'd have to say that most authors differ from their characters in one of those ways or more.
And you know what? I'm profoundly glad that people don't write "what they know". What a boring selection of literature we would have, if they did.
Drawing on your own personal experiences while writing, however, is wonderful tool. Jo may not have been a a wizard herself, but there are traits she shares with Harry, and that brings a realisim to him. I think you can put some of yourself into whoever you're writing without making the character a Mary Sue.
In a way, writing is like making a Horcrux. Every time you do it, you tuck a little piece of your soul into what you've created. But instead of it making you weaker and less human, it does the opposite.
If I had to write just what I knew, I could only write one story. The story of my life. I want to tell other stories, stories that I may not have lived, but are still important.
So go on. Get a pen, a pencil, a blank white sheet of paper, a keyboard, a word document and join me.
Let's write what we don't know, so we can understand ourselves and the world better.
After all, NaNoWriMo starts in just 74 days!
~Whimsy
* This does discount the theory that Jo is actually a member of the wizarding world, something that I would not be totally surprised about, to be honest.
"They" always say to write what you know. Now, I'm going to go out on a limb and say that's just a little bit rubbish.
If we only wrote what we know, we'd be cut of from whole genres of stories. There simply wouldn't be any fantasy or sci-fi. It wouldn't exist. Harry Potter never would have been written* if Jo just wrote "what she knew".
Jumping off from that, what about all the people who write characters who's gender differs from the author? They aren't writing "what they know". How about authors who differ from their characters in political belief, personal history, location, personality, sexual orientation, age, culture, family history, or interests? Just a guess, but I'd have to say that most authors differ from their characters in one of those ways or more.
And you know what? I'm profoundly glad that people don't write "what they know". What a boring selection of literature we would have, if they did.
Drawing on your own personal experiences while writing, however, is wonderful tool. Jo may not have been a a wizard herself, but there are traits she shares with Harry, and that brings a realisim to him. I think you can put some of yourself into whoever you're writing without making the character a Mary Sue.
In a way, writing is like making a Horcrux. Every time you do it, you tuck a little piece of your soul into what you've created. But instead of it making you weaker and less human, it does the opposite.
If I had to write just what I knew, I could only write one story. The story of my life. I want to tell other stories, stories that I may not have lived, but are still important.
So go on. Get a pen, a pencil, a blank white sheet of paper, a keyboard, a word document and join me.
Let's write what we don't know, so we can understand ourselves and the world better.
After all, NaNoWriMo starts in just 74 days!
~Whimsy
* This does discount the theory that Jo is actually a member of the wizarding world, something that I would not be totally surprised about, to be honest.
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
School
I want to start out by saying that I know that I'm really behind with replying to comments. I litterally have had no time at all.
But enough excuses, let's have a proper blog post.
Since it's getting to be that time again, shall we talk about school? I think we shall.
When I was really young, I didn't really pay attention to the fact that school was starting up again. It was simply something that was keeping me from seeing my schooled friends, something that meant that I couldn't see my friends in the middle of a weekday.
As I grew older and began to pay more attention, back to school time became weirder and weirder. I distinctly remember one day, while grocery shopping with my mom, I looked around the store and saw that there was nobody my own age in the store. You don't know how weird it is to suddenly look up and realize that you're living in a world without any children. It's unnerving.
As the years went by, the annoyance with the fact that my friend's school was cutting into my social life combined with the fact that (once you hit a certain age), people sort of look at you funny when you say that you're not in school.
They begin to think that it's okay to ask you some really rude questions. Yes, I know that most of this is from being misinformed, but yikes. I've had people ask me what was wrong with me, if I was stupid, or more often than not, just sort of nod and go "well, how 'bout that".
Now, I don't mind being asked questions, but it's when people start to blatently judge me is when I can't handle it.
As I grew older, there was one thing and one thing only that made me jealous of my schooled peers. School/office supply shopping. I know that sounds silly, but it's true.
I could spend hours in office supply stores and be perfectly happy.
This would not be weird if I liked shopping, which I most certainly do not.
Anyway, it's strange.
I'm off to eat soup, talk again tomorrow!
~Whimsy
But enough excuses, let's have a proper blog post.
Since it's getting to be that time again, shall we talk about school? I think we shall.
When I was really young, I didn't really pay attention to the fact that school was starting up again. It was simply something that was keeping me from seeing my schooled friends, something that meant that I couldn't see my friends in the middle of a weekday.
As I grew older and began to pay more attention, back to school time became weirder and weirder. I distinctly remember one day, while grocery shopping with my mom, I looked around the store and saw that there was nobody my own age in the store. You don't know how weird it is to suddenly look up and realize that you're living in a world without any children. It's unnerving.
As the years went by, the annoyance with the fact that my friend's school was cutting into my social life combined with the fact that (once you hit a certain age), people sort of look at you funny when you say that you're not in school.
They begin to think that it's okay to ask you some really rude questions. Yes, I know that most of this is from being misinformed, but yikes. I've had people ask me what was wrong with me, if I was stupid, or more often than not, just sort of nod and go "well, how 'bout that".
Now, I don't mind being asked questions, but it's when people start to blatently judge me is when I can't handle it.
As I grew older, there was one thing and one thing only that made me jealous of my schooled peers. School/office supply shopping. I know that sounds silly, but it's true.
I could spend hours in office supply stores and be perfectly happy.
This would not be weird if I liked shopping, which I most certainly do not.
Anyway, it's strange.
I'm off to eat soup, talk again tomorrow!
~Whimsy
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Someone is eating my August.
I have no idea what's happening, but someone is eating my August.
Today alone, I went with Mum to a followup for her surgery yesterday, swung by a beauty supply store for hair dye for my sister, went back to the house for lunch, stopped by a theatre to pick up audition materials for me, headed to the library for a few hours (appt for sister), and to wrap it up, ended up live broadcasting the town hall's selectman's meeting.
After that, we headed back home for supper and then watched Doctor Horrible's Sing-Along Blog with the fambly. Inbetween all that, somehow I have managed to re-read the Last Herald-Mage Trilogy.
I guess that's why I'm not sure that I'm going to audition for the show that's coming up. I mean, I love theatre, more than almost anything else. I love getting onstage, learning lines, getting fitted for costumes, hearing the audience's laughter, the camraderie of the actors, the applause*, and more than anything, making something happen that wasn't there before.
I'd love to audition. I'd love to get cast. I'd love to pour my heart and soul into a character, to spend every waking moment thinking about the show, to attend rehearsals 2, 3, 4 times a week.
However, I do have a job. A job that very possibly can end up conflicting with my ability to put everything I have into this show. A job that I love. A job that I want to do, that makes me happy, that I would hate to have to skive out of to go to rehearsals.
I suppose I'll continue on thinking about this, and maybe I'll have something figured out by the time auditions start.
Ever yours in my perpetual state of confusion,
~Whimsy
P.S. Happy halfway through the month!
*I know it sounds cliche, and kind of like an snobby sort of thing to say, but I really do. I'm an actor. What can I say?
Today alone, I went with Mum to a followup for her surgery yesterday, swung by a beauty supply store for hair dye for my sister, went back to the house for lunch, stopped by a theatre to pick up audition materials for me, headed to the library for a few hours (appt for sister), and to wrap it up, ended up live broadcasting the town hall's selectman's meeting.
After that, we headed back home for supper and then watched Doctor Horrible's Sing-Along Blog with the fambly. Inbetween all that, somehow I have managed to re-read the Last Herald-Mage Trilogy.
I guess that's why I'm not sure that I'm going to audition for the show that's coming up. I mean, I love theatre, more than almost anything else. I love getting onstage, learning lines, getting fitted for costumes, hearing the audience's laughter, the camraderie of the actors, the applause*, and more than anything, making something happen that wasn't there before.
I'd love to audition. I'd love to get cast. I'd love to pour my heart and soul into a character, to spend every waking moment thinking about the show, to attend rehearsals 2, 3, 4 times a week.
However, I do have a job. A job that very possibly can end up conflicting with my ability to put everything I have into this show. A job that I love. A job that I want to do, that makes me happy, that I would hate to have to skive out of to go to rehearsals.
I suppose I'll continue on thinking about this, and maybe I'll have something figured out by the time auditions start.
Ever yours in my perpetual state of confusion,
~Whimsy
P.S. Happy halfway through the month!
*I know it sounds cliche, and kind of like an snobby sort of thing to say, but I really do. I'm an actor. What can I say?
Monday, August 15, 2011
So, today was a thing.
This'll have to be a very quick post.
My mum had surgery today, so that was a very long and tense sort of day, filled with bad hospital cafeteria food.
High points of today included finding out that they actually run commercials for bananas on daytime telly, seeing the prequel for "Let's Kill Hitler", the upcoming episode of Doctor Who, and realizing that Pottermore invites are going out to people already, including people who got in on the third day, like I did. IT WON'T BE LONG NOW.
...right. Directly after I typed that, I closed out of my blogger tab, scanned my email and every other website I'm on, and then remembered I was doing something. >____<
I think that means something.
I must go. My people need me.
My mum had surgery today, so that was a very long and tense sort of day, filled with bad hospital cafeteria food.
High points of today included finding out that they actually run commercials for bananas on daytime telly, seeing the prequel for "Let's Kill Hitler", the upcoming episode of Doctor Who, and realizing that Pottermore invites are going out to people already, including people who got in on the third day, like I did. IT WON'T BE LONG NOW.
...right. Directly after I typed that, I closed out of my blogger tab, scanned my email and every other website I'm on, and then remembered I was doing something. >____<
I think that means something.
I must go. My people need me.
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Week Thirty-Two: Movies and suchlike!
Last night, my family decided to go out and see a double feature at the drive-in. Mum cooked up a delicious meal, we gathered blankets and pillows, chairs and chocolate (for dessert) and packed up the car.
As we did so, the sky got darker and darker, until it got to the point where we went back and checked the weather AGAIN (after seeing that there was not a drop of rain forecast until the next night), and sure enough, there it was. A %20 chance of rain.
As anyone who has gone to a drive-in knows, going in the rain is absolutely no fun at ALL, so we decided to play it safe and stay at home. Since we had planned to see a double feature of "Rise Of The Planet Of The Apes" and "Captain America", we settled on a double feature of our own. "Pricilla, Queen Of The Desert" and "Fall From Grace", a documentary on the Westboro Baptist Church.
Both films were really good, and as Pricilla went along, I grew to like it more and more. "Fall From Grace" was both facinating, educational and like watching a train wreck.
As much as I'd like to go into what I thought about the movies some more (and I might, with Pricilla), I have to run.
There are proposals to make up for the family theatre business, and the day is marching onward.
But before I go, a few questions:
Have you seen any of the movies that I mentioned?
What's your favorite film?
What's the best film you've seen lately? (Mine would have to be a documentary on crossdressing in film/on stage, I think. Too many options to choose from!)
Until tomorrow,
~Whimsy
As we did so, the sky got darker and darker, until it got to the point where we went back and checked the weather AGAIN (after seeing that there was not a drop of rain forecast until the next night), and sure enough, there it was. A %20 chance of rain.
As anyone who has gone to a drive-in knows, going in the rain is absolutely no fun at ALL, so we decided to play it safe and stay at home. Since we had planned to see a double feature of "Rise Of The Planet Of The Apes" and "Captain America", we settled on a double feature of our own. "Pricilla, Queen Of The Desert" and "Fall From Grace", a documentary on the Westboro Baptist Church.
Both films were really good, and as Pricilla went along, I grew to like it more and more. "Fall From Grace" was both facinating, educational and like watching a train wreck.
As much as I'd like to go into what I thought about the movies some more (and I might, with Pricilla), I have to run.
There are proposals to make up for the family theatre business, and the day is marching onward.
But before I go, a few questions:
Have you seen any of the movies that I mentioned?
What's your favorite film?
What's the best film you've seen lately? (Mine would have to be a documentary on crossdressing in film/on stage, I think. Too many options to choose from!)
Until tomorrow,
~Whimsy
Saturday, August 13, 2011
NaNoWriMo Is Coming!
Hello bloggians!
You know what's exciting? Getting books in the mail. A few days ago, I got online and ordered myself some items off of amazon. As you would expect, they were very Whimsy-like items. Two books and a jar of brilliantly green hair dye.
The books are the first and third in Mercedes Lackey's "Last Herald-Mage of Valdemar" series. I bought the second book in that series at a brick-and-mortar store, but they didn't have the other two, for some incredibly weird reason. The hair dye is for re-dying my hair...obviously.
Even though my hair is slowing fading from electric celery to that weird highlighter yellow-green and you can see a halo of dark brown hair close to my scalp, I still haven't gone and re-dyed.
And now, to divert suddenly from what we were talking about, and to neatly segueway into the fact that NaNoWriMo is coming. Dear lord, is it coming.
This time last year, I had come up with a few plot options, settled on one, created two great MC's, a HUGE supporting cast, pages on pages of plot outline, a fully fleshed out backstory, maps, character outlines, hand-drawn pictures of my MC's at ages 10 and 17, ten pages of timeline, everything was shoved into my Big Leather Folder Of Noveling Stuff and everything was looking fantastic.
This year, I have a nearly empty BLFONT, save for a few sheets of lined paper, some chords for a handful of songs, three different pens with three different uses, a temporary tatoo and a scrap of paper with a couple drawings on it (a good luck token from a friend).
I have no clue what I'm going to write about. The problem isn't not having any ideas, the problem is that there are TOO MANY options. How can you pick between genres (Historical fiction? Sci-Fi? Literary Fiction?) let alone sub-genres? (Sword and sorcery? Urban Fantasy? Steampunk?) And once you've figured that out, what about plot? There's too many ideas, and I can't pick between them.
There's also the question of whether or not I want to write in the same genre that I've written in before (YA realistic in 2009 and Fantasy in 2010). There are advantages to both options, so that's another problem.
With NaNoWriMo, as is with life, there can just be too many options to choose from.
Well, I'm off to create things, eat lunch, and do something spectacular with my day. What that spectacular thing is, I don't know.
See you tomorrow!
~Whimsy
You know what's exciting? Getting books in the mail. A few days ago, I got online and ordered myself some items off of amazon. As you would expect, they were very Whimsy-like items. Two books and a jar of brilliantly green hair dye.
The books are the first and third in Mercedes Lackey's "Last Herald-Mage of Valdemar" series. I bought the second book in that series at a brick-and-mortar store, but they didn't have the other two, for some incredibly weird reason. The hair dye is for re-dying my hair...obviously.
Even though my hair is slowing fading from electric celery to that weird highlighter yellow-green and you can see a halo of dark brown hair close to my scalp, I still haven't gone and re-dyed.
And now, to divert suddenly from what we were talking about, and to neatly segueway into the fact that NaNoWriMo is coming. Dear lord, is it coming.
This time last year, I had come up with a few plot options, settled on one, created two great MC's, a HUGE supporting cast, pages on pages of plot outline, a fully fleshed out backstory, maps, character outlines, hand-drawn pictures of my MC's at ages 10 and 17, ten pages of timeline, everything was shoved into my Big Leather Folder Of Noveling Stuff and everything was looking fantastic.
This year, I have a nearly empty BLFONT, save for a few sheets of lined paper, some chords for a handful of songs, three different pens with three different uses, a temporary tatoo and a scrap of paper with a couple drawings on it (a good luck token from a friend).
I have no clue what I'm going to write about. The problem isn't not having any ideas, the problem is that there are TOO MANY options. How can you pick between genres (Historical fiction? Sci-Fi? Literary Fiction?) let alone sub-genres? (Sword and sorcery? Urban Fantasy? Steampunk?) And once you've figured that out, what about plot? There's too many ideas, and I can't pick between them.
There's also the question of whether or not I want to write in the same genre that I've written in before (YA realistic in 2009 and Fantasy in 2010). There are advantages to both options, so that's another problem.
With NaNoWriMo, as is with life, there can just be too many options to choose from.
Well, I'm off to create things, eat lunch, and do something spectacular with my day. What that spectacular thing is, I don't know.
See you tomorrow!
~Whimsy
Friday, August 12, 2011
At the ballet.
Do you ever have one of those moments when it strikes you just how surreal your life is?
That happens to me a lot, actually. For instance, last night, I went to my second ever ballet. Beautiful dancing, the costumes were (very pink and sexist, but) pretty, and the strength and grace of the dancers is fantastic. Keep in mind, this is coming from the girl who regularly trips over her own feet.
So here I am, enjoying myself, and having a lovely night, when suddenly it hits me how surreal this is. I'm sitting in the front row at a ballet, and the ballet's music of choice?
Rick Astley.
Yes, you did read that right. Rick Astley, the singer of "Never Gonna Give You Up" and "Together Forever". Actually, the dance to "Never Gonna Give You Up" was really cool.
It's moments like those where I look around and just smile.
Life is weird, and I would never want it to change.
That happens to me a lot, actually. For instance, last night, I went to my second ever ballet. Beautiful dancing, the costumes were (very pink and sexist, but) pretty, and the strength and grace of the dancers is fantastic. Keep in mind, this is coming from the girl who regularly trips over her own feet.
So here I am, enjoying myself, and having a lovely night, when suddenly it hits me how surreal this is. I'm sitting in the front row at a ballet, and the ballet's music of choice?
Rick Astley.
Yes, you did read that right. Rick Astley, the singer of "Never Gonna Give You Up" and "Together Forever". Actually, the dance to "Never Gonna Give You Up" was really cool.
It's moments like those where I look around and just smile.
Life is weird, and I would never want it to change.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Life Lessons: A List
A short list of life lessons in no particular order.
* If you leave bleach in your hair for too long, yes, it WILL burn your scalp.
* Smiling at other people means that you're a lot more likely to get a smile back.
* It's far to easy to say "No" to new things because you're nervous.
* I am too delicate to handle intense books, and I don't need to be filling my head with frightening things...
* If you have a hard time fitting your hand into the opening of a jar, it will be twice as difficult getting your hand back out again.
* Spending your time wondering if other people think you're weird is a waste of time.
* Sometimes, people can't tell that you're being sarcastic. It's usually not a good idea to heap MORE sarcastic comments on top of that.
* If you have enough determination, an assortment of weird supplies and the ability to google instructions, it is impossible to be bored.
And on THAT note, have a charming day, you lot!
~Whimsy
* If you leave bleach in your hair for too long, yes, it WILL burn your scalp.
* Smiling at other people means that you're a lot more likely to get a smile back.
* It's far to easy to say "No" to new things because you're nervous.
* I am too delicate to handle intense books, and I don't need to be filling my head with frightening things...
* If you have a hard time fitting your hand into the opening of a jar, it will be twice as difficult getting your hand back out again.
* Spending your time wondering if other people think you're weird is a waste of time.
* Sometimes, people can't tell that you're being sarcastic. It's usually not a good idea to heap MORE sarcastic comments on top of that.
* If you have enough determination, an assortment of weird supplies and the ability to google instructions, it is impossible to be bored.
And on THAT note, have a charming day, you lot!
~Whimsy
Thoughts on Star Wars
After finally finishing the great epic known as Star Wars, I have decided to sit down and write up my thoughts about it.
First and foremost, I want to say that I did, in fact, like it.
And now, I will go on to tell you my thoughts in detail. Star Wars fans who take offense at anyone disliking a shred of the movies, you should stop reading this now. No, really. Stop here.
Also, people who don't like/don't care about Star Wars, you can stop here as well.
*ahem*
The amount of worldbuilding that went into those films is mindblowing. Leaving any other aspect out of it, the starships, space stations and other aircraft alone were just... O__O No words, just emoticons. That's not counting the actual different planets, the government, and the variety of species. Hats off for that one, I have to say.
I was pleasantly surprised with the special effects. They were better than I expected, and I have admittedly high standards. Technically, I found the films really quite enjoyable.
Now of course, there are things that I did not love. The lack of females, for one. Yes, I did see that there were some female Jedi, and females on the senate, but I'd have liked to have seen some more female main characters.
I did feel like the amount of OMG LET'S BLOW SHIT UP really overpowered any hope of really getting to know the characters. What I really look for when I immerse myself in a story is a connection with the characters, and when I don't get that, that really bothers me. I feel like I'm missing something, like the characters are still strangers, and I have to say, I still feel like most of the characters in Star Wars really remained strangers.
The exception would have to be Anakin. Despite the fact that I still feel like I could have known him better, I do feel like I knew him well enough.
I can see the massive popularity of Star Wars, for certain. The way that everything is wound up together is really quite amazing. There are MANY stories that don't wrap up their loose ends as well as Star Wars does.
The use of the Imperial March whenever Anakin does anything Dark Side-ish was very, very cool. The dun dun dun, dun da dun, dun da dun is CREEPY AS HELL when you're watching a decent into madness. (And it's also really sad, too. Poor Anakin, you're so mentally broken.)
Also, there was a lot of politics that I think I missed, so I look forward to re-watching them and really understanding the intricacies of what's going on politically in the Star Wars-verse. There's just so much going ON that I think it would take a good three watch-throughs to really catch it all.
I still come back to what I said before, I really missed to really be able to get to know the characters. I want to really delve into the characters, and I feel like that took a backseat to "ASPLODE ALL THE THINGS", "PUT IN ALL THE POLITICS" and "WE MUST HAVE THE BEST STARSHIPS EVAR".
Despite my critical commentary, I did very much enjoy them, and I can't believe that I went 19 years without seeing them.
~Whimsy
P.S. Here's a thank you to my mums for not only buying me the films for my birthday, but also watching them with me, even though Star Wars is not really your "thing". Really, this is more of a thank you for Mum on the watching end, since Nay slept through the whole set of 6 movies. A double thank you to you, Mum, for stifling your running commentary during the fight montages. "oh god...NO R2D2, NO! Run, run, run! He's RIGHT THERE. This is so intense. He's going to die. Don't die!"
First and foremost, I want to say that I did, in fact, like it.
And now, I will go on to tell you my thoughts in detail. Star Wars fans who take offense at anyone disliking a shred of the movies, you should stop reading this now. No, really. Stop here.
Also, people who don't like/don't care about Star Wars, you can stop here as well.
*ahem*
The amount of worldbuilding that went into those films is mindblowing. Leaving any other aspect out of it, the starships, space stations and other aircraft alone were just... O__O No words, just emoticons. That's not counting the actual different planets, the government, and the variety of species. Hats off for that one, I have to say.
I was pleasantly surprised with the special effects. They were better than I expected, and I have admittedly high standards. Technically, I found the films really quite enjoyable.
Now of course, there are things that I did not love. The lack of females, for one. Yes, I did see that there were some female Jedi, and females on the senate, but I'd have liked to have seen some more female main characters.
I did feel like the amount of OMG LET'S BLOW SHIT UP really overpowered any hope of really getting to know the characters. What I really look for when I immerse myself in a story is a connection with the characters, and when I don't get that, that really bothers me. I feel like I'm missing something, like the characters are still strangers, and I have to say, I still feel like most of the characters in Star Wars really remained strangers.
The exception would have to be Anakin. Despite the fact that I still feel like I could have known him better, I do feel like I knew him well enough.
I can see the massive popularity of Star Wars, for certain. The way that everything is wound up together is really quite amazing. There are MANY stories that don't wrap up their loose ends as well as Star Wars does.
The use of the Imperial March whenever Anakin does anything Dark Side-ish was very, very cool. The dun dun dun, dun da dun, dun da dun is CREEPY AS HELL when you're watching a decent into madness. (And it's also really sad, too. Poor Anakin, you're so mentally broken.)
Also, there was a lot of politics that I think I missed, so I look forward to re-watching them and really understanding the intricacies of what's going on politically in the Star Wars-verse. There's just so much going ON that I think it would take a good three watch-throughs to really catch it all.
I still come back to what I said before, I really missed to really be able to get to know the characters. I want to really delve into the characters, and I feel like that took a backseat to "ASPLODE ALL THE THINGS", "PUT IN ALL THE POLITICS" and "WE MUST HAVE THE BEST STARSHIPS EVAR".
Despite my critical commentary, I did very much enjoy them, and I can't believe that I went 19 years without seeing them.
~Whimsy
P.S. Here's a thank you to my mums for not only buying me the films for my birthday, but also watching them with me, even though Star Wars is not really your "thing". Really, this is more of a thank you for Mum on the watching end, since Nay slept through the whole set of 6 movies. A double thank you to you, Mum, for stifling your running commentary during the fight montages. "oh god...NO R2D2, NO! Run, run, run! He's RIGHT THERE. This is so intense. He's going to die. Don't die!"
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Getting over myself.
Only after I finished my post, I realized that the blog I wrote yesterday was rather long. I think that's fine, though. There are some things that just need to be said, no matter how many words it takes.
As is my established pattern, since yesterday's post was long, this one will be shorter.
The unschooler's conference that I go to every year is coming up, and I've been hiding myself away, practicing my guitar so that maybe I'll actually get up the guts to enter the talent show and play in front of a room of people.
The idea is both terrifying and exciting, so I can't quite decide which feeling is going to win out, although I kind of really want to do it. It's just a matter of convincing myself that I'll do fine, and getting over myself.
In other news, I will be reaching my 100th post on this blog this month! That's a HUGE milestone, one that I never really thought I'd reach. So that's a cool thing.
Anyway, my day is calling me, and I have things to create, books to read, and songs to sing!
Have a splendid day,
~Whimsy
As is my established pattern, since yesterday's post was long, this one will be shorter.
The unschooler's conference that I go to every year is coming up, and I've been hiding myself away, practicing my guitar so that maybe I'll actually get up the guts to enter the talent show and play in front of a room of people.
The idea is both terrifying and exciting, so I can't quite decide which feeling is going to win out, although I kind of really want to do it. It's just a matter of convincing myself that I'll do fine, and getting over myself.
In other news, I will be reaching my 100th post on this blog this month! That's a HUGE milestone, one that I never really thought I'd reach. So that's a cool thing.
Anyway, my day is calling me, and I have things to create, books to read, and songs to sing!
Have a splendid day,
~Whimsy
Monday, August 8, 2011
On haters, opinions and Rebecca Black: an important post.
You know what I find absurd? People apologizing for what they like, or being embarrassed that they like something.
In my humblest of opinions, if you like something, you should like it. Revel in the fact that you have found something that brings you happiness, and don't hide.
Think about it. I'm sure you've seen somebody say "Well, I actually like Miley Cyrus/boxed mac 'n cheese-like-product/planking/Twilight/reading books meant for people younger than I am/studying/cheesy horror films/you name it" with a really sheepish expression, like they're about to lose all the "cool points" that they had accumulated, or like suddenly, all their friends will decide that all connection to this Loser-with-a-capital-L must be ceased immediately.
Take a look at that list. Liking ANYTHING on that list isn't causing any harm to anyone.
What really gets me is when people decide that just because they don't like something, EVERYONE in the world is therefore required not to like it. Seriously, what is WITH that?
I may not like Twilight, for example, and I may think that it's a horrible example of a healthy relationship*, but that don't give me the right yo look at someone else and go "Ugh. You like TWILIGHT. You can't like that, it's horrible, and therefore if you like it, you must be stupid!"
I see no problem with having a discussion about why we like certain things, and if you like something that I dislike, I have no right to make you feel like an idiot for liking it.
That respect should go both ways. If I like to listen to Miley Cyrus and dance around like a madwoman, or just listen to Party in the USA while I blog**, then you don't get to look at me with disappointment in your eyes and then make me feel like an idiot because I actually enjoy doing something.
And now we've reached something that really bothers me. People who hate people who like certain pop singers, or people who hate the pop singers themselves for no other reason than that they think that the singer is a "bad singer". I'm going to use two examples. One is Rebecca Black, and the other are the Bieber fans.
Starting with Rebecca, you have a 13 year old girl who made a music video because she wanted to, and because of it's admittedly non-amazing lyrics and the days of the week and having a party, it's fantastically catchy beat, a music video that doesn't rival one that could be created by a pop superstar like Lady GaGa, and the fact that she's young, she gets some of the most horrible hate comments. Just take a moment to scroll through some of the comments on "Friday".
Actually, I'll do that for you.
"which seat can you take? the electric one."
"i cant wait until she stands up in a car on the highway at night....... then i'll drive up and push her.... lololol ;D"
"Sounds like someones strangling a cat."
and the kicker, this little gem that is worse than all the rest put together.
"If you are seriously supporting what this girl is doing, there is something seriously wrong with you. It's like supporting AIDS injections for newborns. Nothing is right or ok about this. And some of you say "oh, but she's trying to make her dreams come true, don't hate." Fuck that! You know who else was just trying to make their dreams come true? Hitler. And look how that turned out. "
Nice, huh? Let's try a Bieber video. How about the official music video for "Baby"?
Okay, I'm scrolling through the comments, and a LOT of the hate that people are spewing is stuff that is so vile, I don't feel okay with having it on my blog, even for illustrative purposes.*** But, I can find a few that I feel I can post.
"Dislike everyone. Lets give this faggot 2,000,000 dislikes. "
"Hey you guys are so mean to Justin, leave HER alone"
"Justin Bieber is standing on the edge of a tower.
95% of all teenager are screaming and hoping that he wont jump.
If you belong to the 5% who eat chips and drink coke and scream BACKFLIP, BACKFLIP then press LIKE!!!!!"
Do me a favor, and take a look at that for a moment. This is what we do to people. We hide behind our screens and our handles, and we say horrible things.
Anyone who DARES to actually enjoy Rebecca or Justin's music is automatically pegged as a stupid fan with no taste. And you know what?
I actually like "My Moment", Rebecca's new song. I make no apologies**** for that. I especially the part where she's essentially saying "You know what, screw all you haters, I'm going to keep doing what I love and keep reaching for my dreams, no matter what you all say." Everyone knows her, she's on talk shows, and she's a household name, and it's all thanks to the people who leave her hate comments. I think that's beautiful poetic justice.
Essentially, what I'm saying is this.
Can we stop hating on people for liking things? Can we stop hiding the things that we like because we're afraid that our friends won't approve? Can we like things unabashedly? Can we enjoy music that might not be the best, technically, but still makes us happy? Can we think about the fact that there are actual people behind the screen names, music videos and pop stars? http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif
Please?
~Whimsy
* Hint: I do think that.
** Hint: I do, in fact do that.
*** Here is where I find a bunch of swastika graphics in a whole pile of youtube comments. I am genuinely confused.
**** Rachel, here's looking at you. I can't type no apologies without thinking of you.
In my humblest of opinions, if you like something, you should like it. Revel in the fact that you have found something that brings you happiness, and don't hide.
Think about it. I'm sure you've seen somebody say "Well, I actually like Miley Cyrus/boxed mac 'n cheese-like-product/planking/Twilight/reading books meant for people younger than I am/studying/cheesy horror films/you name it" with a really sheepish expression, like they're about to lose all the "cool points" that they had accumulated, or like suddenly, all their friends will decide that all connection to this Loser-with-a-capital-L must be ceased immediately.
Take a look at that list. Liking ANYTHING on that list isn't causing any harm to anyone.
What really gets me is when people decide that just because they don't like something, EVERYONE in the world is therefore required not to like it. Seriously, what is WITH that?
I may not like Twilight, for example, and I may think that it's a horrible example of a healthy relationship*, but that don't give me the right yo look at someone else and go "Ugh. You like TWILIGHT. You can't like that, it's horrible, and therefore if you like it, you must be stupid!"
I see no problem with having a discussion about why we like certain things, and if you like something that I dislike, I have no right to make you feel like an idiot for liking it.
That respect should go both ways. If I like to listen to Miley Cyrus and dance around like a madwoman, or just listen to Party in the USA while I blog**, then you don't get to look at me with disappointment in your eyes and then make me feel like an idiot because I actually enjoy doing something.
And now we've reached something that really bothers me. People who hate people who like certain pop singers, or people who hate the pop singers themselves for no other reason than that they think that the singer is a "bad singer". I'm going to use two examples. One is Rebecca Black, and the other are the Bieber fans.
Starting with Rebecca, you have a 13 year old girl who made a music video because she wanted to, and because of it's admittedly non-amazing lyrics and the days of the week and having a party, it's fantastically catchy beat, a music video that doesn't rival one that could be created by a pop superstar like Lady GaGa, and the fact that she's young, she gets some of the most horrible hate comments. Just take a moment to scroll through some of the comments on "Friday".
Actually, I'll do that for you.
"which seat can you take? the electric one."
"i cant wait until she stands up in a car on the highway at night....... then i'll drive up and push her.... lololol ;D"
"Sounds like someones strangling a cat."
and the kicker, this little gem that is worse than all the rest put together.
"If you are seriously supporting what this girl is doing, there is something seriously wrong with you. It's like supporting AIDS injections for newborns. Nothing is right or ok about this. And some of you say "oh, but she's trying to make her dreams come true, don't hate." Fuck that! You know who else was just trying to make their dreams come true? Hitler. And look how that turned out. "
Nice, huh? Let's try a Bieber video. How about the official music video for "Baby"?
Okay, I'm scrolling through the comments, and a LOT of the hate that people are spewing is stuff that is so vile, I don't feel okay with having it on my blog, even for illustrative purposes.*** But, I can find a few that I feel I can post.
"Dislike everyone. Lets give this faggot 2,000,000 dislikes. "
"Hey you guys are so mean to Justin, leave HER alone"
"Justin Bieber is standing on the edge of a tower.
95% of all teenager are screaming and hoping that he wont jump.
If you belong to the 5% who eat chips and drink coke and scream BACKFLIP, BACKFLIP then press LIKE!!!!!"
Do me a favor, and take a look at that for a moment. This is what we do to people. We hide behind our screens and our handles, and we say horrible things.
Anyone who DARES to actually enjoy Rebecca or Justin's music is automatically pegged as a stupid fan with no taste. And you know what?
I actually like "My Moment", Rebecca's new song. I make no apologies**** for that. I especially the part where she's essentially saying "You know what, screw all you haters, I'm going to keep doing what I love and keep reaching for my dreams, no matter what you all say." Everyone knows her, she's on talk shows, and she's a household name, and it's all thanks to the people who leave her hate comments. I think that's beautiful poetic justice.
Essentially, what I'm saying is this.
Can we stop hating on people for liking things? Can we stop hiding the things that we like because we're afraid that our friends won't approve? Can we like things unabashedly? Can we enjoy music that might not be the best, technically, but still makes us happy? Can we think about the fact that there are actual people behind the screen names, music videos and pop stars? http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif
Please?
~Whimsy
* Hint: I do think that.
** Hint: I do, in fact do that.
*** Here is where I find a bunch of swastika graphics in a whole pile of youtube comments. I am genuinely confused.
**** Rachel, here's looking at you. I can't type no apologies without thinking of you.
Sunday, August 7, 2011
Week Thirty-One: Reasoning.
Because of my general madness and the combined forces of two separate blogging challenges, I've decided that my Sunday posts in August will be both my BOW'11 post for that week, and my daily blogging challenge that BEDA presents.
Since I'm still working my way through watching all the Star Wars movies, I feel like I can't properly talk about that, as of yet.
Here we are, at the end of the first week of BEDA. Oh my flipping WOW did this week go by fast. Was that just me, or did August first just happen YESTERDAY?
I really haven't much time to write because of sign language lesson tonight and the fact that I still have MANY superheroes and -villains to create!
Have a charming day.
~Whimsy
Since I'm still working my way through watching all the Star Wars movies, I feel like I can't properly talk about that, as of yet.
Here we are, at the end of the first week of BEDA. Oh my flipping WOW did this week go by fast. Was that just me, or did August first just happen YESTERDAY?
I really haven't much time to write because of sign language lesson tonight and the fact that I still have MANY superheroes and -villains to create!
Have a charming day.
~Whimsy
Saturday, August 6, 2011
Stuffed Superheroes
If there's one thing I really love, it's creating things.
There is really NOTHING nicer than deciding to create something that wasn't there before.
Now, I really don't care what you're creating, weather it's words on a page or music from an instrument, whether you are drawing, painting, dancing, sewing, editing together a video...you name it, if it's creating something, there's just nothing better. When you're at the end of your project and you say to yourself "I made that. There's something in this world that wasn't there before, and I made it happen"...I love that.
I'm in the middle of creating things right now, actually. This year, for the first time ever, I will be SELLING something at the Unschooler's conference that we go to.
My brainchild is this: I'm making a whole pantheon of superheros and a pantheon of supervillians, all of them with their own story, and each of them is made into a cuddly little stuffed plushie. There will be 20 in all, and I'm really proud of my little squishies. I'll post photos when I have one or two finished. ^__^
Question of the day: What do YOU love creating?
~Whimsy
There is really NOTHING nicer than deciding to create something that wasn't there before.
Now, I really don't care what you're creating, weather it's words on a page or music from an instrument, whether you are drawing, painting, dancing, sewing, editing together a video...you name it, if it's creating something, there's just nothing better. When you're at the end of your project and you say to yourself "I made that. There's something in this world that wasn't there before, and I made it happen"...I love that.
I'm in the middle of creating things right now, actually. This year, for the first time ever, I will be SELLING something at the Unschooler's conference that we go to.
My brainchild is this: I'm making a whole pantheon of superheros and a pantheon of supervillians, all of them with their own story, and each of them is made into a cuddly little stuffed plushie. There will be 20 in all, and I'm really proud of my little squishies. I'll post photos when I have one or two finished. ^__^
Question of the day: What do YOU love creating?
~Whimsy
Friday, August 5, 2011
Come Along, Rory.
I wrote this song for a friend of mine as a sort of a prize for guessing my name in a weirdly Rumplestiltskin challenge. ^__^
I'm (very) proud of how it came out, to the point that I want to share it with all of you. (Also, sharing music is nervousmaking.)
It's from Rory William's point of view, and it contains spoilers ALL THE WAY THROUGH Series 6.1 of Doctor Who.
I do hope you like it, and feel free to leave a comment or tell me what you think!
I'm (very) proud of how it came out, to the point that I want to share it with all of you. (Also, sharing music is nervousmaking.)
It's from Rory William's point of view, and it contains spoilers ALL THE WAY THROUGH Series 6.1 of Doctor Who.
I do hope you like it, and feel free to leave a comment or tell me what you think!
Thursday, August 4, 2011
I'd really like you to read this. ^__^
Before I go any further, this moth I'm going to have some post that I really want you to read...some posts that I don't want to get lost in the flood of BEDA posts. If a post is one that I'd really like you to read, I'll make sure the title is letting you know that.
This post is one of those posts that I'd really appreciate it if you'd read.
I'll start with a question.
Have any of you read "The Gospel According To Larry"? It's a phenomenal book, one that's really thought provoking, raising some very interesting questions about anonymity.
If you haven't read it (and you should read it), it's by Janet Tashjian. Go find it.
In the meantime, I'll tell you the basic premise of the book. Josh Swensen, a teenaged blogger gains a HUGE following for his anti-consumerisim blog, thegospelaccordingtolarry.com, a website that actually exists. However, Josh is writing anonymously, under the pseudonym of "Larry". Eventually, there's a huge movement to find out who this "Larry" is, and things get very interesting from there...
I won't spoil it for you, don't worry.
The reason why I'm talking about Larry is because his story is part of why I've chosen not to give out my birth name on this blog. (The other reason is, of course, for personal protection. I don't want a knock on my door that leads to a phone call to the police. You all know how much I hate phones.)
I don't have delusions that my tiny blog will become a worldwide phenomenon, but the idea that Josh has people who read what he says and care about what he has to say just because of the power of his words, not because of who's saying them...that's the most interesting part of the book for me. If Larry had given anything away about who he was, his message would have been changed by nothing other than people's perception.
That's why my blog won't link to any other of my online haunts anymore. I'd like you to enjoy what I have to say purely because of what I'm saying, not because of who's speaking. Sort of like Larry.
Unlike Larry, I've told you things about me. You know details of my life, my past, my future, and you even can see a fairly clear photograph of me.
For me, when I'm writing these posts, I want you to get to know me. I want to get to know all of you. But I want to do that without having those weird stumbling blocks of awkwardness that happens so often (for me, at least).
This is pure, unadulterated ME, behind these words. Clearer than I could be in person.
That leaves me with a few questions for you all:
What are your thoughts about pseudonyms?
Would/do you use one?
Have you read The Gospel According To Larry?
Lastly, thank you for taking the time to get to know an odd girl with a computer. Every one of you makes my day, whether you comment, subscribe to my posts, or just READ what I have to say.
~Whimsy
Postscript:
I realize that I didn't mention the people who read this blog who are my friends and family members. You know who I am, but I hope that reading my blog lets you get to know me a little better, or that you enjoy my quirky writing blurbs. Thank you all, as well.
This post is one of those posts that I'd really appreciate it if you'd read.
I'll start with a question.
Have any of you read "The Gospel According To Larry"? It's a phenomenal book, one that's really thought provoking, raising some very interesting questions about anonymity.
If you haven't read it (and you should read it), it's by Janet Tashjian. Go find it.
In the meantime, I'll tell you the basic premise of the book. Josh Swensen, a teenaged blogger gains a HUGE following for his anti-consumerisim blog, thegospelaccordingtolarry.com, a website that actually exists. However, Josh is writing anonymously, under the pseudonym of "Larry". Eventually, there's a huge movement to find out who this "Larry" is, and things get very interesting from there...
I won't spoil it for you, don't worry.
The reason why I'm talking about Larry is because his story is part of why I've chosen not to give out my birth name on this blog. (The other reason is, of course, for personal protection. I don't want a knock on my door that leads to a phone call to the police. You all know how much I hate phones.)
I don't have delusions that my tiny blog will become a worldwide phenomenon, but the idea that Josh has people who read what he says and care about what he has to say just because of the power of his words, not because of who's saying them...that's the most interesting part of the book for me. If Larry had given anything away about who he was, his message would have been changed by nothing other than people's perception.
That's why my blog won't link to any other of my online haunts anymore. I'd like you to enjoy what I have to say purely because of what I'm saying, not because of who's speaking. Sort of like Larry.
Unlike Larry, I've told you things about me. You know details of my life, my past, my future, and you even can see a fairly clear photograph of me.
For me, when I'm writing these posts, I want you to get to know me. I want to get to know all of you. But I want to do that without having those weird stumbling blocks of awkwardness that happens so often (for me, at least).
This is pure, unadulterated ME, behind these words. Clearer than I could be in person.
That leaves me with a few questions for you all:
What are your thoughts about pseudonyms?
Would/do you use one?
Have you read The Gospel According To Larry?
Lastly, thank you for taking the time to get to know an odd girl with a computer. Every one of you makes my day, whether you comment, subscribe to my posts, or just READ what I have to say.
~Whimsy
Postscript:
I realize that I didn't mention the people who read this blog who are my friends and family members. You know who I am, but I hope that reading my blog lets you get to know me a little better, or that you enjoy my quirky writing blurbs. Thank you all, as well.
Ewok-in' the dance floor.
Today is going to be a post pertaining to August.
Firstly, in case you DON'T know what BEDA is, I shall explain. BEDA is a project, created by the wonderful @Maureenjohnson in which the goal is to blog every day in a month beginning with A. This project started out in April (I do believe), but has since moved to August. I've done BEDA last year, and despite the madness that ensued, it was amazing, and I made some incredible friends.
So that's that. BEDA. BAM.
Secondly, some people have been talking about their August plans, and I will be joining those ranks today.
Among other things, this month my mom has surgery, we've got scads of proposals to get out for our theatre business, and at the end of the month, we're going to the Unschooler's conference! All that, and there are summer projects to do, home improvements to have done, and books to read!
Also, I'm starting sewing up little stuffed superheroes and supervillians to sell at the unschooler's conference, so that's really exciting!
As you may be able to tell, this BEDA is going in rather the same way as the past year. It's after midnight, and despite my plans to write a blog post before now, nothing has gone up.
Like last year, I'm calling this "blog once a day before you go to bed August".
Anyway, I think I can get let off easy because the reason I am late posting is because I was watching Return Of The Jedi...for the FIRST TIME.
While my thoughts on Star Wars will undoubtedly crop up in this coming month, I will simply say this:
Ewok dance party at the end. 'Nuff said.
~Whimsy
Firstly, in case you DON'T know what BEDA is, I shall explain. BEDA is a project, created by the wonderful @Maureenjohnson in which the goal is to blog every day in a month beginning with A. This project started out in April (I do believe), but has since moved to August. I've done BEDA last year, and despite the madness that ensued, it was amazing, and I made some incredible friends.
So that's that. BEDA. BAM.
Secondly, some people have been talking about their August plans, and I will be joining those ranks today.
Among other things, this month my mom has surgery, we've got scads of proposals to get out for our theatre business, and at the end of the month, we're going to the Unschooler's conference! All that, and there are summer projects to do, home improvements to have done, and books to read!
Also, I'm starting sewing up little stuffed superheroes and supervillians to sell at the unschooler's conference, so that's really exciting!
As you may be able to tell, this BEDA is going in rather the same way as the past year. It's after midnight, and despite my plans to write a blog post before now, nothing has gone up.
Like last year, I'm calling this "blog once a day before you go to bed August".
Anyway, I think I can get let off easy because the reason I am late posting is because I was watching Return Of The Jedi...for the FIRST TIME.
While my thoughts on Star Wars will undoubtedly crop up in this coming month, I will simply say this:
Ewok dance party at the end. 'Nuff said.
~Whimsy
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
Pitching myself off the cliff into oblivion!
Do you ever have one of those decisions where either option could potentially end up being something you'll regret?
It's one of those "lesser of two evils" situations. You weigh both options, and try to find the one that you'll regret LEAST, and pick that one. ...or at least I do.
It can be hard to choose what option will be the one you'll regret, especially if you don't have all the information. Perhaps there's some rouge element in the future? Something you can't count on in your careful planning and weighing? That's when it gets really tricky.
Then it becomes not just a matter of having everything fit in the neat little "pro" and "con" lists that you've drawn up, but also a sort of future-guessing.
If you can't tell, when I'm making a decision, I like to have ALL the information right in front of me, and not having that information can send me into a tailspin. Yes, you read that right. Trying to work out what I should choose can send me into a minor stage of panic. Not pretty, not helpful.
So, back to the lesser of two evils, leaving my panic mode behind.
There you are, analyzing every possible outcome to death, under a time restraint (because since when did a really tricky decision come WITHOUT a time restriction?) and all you can think about is what you're going to do about your really tricky and potentially life-threatening question, what NEXT?
Wait, shhh. Of COURSE it's life threatening! Geez, you people. Your answer will not only threaten your life, but it could CHANGE THE WORLD.
Raised stakes never hurt anyone, am I right?
.
.
.
Hang on. What the hell were we talking about? Life threats, world changing, evils, future-guessing, and a mild mode of panic...
There was a point, I swear.
RIGHT! So, in the line of all great life-changing decisions, I have decided to take a flying leap and pitch myself off the cliff into the oblivion that is BEDA. God knows what I've gotten myself into, but we'll see.
I've got madness coming, this August, so let's see what happens.
Here with you for the ride, for better, for worse, and for late posts,
~Whimsy
P.S. Role call! Who's doing BEDA?
It's one of those "lesser of two evils" situations. You weigh both options, and try to find the one that you'll regret LEAST, and pick that one. ...or at least I do.
It can be hard to choose what option will be the one you'll regret, especially if you don't have all the information. Perhaps there's some rouge element in the future? Something you can't count on in your careful planning and weighing? That's when it gets really tricky.
Then it becomes not just a matter of having everything fit in the neat little "pro" and "con" lists that you've drawn up, but also a sort of future-guessing.
If you can't tell, when I'm making a decision, I like to have ALL the information right in front of me, and not having that information can send me into a tailspin. Yes, you read that right. Trying to work out what I should choose can send me into a minor stage of panic. Not pretty, not helpful.
So, back to the lesser of two evils, leaving my panic mode behind.
There you are, analyzing every possible outcome to death, under a time restraint (because since when did a really tricky decision come WITHOUT a time restriction?) and all you can think about is what you're going to do about your really tricky and potentially life-threatening question, what NEXT?
Wait, shhh. Of COURSE it's life threatening! Geez, you people. Your answer will not only threaten your life, but it could CHANGE THE WORLD.
Raised stakes never hurt anyone, am I right?
.
.
.
Hang on. What the hell were we talking about? Life threats, world changing, evils, future-guessing, and a mild mode of panic...
There was a point, I swear.
RIGHT! So, in the line of all great life-changing decisions, I have decided to take a flying leap and pitch myself off the cliff into the oblivion that is BEDA. God knows what I've gotten myself into, but we'll see.
I've got madness coming, this August, so let's see what happens.
Here with you for the ride, for better, for worse, and for late posts,
~Whimsy
P.S. Role call! Who's doing BEDA?
Monday, August 1, 2011
Pondering BEDA
I'm seriously contemplating BEDA, but I can't decide whether or not to actually DO IT.
In the meantime, I am fiddling with my blog's layout, and pondering this.
Happy BEDA to those participating, happy VEDA to those who are doing that project, and Happy August to EVERYONE!
~Whimsy
In the meantime, I am fiddling with my blog's layout, and pondering this.
Happy BEDA to those participating, happy VEDA to those who are doing that project, and Happy August to EVERYONE!
~Whimsy
Under construction!
Pardon the way Whimsyville looks while I fiddle about with the theme. Strange colors and odd coding may abound as I attempt to update this blog from the CRAZYLEMON of last year.
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Week Thirty: The need to DO something.
As of this post, I am officially caught up with my BOW'11 project. It's taken quite a bit of doing, but we're there!
I'm having one of those days where I have an urge to DO something. Not just enjoy the fact that for pretty much the first time ALL SUMMER, we don't have anything PLANNED for this weekend, but to really DO SOMETHING.
Do you ever get to that point where you feel like you want to create something, to make something happen, to make something that wasn't there before you started? When I get into one of these moods, my only stumbling block is figuring out exactly what I want to do.
It's not the problem of not having anything to do, it's the problem that I have too many options.
Do I brainstorm some crazy plan or party on the internet?
Do I finish adding library slips into my home bookshelves?
Do I write music?
Do I video myself playing a song I wrote, and then upload it?
Do I work on editing last year's NaNo?
I can make myself clothing, or film my first vlog.
Do I figure out what plot I want to work on for THIS year's NaNo?
Or I could revamp my iTunes library, or work on my business.
The day is young, and I have so much to do.
Thoroughly enjoying my day,
Whimsy
P.S. If you ever feel like you need to DO something, what sorts of things do you DO?
P.P.S. I really, really really CRAZY WANT to get into Pottermore, to the point that I just might stay up until 4am tonight to see if I can. Or I might not. Sleep can be very nice. Are you all as crazy as I am?
P.P.P.S Happy birthday to J.K. Rowling and to Harry Potter. Without either of them, I more than likely would not have met any of you, my blog readers.
I'm having one of those days where I have an urge to DO something. Not just enjoy the fact that for pretty much the first time ALL SUMMER, we don't have anything PLANNED for this weekend, but to really DO SOMETHING.
Do you ever get to that point where you feel like you want to create something, to make something happen, to make something that wasn't there before you started? When I get into one of these moods, my only stumbling block is figuring out exactly what I want to do.
It's not the problem of not having anything to do, it's the problem that I have too many options.
Do I brainstorm some crazy plan or party on the internet?
Do I finish adding library slips into my home bookshelves?
Do I write music?
Do I video myself playing a song I wrote, and then upload it?
Do I work on editing last year's NaNo?
I can make myself clothing, or film my first vlog.
Do I figure out what plot I want to work on for THIS year's NaNo?
Or I could revamp my iTunes library, or work on my business.
The day is young, and I have so much to do.
Thoroughly enjoying my day,
Whimsy
P.S. If you ever feel like you need to DO something, what sorts of things do you DO?
P.P.S. I really, really really CRAZY WANT to get into Pottermore, to the point that I just might stay up until 4am tonight to see if I can. Or I might not. Sleep can be very nice. Are you all as crazy as I am?
P.P.P.S Happy birthday to J.K. Rowling and to Harry Potter. Without either of them, I more than likely would not have met any of you, my blog readers.
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Week Twenty-Nine: A Letter
I decided to write a nice letter to WB, the makers of the Harry Potter films after watching the last movie, and thought I would share it with you. Keep in mind, there are SPOILERS from this point on.
YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
Dear WB, and everyone else involved in making the (admitedly amazing) Harry Potter movies:
Congratulations on making the Harry Potter films such a wonderful (overall, let's not get ahead of ourselves) addition to JKR's magical word.
I adored the movies. I really did, and that is part of the reason why I am talking the time to write to you about the latest film, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part Two.
The list of things I loved about this particular installment would be far too long to write down here, but suffice it to say that I loved a good 90% of the film. However, there is one thing above all that I took issue with.
There is a certain detail that I believe went a tad bit...off, when the Harry Potter books were being translated to movie form.
First, may I start out by saying that I, unlike many Potter fans, can forgive you for not making Harry's eyes green. I understand that Daniel was allergic to the contacts, so it's not like you didn't try. Harry's eyes are a charming light blue that borders on piercing. I can deal.
Now let's fast forward a few movies. As a viewer, we have numerous repetitions that Harry has "his mother's eyes". This fact is practically drilled into our skulls. Harry and Mummy have the same eyes.
It was July 15th, just after midnight. Here I am along with dozens of other devotees of Harry Potter, watching Snape's memories and bawling my eyes out. In front of me on the screen appears young Lily. She's adorable, with long flowing red hair, a sprinking of freckles, the sweetest little smile you've seen, and big brown eyes.
Yes, you have read that correctly, my dear WB friends. Her eyes are a beautiful deep, rich brown. To reiterate, Harry's eyes, while green in the book, are light blue in the movies, while Lily's eyes (that are supposed to match Harry's to the extent that almost every person he meets remarks upon them) are deep brown.
In light of this most grevious mishap, I suggest a revision to the famous line that plagued Harry his entire life..."You have your mother's eyes". From what I see, this line is not accurate at ALL, and therefore, my suggestions follow in a neat bullet point list for easy reference.
* "You have your mother's eyes when she forgot to wear her colored contacts."
* "Your mother's eyes were placed just like that on her face, too."
* "You have your mother's eyebrows."
* "You have your mother's blinking habits."
* "You have your mother's perfect vision...with your glasses on."
* "The scum on your lenses sure makes it look like you have your mother's eyes."
* "You have the same number of eyes as your mother."
If you wish to use any of these lines in future, I would be much obliged.
Sincerely,
Whimsy McWhimsysen
YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
Dear WB, and everyone else involved in making the (admitedly amazing) Harry Potter movies:
Congratulations on making the Harry Potter films such a wonderful (overall, let's not get ahead of ourselves) addition to JKR's magical word.
I adored the movies. I really did, and that is part of the reason why I am talking the time to write to you about the latest film, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part Two.
The list of things I loved about this particular installment would be far too long to write down here, but suffice it to say that I loved a good 90% of the film. However, there is one thing above all that I took issue with.
There is a certain detail that I believe went a tad bit...off, when the Harry Potter books were being translated to movie form.
First, may I start out by saying that I, unlike many Potter fans, can forgive you for not making Harry's eyes green. I understand that Daniel was allergic to the contacts, so it's not like you didn't try. Harry's eyes are a charming light blue that borders on piercing. I can deal.
Now let's fast forward a few movies. As a viewer, we have numerous repetitions that Harry has "his mother's eyes". This fact is practically drilled into our skulls. Harry and Mummy have the same eyes.
It was July 15th, just after midnight. Here I am along with dozens of other devotees of Harry Potter, watching Snape's memories and bawling my eyes out. In front of me on the screen appears young Lily. She's adorable, with long flowing red hair, a sprinking of freckles, the sweetest little smile you've seen, and big brown eyes.
Yes, you have read that correctly, my dear WB friends. Her eyes are a beautiful deep, rich brown. To reiterate, Harry's eyes, while green in the book, are light blue in the movies, while Lily's eyes (that are supposed to match Harry's to the extent that almost every person he meets remarks upon them) are deep brown.
In light of this most grevious mishap, I suggest a revision to the famous line that plagued Harry his entire life..."You have your mother's eyes". From what I see, this line is not accurate at ALL, and therefore, my suggestions follow in a neat bullet point list for easy reference.
* "You have your mother's eyes when she forgot to wear her colored contacts."
* "Your mother's eyes were placed just like that on her face, too."
* "You have your mother's eyebrows."
* "You have your mother's blinking habits."
* "You have your mother's perfect vision...with your glasses on."
* "The scum on your lenses sure makes it look like you have your mother's eyes."
* "You have the same number of eyes as your mother."
If you wish to use any of these lines in future, I would be much obliged.
Sincerely,
Whimsy McWhimsysen
Friday, July 22, 2011
Week Twenty-Eight: Baking Heat, Books and Brains.
I don't know if any of you noticed, but it's BAKING HOT right now.
I've been seeking refuge in libraries, the studio*, and drinking ungodly amounts of water. Now, any excuse to spend more time at a library sounds like a good idea to me.
It's kind of odd that as of just over a week, it will have been a full year since BEDA**. As much as I would LOVE to do BEDA again, I don't think I could manage doing a daily project at this time. I'll keep on with my weekly schedule, but I don't think I could properly do an EVERY DAY thing. Unless something changes, and Rowling knows, that happens all the time.
In reply to you lover-ly commenters, I will NOT give up on Buffy. So many people lohttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gifve both the show and the character, I can't write it off after just ONE bad episode. (I may take Rachel's suggestion, and just skip to season 2. Nothing wrong with getting all emotionally invested and then going back to see the cringe-worthy stuff after you care about the characters.
I've been trying to get some reading done, nothing huge, nothing like a summer project, but it's just nice to have pages to turn, and things that actually leave some story to the imagination. Don't get me wrong, I'm horribly emotionally attached to the Doctor Who characters, but I really like the action of READING.
There's something to be said for physically picking out a book, leafing through it, making sense in your head from just some back ink on a page, and getting to know characters in a way that I, personally don't think you can when you're watching the drama play out on a screen.
Take the character of Harry Potter, our wizard of page and screen. One of, if not THE most well known book character of today. When I read about him, the Harry I have in my head will be different than the character in your head, who will be different than the Harry that's in your best friend's head, who will be different than the Harry who is in Daniel Radcliffe's head.
And you know what? We can all be right. I don't get to tell you that how you view him is wrong, and you don't get to tell Daniel Radcliffe that how he views Harry is wrong***.
Reading is a very personalized experience, and for that reason and MANY others, I prefer it to anything on a screen. I guess that's why, when I hear that I should watch a certain TV show, I automatically think "Oh, d'you think there's a book I could read instead?" even when I know that the show came first.
If you think about it, reading reveals far more about yourself than it does about the author or book characters. I really like that.
Now I'm going to go find a book, get into my bed and READ.
~Whimsy
P.S.
I'm curious to know your thoughts on a few things, if you managed to get through this whole post (and good on you if you did).
Firstly, what are your thoughts on TV and movies versus books?
Secondly, do you have an e-reader/would you want one/do you like the idea?
Thirdly, how is your summer going? I feel like I haven't spoken to my blogging friends in AGES!
P.P.S. I don't think I ever mentioned this before, but the times you see on my posts are the actual times I finished writing them. I go into the options and change them to reflect the minute I actually manually hit the "PUBLISH POST" button. As you can see, I do a LOT of my writing after 1am.
*The studio, where we do most of the work for the business that we own (plus crafts as well!), is the one room in my house that has A/C. Everyone clusters around the nice cool air, and we all flop around like dying fish.
**Blog Every Day In August, where last year, I met some wonderful people who I am so proud to call my friends.
***To clarify, I still am a staunch supporter of raging at WB for some of their choices with the movies, and I am in NO WAY saying that every acting decision that Dan made as Harry was the right one. That being said, the way he played Harry is just that. The way he played him. It doesn't make YOUR Harry any less valid, just because "that's not how it was in the movies". Since when did the movies dictate the books or what's real in our minds, anyway?
I've been seeking refuge in libraries, the studio*, and drinking ungodly amounts of water. Now, any excuse to spend more time at a library sounds like a good idea to me.
It's kind of odd that as of just over a week, it will have been a full year since BEDA**. As much as I would LOVE to do BEDA again, I don't think I could manage doing a daily project at this time. I'll keep on with my weekly schedule, but I don't think I could properly do an EVERY DAY thing. Unless something changes, and Rowling knows, that happens all the time.
In reply to you lover-ly commenters, I will NOT give up on Buffy. So many people lohttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gifve both the show and the character, I can't write it off after just ONE bad episode. (I may take Rachel's suggestion, and just skip to season 2. Nothing wrong with getting all emotionally invested and then going back to see the cringe-worthy stuff after you care about the characters.
I've been trying to get some reading done, nothing huge, nothing like a summer project, but it's just nice to have pages to turn, and things that actually leave some story to the imagination. Don't get me wrong, I'm horribly emotionally attached to the Doctor Who characters, but I really like the action of READING.
There's something to be said for physically picking out a book, leafing through it, making sense in your head from just some back ink on a page, and getting to know characters in a way that I, personally don't think you can when you're watching the drama play out on a screen.
Take the character of Harry Potter, our wizard of page and screen. One of, if not THE most well known book character of today. When I read about him, the Harry I have in my head will be different than the character in your head, who will be different than the Harry that's in your best friend's head, who will be different than the Harry who is in Daniel Radcliffe's head.
And you know what? We can all be right. I don't get to tell you that how you view him is wrong, and you don't get to tell Daniel Radcliffe that how he views Harry is wrong***.
Reading is a very personalized experience, and for that reason and MANY others, I prefer it to anything on a screen. I guess that's why, when I hear that I should watch a certain TV show, I automatically think "Oh, d'you think there's a book I could read instead?" even when I know that the show came first.
If you think about it, reading reveals far more about yourself than it does about the author or book characters. I really like that.
Now I'm going to go find a book, get into my bed and READ.
~Whimsy
P.S.
I'm curious to know your thoughts on a few things, if you managed to get through this whole post (and good on you if you did).
Firstly, what are your thoughts on TV and movies versus books?
Secondly, do you have an e-reader/would you want one/do you like the idea?
Thirdly, how is your summer going? I feel like I haven't spoken to my blogging friends in AGES!
P.P.S. I don't think I ever mentioned this before, but the times you see on my posts are the actual times I finished writing them. I go into the options and change them to reflect the minute I actually manually hit the "PUBLISH POST" button. As you can see, I do a LOT of my writing after 1am.
*The studio, where we do most of the work for the business that we own (plus crafts as well!), is the one room in my house that has A/C. Everyone clusters around the nice cool air, and we all flop around like dying fish.
**Blog Every Day In August, where last year, I met some wonderful people who I am so proud to call my friends.
***To clarify, I still am a staunch supporter of raging at WB for some of their choices with the movies, and I am in NO WAY saying that every acting decision that Dan made as Harry was the right one. That being said, the way he played Harry is just that. The way he played him. It doesn't make YOUR Harry any less valid, just because "that's not how it was in the movies". Since when did the movies dictate the books or what's real in our minds, anyway?
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Week Twenty-Seven: Summer Projects
Well, it's summer now*!
Since I've never gone to school, summer means something different than "OMG NO MORE SCHOOL THROW A FREAKING PARTY".
To me, summer is a wonderful time (sometimes FAR too hot), where I can get to talk to all my schooled friends late at night, and they don't have to vanish so they can get up early.
Also, a big part of summer is/are my summer project(s). Now, when I say summer project(s), I don't mean schoolwork, or really, work of any kind. Summer projects are all to do with fun, in my opinion.
In previous years, I've decided to read an entire book series, or find out all I can about Shakespeare, make my own wooden sword with a hacksaw and some paint, start planning a novel, or prepare for the theatre season that begins in the fall.
This year, I have accidentally ended up with far, far too many summer projects, and it's just halfway through July. O__O These projects take on minds of their own, and as the summer rolls along, I will undoubtedly find another two, three or four MORE projects to add to my ever-growing list. Oh woe.
Current possible summer projects include:
Reading up on Anne Bonny and Mary Read.
For some reason, this set of famous female pirates seem like a on-again-off-again good idea to do my NaNoWriMo novel about. I think I need a BIT more information about exactly what they did and who they were before I can properly put pen to paper and draw up an outline for anything. I'd like to fill in some of the fuzzy details. The past two years, I've done realistic YA and a fantasy epic for NaNo, so maybe this year I'll do something totally different!
Watching all the the X-Men movies:
Yes, I know. It's a mildly silly goal, but I really liked X-Men: First Class. I've never gotten into superheroes, but there's something about that crazy misfit band of mutants that I really liked. This project is rather similar to my TOS Star Trek watching attempt. I saw Star Trek 2009, and I wanted to see what else Trek-related I would enjoy. Let's just say that old Trek was a bit difficult to get into, so that's on the side right now. HOWEVER, Netflix has Star Trek Voyager, and that one's a bit newer, with a female captain. We shall have to see...
Plotting this November's NaNoWriMo:
This one is kind of hinging on doing research about Anne and Mary, but I like to get my ducks in a row for NaNo far, far before I actually NEED to. If I'm going to do a full-scale fantasy novel again, I'll need all the prep time I can get. I've also got some other plans bopping about in my head, but nothing concrete enough to put on paper. I WILL PREVAIL, THO'!
Vlogging:
I've said that I'm camera-shy on NUMEROUS occasions, but after doing a video with Nick for his collab channel, I think I'll throw myself whole-heartedly into yet ANOTHER crazy plan. Good ideas are good.
Buffy:
A good portion of my friends have watched and subsequently LOVED Buffy. I've seen the pilot episode, and it was pretty...okay, but I'm not giving up yet. So many people adore that show, and they can't ALL be wrong. (Or maybe they can. There are an AWFUL lot of Twilight fans out there.) I'll give it another few episodes to prove itself.
I haven't quite picked out what projects I'd like to see to completion, but I have high hopes.
There's an awful lot of summer left, and an AWFUL lot of awesome things to do. I'll see you later, friends!
~Whimsy
*For this unschooler, summer starts in June, and goes all the way through September 1st, the day that Hogwarts term starts.
Since I've never gone to school, summer means something different than "OMG NO MORE SCHOOL THROW A FREAKING PARTY".
To me, summer is a wonderful time (sometimes FAR too hot), where I can get to talk to all my schooled friends late at night, and they don't have to vanish so they can get up early.
Also, a big part of summer is/are my summer project(s). Now, when I say summer project(s), I don't mean schoolwork, or really, work of any kind. Summer projects are all to do with fun, in my opinion.
In previous years, I've decided to read an entire book series, or find out all I can about Shakespeare, make my own wooden sword with a hacksaw and some paint, start planning a novel, or prepare for the theatre season that begins in the fall.
This year, I have accidentally ended up with far, far too many summer projects, and it's just halfway through July. O__O These projects take on minds of their own, and as the summer rolls along, I will undoubtedly find another two, three or four MORE projects to add to my ever-growing list. Oh woe.
Current possible summer projects include:
Reading up on Anne Bonny and Mary Read.
For some reason, this set of famous female pirates seem like a on-again-off-again good idea to do my NaNoWriMo novel about. I think I need a BIT more information about exactly what they did and who they were before I can properly put pen to paper and draw up an outline for anything. I'd like to fill in some of the fuzzy details. The past two years, I've done realistic YA and a fantasy epic for NaNo, so maybe this year I'll do something totally different!
Watching all the the X-Men movies:
Yes, I know. It's a mildly silly goal, but I really liked X-Men: First Class. I've never gotten into superheroes, but there's something about that crazy misfit band of mutants that I really liked. This project is rather similar to my TOS Star Trek watching attempt. I saw Star Trek 2009, and I wanted to see what else Trek-related I would enjoy. Let's just say that old Trek was a bit difficult to get into, so that's on the side right now. HOWEVER, Netflix has Star Trek Voyager, and that one's a bit newer, with a female captain. We shall have to see...
Plotting this November's NaNoWriMo:
This one is kind of hinging on doing research about Anne and Mary, but I like to get my ducks in a row for NaNo far, far before I actually NEED to. If I'm going to do a full-scale fantasy novel again, I'll need all the prep time I can get. I've also got some other plans bopping about in my head, but nothing concrete enough to put on paper. I WILL PREVAIL, THO'!
Vlogging:
I've said that I'm camera-shy on NUMEROUS occasions, but after doing a video with Nick for his collab channel, I think I'll throw myself whole-heartedly into yet ANOTHER crazy plan. Good ideas are good.
Buffy:
A good portion of my friends have watched and subsequently LOVED Buffy. I've seen the pilot episode, and it was pretty...okay, but I'm not giving up yet. So many people adore that show, and they can't ALL be wrong. (Or maybe they can. There are an AWFUL lot of Twilight fans out there.) I'll give it another few episodes to prove itself.
I haven't quite picked out what projects I'd like to see to completion, but I have high hopes.
There's an awful lot of summer left, and an AWFUL lot of awesome things to do. I'll see you later, friends!
~Whimsy
*For this unschooler, summer starts in June, and goes all the way through September 1st, the day that Hogwarts term starts.
Monday, July 11, 2011
Week Twenty-Six: Social Experiment
I've learned something, and I would like to share this story with you all.
I'm a naturally quiet person. My first instinct is to not engage in a conversation with someone, and just let my distractions take over, so I just pay attention to whatever the most shiny thing in the room is. Remaining quiet means I don't have to worry about all the funny little social things that we humans feel the need to do, and it has the added advantage of freeing up my brain-space for even more thought about whatever is buzzing around in my head.
There are, however, some distinct disadvantages to this strategy. The first, and most blatant problem is that after this, I sometimes end up wishing that I had the nerve to just insert myself in the conversation.
Recently, I've been attempting to put myself out there more, and (I know that half/most of you are reading this just KNOWING what I'm going to say, and are ready with a "No, REALLY, Whimsy?", but I need to say this anyway) people are really receptive, if you're put yourself out there and be friendly first.
And when I do, it's nice to make connections with people. I've been to a few wizard/nerd rock shows this summer, and am lucky enough to be going to another at the end of the month, where I shall continue to employ my new tactic. It's working so far.
~Whimsy
Addendum part A: I still consider myself an introvert, and happily so. I do enjoy hanging around with people, as well as hanging around myself and my books.
Addendum part B: Perhaps this will be one of those "Why did I blog at 2am?" type of posts, but even if it is, that's fine with me. As of right now, I genuinely like what I've written, and that's good enough for me.
I'm a naturally quiet person. My first instinct is to not engage in a conversation with someone, and just let my distractions take over, so I just pay attention to whatever the most shiny thing in the room is. Remaining quiet means I don't have to worry about all the funny little social things that we humans feel the need to do, and it has the added advantage of freeing up my brain-space for even more thought about whatever is buzzing around in my head.
There are, however, some distinct disadvantages to this strategy. The first, and most blatant problem is that after this, I sometimes end up wishing that I had the nerve to just insert myself in the conversation.
Recently, I've been attempting to put myself out there more, and (I know that half/most of you are reading this just KNOWING what I'm going to say, and are ready with a "No, REALLY, Whimsy?", but I need to say this anyway) people are really receptive, if you're put yourself out there and be friendly first.
And when I do, it's nice to make connections with people. I've been to a few wizard/nerd rock shows this summer, and am lucky enough to be going to another at the end of the month, where I shall continue to employ my new tactic. It's working so far.
~Whimsy
Addendum part A: I still consider myself an introvert, and happily so. I do enjoy hanging around with people, as well as hanging around myself and my books.
Addendum part B: Perhaps this will be one of those "Why did I blog at 2am?" type of posts, but even if it is, that's fine with me. As of right now, I genuinely like what I've written, and that's good enough for me.
Week Twenty-Five: A Discussion Of Summer And Why This Blog Post Is So Late
Why hello!
I realize it's been a rather long while, and that, as of now, I am a month behind ohttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gifn my project. My plans are to fix this by creating a series of blogs. I will firstly, catch up, and secondly, I will attempt to actually finish this year-long project in a blaze of glory, not a puddle of failure. xD
Currently, this project is in the puddle of failure phase. But never fear, dear readers, THIS BLOG WILL SURVIVE.
So, I've been doing pretty much everything, which is why I haven't had any time to properly blog. Between having the ever-charming Nick over to my house for a whole week, continuing rather large home-improvement projects, having parties and things, going on vacation, and still keeping up with the classes/workshops I participate in, getting ready for HP7 part 2 and writing some new music, I haven't even had any time to sit and READ, which has been a travesty all unto itself.
Just a few days ago, I managed to get to a library, and I subsequently curled up with my books, and haven't let go since. I still have my summer re-read of Taggerung and Pearls of Lutra, which are my two favorite Redwall books. Yes, I know. I'm nineteen, and I read Redwall. I own almost every one of those books, and despite the fact that they're certainly follow a formula, I've read each one numerous times.
I can probably tell you the full history of the vermin hordes in Mossflower, and the chronicles of the Badger Lords in order (not the order the books were released in, the order that the story follows), and more than likely, I could draw up a half-way decent map of the Abbey.
There are some books that I read as comfort food, when life is getting too crazy, when my grandmother was diagnosed with cancer, when I have no time to breathe, I can set aside a few minites to scan a page or two of a book that I've read over and over again. And every time I read that book, I return to an old friend. I might remember the dialouge, and I might hum the songs when they appear in the text, and I might know who dies in the end, what the end result of a prophecy or a riddle is, but that doesn't matter. In between the pages of that book, I've found a small piece of sanity where I had none before.
Thankfully, there's no disaster in my life that calls for pulling out the Redwall books, but I still like to read them when it's summer.
I can lay back on the grass, begin the story, and just think about living in a tiny stone abbey, eating food made by ottercooks and dreaming of a sword that belonged to a small warrior with a big heart.
~Whimsy
I realize it's been a rather long while, and that, as of now, I am a month behind ohttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gifn my project. My plans are to fix this by creating a series of blogs. I will firstly, catch up, and secondly, I will attempt to actually finish this year-long project in a blaze of glory, not a puddle of failure. xD
Currently, this project is in the puddle of failure phase. But never fear, dear readers, THIS BLOG WILL SURVIVE.
So, I've been doing pretty much everything, which is why I haven't had any time to properly blog. Between having the ever-charming Nick over to my house for a whole week, continuing rather large home-improvement projects, having parties and things, going on vacation, and still keeping up with the classes/workshops I participate in, getting ready for HP7 part 2 and writing some new music, I haven't even had any time to sit and READ, which has been a travesty all unto itself.
Just a few days ago, I managed to get to a library, and I subsequently curled up with my books, and haven't let go since. I still have my summer re-read of Taggerung and Pearls of Lutra, which are my two favorite Redwall books. Yes, I know. I'm nineteen, and I read Redwall. I own almost every one of those books, and despite the fact that they're certainly follow a formula, I've read each one numerous times.
I can probably tell you the full history of the vermin hordes in Mossflower, and the chronicles of the Badger Lords in order (not the order the books were released in, the order that the story follows), and more than likely, I could draw up a half-way decent map of the Abbey.
There are some books that I read as comfort food, when life is getting too crazy, when my grandmother was diagnosed with cancer, when I have no time to breathe, I can set aside a few minites to scan a page or two of a book that I've read over and over again. And every time I read that book, I return to an old friend. I might remember the dialouge, and I might hum the songs when they appear in the text, and I might know who dies in the end, what the end result of a prophecy or a riddle is, but that doesn't matter. In between the pages of that book, I've found a small piece of sanity where I had none before.
Thankfully, there's no disaster in my life that calls for pulling out the Redwall books, but I still like to read them when it's summer.
I can lay back on the grass, begin the story, and just think about living in a tiny stone abbey, eating food made by ottercooks and dreaming of a sword that belonged to a small warrior with a big heart.
~Whimsy
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