small life

I don't like September. It's one of those months that has a bad reputation--the beginning of the school year, the end of summer--just like Mondays.

If we got rid of September and Mondays (as in, eliminated them. I don't know where they'd go. Check with the missing socks and the last original plot), I wonder if it would make people happier. Sure, maybe the psychological effects would last for a week or so, but then we'd move on to hating October and Tuesdays.

I was reading a blog post over at Book Bound (which is just fabulous, and really entertaining) where they talked about finishing your first drafts. What they said, though much more eloquently than me, was that you should finish all your first drafts. You don't have to publish them of course, but you'll learn so much that, trunk them or not, it'll be worth it.

Soooo, I'm back to my novel about super heroes. Novel might be a stretch--it's 12 pages and counting... Slowly counting... I'm just rereading what I already had, and I'm not stuck yet, but I'm afraid I soon will be.

So: September, Monday, writer's block. What else do I extremely dislike?

Canteloupe, shrimp, basketball. Swallowing so much salt water your throat burns. Incoherent blog posts. Grey's Anatomy. The fact that not everyone's life can be an Urban Fantasy novel.

In other news, have a great Friday.

Erika

sicksicksick

Hello,

The band, Port O'Brien, has a song called I Woke Up Today (weirdly enough, O'Brien is my gym teacher's name. Coincidence? I think not). It's a pretty good song, in my opinion. They're a folkish band who, according to their website, have been heavily influenced by the ocean.

If it was written about my life, though, I fear the song would go more like, I woke up today... and then I went back to bed.

I stayed home from school today because my head felt like someone had chosen it as the convenient location to blow up and twist around party balloons. This marks my First Cold of Fall. Wow, only six days into it and I'm sick. Pretty impressive, really.

Yesterday, I was outside in the pouring rain for about three hours because my town had it's first ever Graffiti Fest. There are a few big, abandoned buildings around town, and during the Graffiti Fest, the Arts Council and Skeena Diversity Society got permission to completely spray-paint over one of them. I left my mark on a concrete road barrier that was off to the side of the building.

Here I am, with my finished work:


Ugh, lovely rain-soaked hair and I-wasn't-planning-on-leaving-the-house clothes. So, I painted "Je t'aime" (I love you in French). Then it pretty much washed away in the rain, so painted it again.

At least being sick has given me lots of reading time. I finished Paranormalcy yesterday and The Demon's Lexicon today. Now I'm torn: I Am Number Four or Clockwork Angel? It's so hard to say.

So, what are you doing today?

lovely

Helloooo,

So, it's been raining. And if you read this blog regularly, you probably know that I adore the rain. I write weird, incoherent posts dedicated to storm clouds. I jump in puddles, and I sleep under layers of quilts to soften the plink-plonk of rain.

Tragically, I haven't been able to fully enjoy the miserable weather because I've been working. In the past three days, I worked nineteen hours. And I bought two books. Ah, well, what better way is there to spend my wages? I got a copy of I Am Number Four, so I'm pretty stoked to read that--okay, I was practically jumping up and down in front of the customers, and there was definitely some giggling :)

All this exciting news. Or maybe it's not very exciting for you. I apologize.

Tonight, I will fall asleep to the roar of the rain. Tomorrow, I will sleep in far too late and spend the day doing homework and practicing for a trumpet-playing-test.

But I will not let it spoil the lovely weather.

Love,

Erika

never be the same

(Image from weheartit.com)

My friend, Hope (name change, just in case she doesn't want it here), moved away at the end of the summer.

It's nice, talking to her over MSN, hearing about her day and her school. But it's also weird--removed. Hope is one of those rare, wonderful people who are totally fearless and totally vulnerable at the same time. She was always up for anything; a loud, vibrant person. Except when she wasn't. Hope could be shy and awkward just as much as the rest of us. But she could make anyone feel comfortable with just a few words.

She's coming back to Terrace in a few days (13 days, 14 nights, she told me), and I'm excited, but I'm also worried about what might have changed.

Hope has always kind of overwhelmed me. She's so bright and alive and crazy, and I definitely wish I could be more like her. As much as I want to talk to her in person again, I'm a little worried.

She and one of her good friends have a bet going that Hope will star in a movie before her friend publishes a book. They're the kind of people that will still be in touch in, say, twenty years. Me? I'm not so sure.

I'm sure I'll still know at least a few of my close friends. I really can't be sure, though. I definitely want to know what all these fabulous people will do with their lives, but once we're no longer seeing each other in school every day, I don't know if we'll really remember.

There I go, getting all nostalgic over things that haven't happened yet.

One thing's for sure, though. I don't want to forget. The evening air is cool and crisp, and we have our fireplace lit. It's the perfect first day of Fall.

This is a season of courage.

Erika

SPEAK up

I read Speak when I was in grade eight, and it made me sign up for Art the next year. It made me value my words, and the power they carry, that much more. It made me think before I spoke.


For those of you who haven't read Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson, it's a book about a girl named Melinda Sordino who begins her freshman year refusing to say anything, due to a trauma explained later in the book. Spoilers below, please scroll down quickly if you don't want to read them!

*Spoilers*

Melinda got drunk at a party a few weeks before freshman year, and was raped by senior Andy Evans. She calls 911 and cops bust the party--once the school year starts, she is alienated by all her old friends, and because she doesn't tell anyone what really happened, she falls into a deep depression.

Melinda spends most of her time in art class, or holed up in an abandoned janitor's closet she claims as her own, not saying a word to anyone. When her friend Rachel starts dating Andy Evans, though, Melinda feels obligated to tell her about the rape.

*End spoilers*

It's a very emotional, moving book that deals with all sorts of feelings of isolation, guilt and depression. I think it should be a definite must-read for all teenagers and adults. But apparently not everyone feels the same way.

Enter a man named Wesley Scroggins. He's both associate professor of management at Missouri State University and was a speaker at Reclaiming Missouri for Christ. I don't have anything against his religious beliefs, but I do have something against him calling Speak filthy and immoral. He called it soft porn, because it has two rape scenes.

1) The idea of sex itself is in no way the main point of the book.
2) How is rape soft porn? That part really disgusts me.

My main argument, however, is against the idea that kids and teens shouldn't be reading books like Speak because they can't handle them. Rape is a topic that teens need to know about, and keeping it out of the school system won't stop it from happening. As Veronica Roth said in her brilliant post on the subject: The world is broken. No matter how much time you spend covering your eyes, and covering your children's eyes, the world will still be broken when you uncover them., you can't shelter your kids forever. In my mind, sure, a seven-year-old probably shouldn't be reading Speak. But teenagers always read above their level, and reading about the horrible, ugly parts of the world help us to better understand the good as well as the bad. Just because you read a mystery novel about a psychopath doesn't mean you're going to go out and kill a dozen people.

Reading is just as much about what you take away from the book as what the book actually says. And reading a book like Speak definitely helped me better understand my classmates, and my world.

For a much more coherent piece on the subject, check out Laurie Halse Anderson's website here.

I don't think you have to give your kids, or the young people you know, free reign to read anything they want. Obviously some books are inappropriate until the ready is "ready". But you can't shield their eyes forever, and reading is all about choice. Who do I want to be today, what do I want to learn about today, what do I need to know?

Everything.

Love,

Erika

hug o' war

Every Saturday, we try to change things up at The Bookstore (capital letters just so you don't confuse it with a bookstore--a simple, run-of-the-mill place I don't work at). This isn't really that exciting. We change the mini-displays so there are new books up, and write a new quote.

These are both my jobs. And I love them.

I love exploring the fiction section (which I'm not allowed to hang out in too much, since I know it so well already) and finding new and exciting titles. I love picking out covers that make me go oooh! and putting them out for everyone to see.

But most of all, I love writing a new quote. It's pretty simple: you pick out a quote, poem, or saying you love, write it on the store's big white board, and put it out for display. The quote can be about books, or something that makes you think, or something that makes you laugh. You can pick anything, and that's why I was so freaked out when, last Saturday, it officially became my job.

I didn't know where to start or what to expect. Would my boss be okay with what I picked? Would anyone actually be able to read my writing?

This was today's pick:

Hug O' War by Shel Silverstein

I will not play at tug o' war.
I'd rather play at hug o' war,
Where everyone hugs
Instead of tugs,
Where everyone giggles,
And rolls on the rug,
Where everyone kisses,
And everyone grins,
And everyone cuddles,
And everyone wins.

It made me happy, and my boss was happy, and today was a good day. Some days you go with something that puts a smile on your face, and that's all.

Love,

Erika

simplicity is confusing

George Frideric Handel was a genius.

We're playing his piece, Sarabande, in concert band and it is fantastic. Our arrangement is really simple, but really, really beautiful. If you've never heard it, check it out right here.

I think that the simple things are often the most beautiful. I know that's not exactly an original idea--everyone's always saying, "Enjoy the simple things in life!"--but right now I feel the undeniable truth in it so strongly that I wanted to share. Like Handel's piece (although I'm sure a lot went in to writing it) a few notes strung together can say more than a whole orchestra. And don't get me started on Ode to Joy.

But some things can't be simple.

My favorite part of a horror movie has always been the beginning, when everyone is going about their normal lives, with no sign of the gruesome murder or deadly monsters to come. The tension is building, but no one is spurting blood.

I think that's a bad sign. How can you be a writer, how can you thrive off creating problems and obstacles for characters to overcome, when you breathe a sigh of relief when nothing is going wrong?

But now, I've come to an understanding. There's nothing wrong with enjoying a little down time. That being said, I need to know how to wreak some havoc, and toss in a few violins. Or trumpets. I do adore trumpets.

I'm sorry, I think I went off on about fifty different tangents right there.

Have a terrific Tuesday,

Erika