review: Water for Elephants

Hello there,

I'm sorry. I'll admit it, I've been a bad blogger and a bad friend. But there are more pressing issues to talk about today. Namely, an amazing book that I read in six hours today: Water for Elephants.


Life is good for Jacob Jankowski. He's about to graduate from veterinary school and about to bed the girl of his dreams. Then his parents are killed in a car crash, leaving him in the middle of the Great Depression with no home, no family, and no career. Almost by accident, Jacob joins the circus. There he falls in love with the beautiful performer Marlena, who is married to the circus' psychotic animal trainer. He also meets the other love of his life, Rosie the elephant. This lushly romantic novel travels back in forth in time between Jacob's present day in a nursing home and his adventures in the surprisingly harsh world of 1930s circuses. The ending of both stories is a little too cheerful to be believed, but just like a circus, the magic of the story and the writing convince you to suspend your disbelief. The book is partially based on real circus stories and illustrated with historical circus photographs.

So apparently, I am (or was) the only person in the entire world yet to read Water for Elephants. I kid you not. When I started working at the bookstore, I realized how few "Adult Fiction" books I had read, and because everyone was going on about this, I borrowed it from the library.

Basically: Oh my goodness. You know those books that are just so completely honest that you don't even grasp that they're fiction? Yeah, this was one of them. I was about a hundred pages in when I looked at the cover and realized that it was written by Sarah Gruen. Up till that point, I had been completely convinced that it was a real life memoir, or something.

There were parts of this book that were really abrasive. It was one of those books that you can hardly stand to read in a room with other people, in case you start yelling at one of the characters. And they didn't feel like characters--this is the first book I've read in a long time where the people in it felt as real as anyone else in my life.

I noticed something else. The beginning of the book was a big event, sure, but it didn't feel like the beginning. I felt like I was coming in in the middle of something--in the middle of Jacob's life--but in a good way. The story started long before I began reading it, and it will go on long after. I love a book like that, one that never dies.

I would absolutely 11100249348109834% recommend this book. Really, it was just fantastic. It had everything you could look for in a story: love, hate, sex, violence, anger, passion, honesty and tragedy. And I loved every second of it.

Have an amazing New Year, you guys. I'll be better in 2011, I promise.

Erika

***Quick addition: this book is apparently going to come out as a movie in 2011 starring, no way, Robert Pattinson. Urrrrgh, I hope he does it some justice.

three weeks in one post

It's funny, because I blog so sporadically (on a side note, sorry about that), a lot of things change in between my posts.

For example: In case you didn't know, all of my previous posts were brought to you by someone with dirty blond hair. As of yesterday, my hair is now super red. Like, this red:

My hair is actually long and curly, though, and thus looks much less cool than this picture.

Also, it's winter! Who saw that coming? I've decided to spend December doing lots of reading (because apparently I've been living in a book-free cave for the past month--oh right, NaNoWriMo!). I'm currently on the last of the Maximum Ride books, which are completely amazing. Next up: Water for Elephants. Because I like contrast.

ECLIPSE! Did you see it? Once in a lifetime lunar events don't happen every day, you know. We froze our butts off till one in the morning standing outside, watching the moon glow.

CHRISTMAS! Oh right, that whole "major holiday" thing. I personally love Christmas. The tree, the food, the family, the presents... Since I work in a bookstore, oh yes, all of my family members are getting books. And maybe a few other things, we'll see :)

I think that is about everything that has happened to me in the past forever. Hope to see you again, this time with a shorter intermission.

Erika

ya ya ya

I don't know very much about John Lennon. I couldn't tell you his parents names, or the year that he and Yoko met. But I've been listening to his music, and the Beatles, for as long as I can remember.

It's impossible for me to believe that he's been dead for twice as long as I've been alive.

Today, after school, we walked to the old mill. There isn't much to see there, anymore. Just some concrete walls and old oil barrels and stuff. And graffiti. So, naturally it was the perfect place for us to practice our vandalism skills.

Three of my friends and I made a stencil of a hand doing the peace sign, which we spray painted, along with: J.L. IMAGINE 1980

I would show you a picture, but, you know, cops. More like I can't get the memory card in my computer, oh my goodness.

Love,
Erika

if i were a fortune cookie...

Today, we had to research universities and university programs we might consider attending. Which basically means, what do you want to do for the rest of your life (the class is called 'Planning' as in, you have sixty-seven minutes; plan your future).

I was kind of freaking out. The thing is, I want to be a writer. There, I said it. So I suppose the obvious choice would be to study English, journalism or maybe creative writing. But that's not all I'm interested in! I love the sciences, and drawing, and history... And I'm petrified that if I go to school for a certain subject, I'll grow to hate it.

The other part to my two-headed conundrum is that there is really nothing you can do that will guarantee you succeed as or become a writer. It's not like some jobs, where you get a certain education that then qualifies you for a certain job. Bam, pow, shimmy. Just like that.

I feel like getting in a time machine and traveling twenty years into the future, just so I can have some idea of what I chose. So I can tell if I'm happy with it. But that would be cheating.

So I guess I have a question for you, great and vast inter webs: What did you study in university (or any kind of post-secondary education)? And, most importantly, did you enjoy it?

(A picture of Jake Gyllenhaal. Um, yeah, it's relevant.)

See you next time,

Erika

hello december

Oh, hey there.

AHHHHHHHHHHH!

Okay, so, that was basically my November, in an onomatopoeic (spelled that right on the first try, oh my goodness) nutshell.

Over the past thirty days, I did the following:

1. Wrote 51,175 words in seventeen days. Yay!

2. Was in a musical! (...Kind of. I played trumpet in the pit band for On the Town--if you were there, and you were like, hey, that's some snazzy trumpet playing, yes, it was, thanks to the two other, much more skilled trumpet players. So basically, I was not alone.)

3. Bought red hair dye. My hair is kind of dirty-blond-bordering-on-brown, so I'm going to dye it red one of these days. Horrible idea?

So I just thought I'd check in and say hello. Oh, and also mention, if you're a young writer living in BC, check out this site. I went to the writing camp last summer, and it was amazing!

Mmm, okay. Good stuff.

Hello, December.

Erika

how nano ate my soul (day six)

Hey there,

My, how you've grown. You were only this tall *gestures randomly somewhere around my knees* last time I saw you.

Okay, so maybe it's only been a few days. But! But, my lovelies, it has been a whole twenty-two thousand, six hundred and three words since we last spoke. I will win NaNo and finish a novel this month, even if it kills me--and means I have to repeat tenth grade from beyond the grave.

22,603. Nearly halfway there.

My novel this month is feeling a little silly. It's about a girl named Cassie who reads tarot cards in her spare time; a boy named Jude who's parents are addicts; an evil organization (because every good novel needs one!) called the VI who capture people with magical energy and bind their souls into rings that give the wearer "unspeakable powers."

*Deep breath* aaaand I've barely even touched on the plot. So far, I have a lot of drawn out dialogue, and unnecessary descriptions. I never really understood what people meant by saying, "Oh, well, the story doesn't really get going till page thirty..."

NOW I GET IT.

NaNo this year has meant a whole lot of missed homework, sleep deprivation, and rambling conversations with my support group (AKA other kids at school crazy--I mean, determined--enough to attempt NaNoWriMo this year) about my unoriginal ideas.

I have a funny feeling that this is like, the calm before the storm. That, even if I do finish NaNo and (oh my gosh I hope so) finish a novel, I'll have strained myself to the point that I will suffer a complete and utter mental breakdown in the days leading up to Christmas.

Did I mention I'm playing trumpet in the pit band for our town's musical (On the Town) this year?

Did I mention our annual sale is coming up at "the bookstore" meaning mucho hours and little sleep?

DID I MENTION HARRY POTTER AND THE DEATHLY HALLOWS (part one) IS COMING OUR NOVEMBER 19th?!

(is it just me, or does Harry look a bit sickly in this picture?)

'Nough said. No really, like, that is all.

Toodles, my friends. I shall see you again... in January?

OH MY GOD THE TIME JUST FLIES BY WHEN YOU'RE POUNDING YOUR FACE AGAINST THE KEYBOARD.

Love,

Erika

na-no-wri-mo

It’s October again, which, to many people, signifies Halloween, Thanksgiving, and the onslaught of some gloomy fall weather. But not me. For me, this month is the calm before the storm—base camp, if you will, stocked up with provisions and outlines, ready and waiting to tackle the vicious beast that comes out of hiding every year on November first.

NaNoWriMo.

Just to clarify, NaNoWriMo isn’t actually a mythical monster that devours souls and crushes dreams. It just feels that way, some days. NaNoWriMo stands for National Novel Writing Month.

It’s a challenge, basically, to write 50,000 words in the month of November. There’s no reward, besides seeing your word-count bar change to the flashy purple color of a winner, and a deep sense of pride (oh, right, and a finished novel!). So why even attempt it? A thousand word essay can be hard enough, why subject yourself to this kind of literary torture?

There are a few features of NaNoWriMo that make it almost completely different than any other writing challenge or community I’ve ever seen:

1. No Editing. The whole idea of NaNoWriMo is that you write as much as you can. Butt in chair, hands on keyboard, type away madly—that kind of thing. For the month of November, your task as a writer is to produce quantity. The quality bit can wait until December. This takes away a whole lot of pressure and makes the idea of writing a novel into something attainable.

2. The support. When you first visit nanowrimo.org and set up your account, you might notice something about the site. It isn’t a death trap. One of the things that makes NaNoWriMo so unique and so fun is that, on November first, you might be writing your own novel—but you’re not alone. There are hundreds of thousands of like-minded, slightly-insane writers rolling up their sleeves and typing away. You can make writing buddies, challenge each other to word wars, and make some great friends.

3. The forums. The site (nanowrimo.org) features a little subheading near the top—Forums. Who could’ve guessed that one little word could hold so much magic? I’m not kidding. The forums offer different pages for each genre, groups for teens (including separate pages for different ages, band geeks, NaNoWriMo participants who aren’t telling their parents about it—all started by the teens themselves), and, the Holy Grail of the site: The Adoption Society. There’s a thread completely devoted to adopting other people’s unused titles, lines, villain catchphrases, characters, snippets of dialogue, anything.

4. The pep-talks. All throughout November, Chris Baty and the other organizers of NaNoWriMo—plus a few famous authors—send out pep talks via email. Even beyond the forums—which are massive time-wasters, by the way, when you’re supposed to be working on your daily word count—these pep talks are hilarious, heartfelt reminders that you’re not alone. Plus, you learn some interesting facts about the world in general. For instance, I still remember a pep talk YA author Maureen Johnson wrote last year, in which I learned that koalas are smelly and carry disease. Still cute, though.

This year will be my fourth attempt at NaNoWriMo, and guess what? I’ve never won. Yes, sad as it is to admit that, it had to come out sooner or later. So why do I keep coming back? There’s an irrevocable truth that goes hand in hand with the very idea of NaNoWriMo—the more you write, the better you get.

There are a few different approaches you can take. There’s the prepared planner—you can have as many notes, characters, and outlines as you want, you just can’t start writing your novel until November (I'm trying this out for myself--I've only outlined chapter one, but it's already helping my plot). Or you can go with the tried and true strategy of completely winging it. Maybe you have a character name (Betsy), a bit of dialogue (“And then all our cows were zombies!”), or a rough idea (it’s like, Nancy Drew meets Jurassic Park).

If you do decide to sign up for NaNo this year, add me as a buddy! My username is love-Spencer (it's a long, boring story). Good luck with all your writing!

Love,

Erika

reality leaves much to the imagination

If you've been on Google in the past two days, you probably already know that today would've been John Lennon's 70th birthday. It's nearly impossible to think of the other event today--the 30th anniversary of his murder.


I was born fifteen years ago. This means, everything I say on this subject is one part things-I-know and one part things-I-think-I-know. I wasn't alive when the Beatles were together; I wasn't there when the fab four changed the world--or when John went on to turn giving peace a chance into a global movement. But I grew up singing, "I Wanna Hold Your Hand." This is the music I love, these are the stories I wish I had seen unfold.

That's what I love about John Lennon. You don't have to be smart or old or deep to appreciate his music. His message. His love and his passion. You just have to be.

If you're in Canada, have a fabulous Thanksgiving weekend.
If you're somewhere else, have a fabulous Tuxedo Day (tomorrow) and Bring Your Teddy Bear to Work Day (October 11th).

Love,

Erika

I remember...

Today, October 6th, is the birthday of a very good friend of mine. Scratch that--it's the birthday of someone who was my very good friend.

I don't mean this in a five-year-old, you're not my friend anymore! kind of way. We're neighbors, and when we were four years old, we were really close. Okay, so my memory of four-year-old-me isn't super clear, but I do know that we spent a lot of time together. But, over the last few years, we've grown apart.

He (the nameless-friend, of course) is very sporty. I... Well, I'm kind of not. I don't think it was us growing up that drove us apart, I think it was inevitable. Even if we stayed perpetually four-years-old, we were always really different people.

The point of all this? Well, today as we walked into English, I wished him a happy birthday. He seemed a little confused--he said thanks, but more in a, you remembered? kind of way.

I've always remembered his birthday, because it's the same day as mine (nine months difference, but whatever). Sure, it might be a little strange, but oh well.

Some days, I remember more than I feel I should. The way someone picks at their nails, an stranger's phone number, the color of someone's shoelaces. It can be weird. But there are sometimes things about a person that stand out to me.

What do you remember?

Erika

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

flight of the fifteen-year-old

Hello Saturday,

It's been a busy day. I worked for seven hours, all the while with a massive inferiority complex hovering over my head. Then I did stuff. Not sure what, but it took two hours. How do I know that? I didn't eat dinner till 8:00. I do not operate well on an empty stomach.

Earlier in the week, my science teacher was discussing study habits. He mentioned making goals, and, even though you could practically hear the class rolling their eyes, he had some interesting things to say.

According to my teacher, all sorts of studies have been done on written goals--not just goals in general, they have to be written down. If you have specific, detailed goals and you write them down, you're way more likely to achieve them.

That got my thinking.

Counting September, I have four months until I turn 16. I've decided there are a few things I want to do in these four months--I know sixteen isn't very old, but it's old to me. Which means that 800 years old is like, unimaginable ;)

While I am Fifteen, I will:

1. Attend a new yoga class
2. Complete at least two PE by correspondence assignments (out of five, I think)
3. Have the rough draft of my wip COMPLETE
4. Have an A average in all my classes
5. Practice cello and trumpet every other day
6. Go swimming

There. They're little things, but now that they're written down, there's nothing to stop me from achieving my goals :D

Oooh, I just love tagging things.

Erika

random post is random

I'm watching The Vampire Diaries, which I've just recently discovered I kind of love. At first, I pretty much ruled it out. Just another vampire story, right?

In many ways, yes. Human girl falls in love with vamp guy. But it has so much more--awesome dialogue, some serious violence, totally hot actors (what? It's true, visual aids do help), and vampires that are legitimately scary. They snarl, their faces go all black, and they kill each other. What more could you ask from a vampire?

Basically, you shouldn't judge a book by it's cover--or a TV show by it's main paranormal feature...? Yeah, no, don't even pay attention to that.

In other news, I was on Bing.com (just to look at the pictures, I swear. I'm a Google girl at heart) earlier and saw this, the pangolin:

Do you know that awkward moment, when characters on a TV show or movie are kissing, having a serious make-out session, or *fading to black*, and someone else is watching the show with you? Yeah, my dad's in the kitchen, and I'm watching the aforementioned Vampire Diaries. Wow, that's awkward.

One last thing, just to make this random post truly random: I learned in Planning class today that teenagers need exactly nine hours and twenty minutes of sleep to be properly rested. So, don't you be staying up too late!

Don't worry Damon, I still love you. Even if you can be totally psycho.

"I do believe in killing the messenger. Know why? It sends a message." - Damon Salvatore

Thursday has been a bit random. Not bad, just... random.

Love,

Erika

visual inspiration

I was reading a blog post by the lovely Steph Bowe and have decided to follow her lead--I'm going to post about visual inspiration! Pictures and photos are a huge inspiration to me. I like to be able to see what my characters look like, and am always on the hunt for good picts. All of the following images are from We Heart It (actually, I stole one from Caitlin's blog!) and are my inspiration for my current WIP:















Oh my gosh, I have a lot of pictures. Anyways, feel free to take any you like, and make your own post on visual inspiration. I love seeing all these pretty pictures :)

Erika

number two pencil

Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh.

Today was the first day of school. My first day of tenth grade. The first time I heard my science teacher's Yoda impersonation.

I've never dreaded the first day of school. I always feel more anxious than anything. Last night I couldn't sleep, and when I woke up at seven AM this morning, I barely made it to the shower without collapsing.

My classes this semester?

Planning - We're going to be focusing on our future career plans, nutrition, and budgets. Fun stuff. Minus the fact that I have no real career plans, I already know a weird amount of information about nutrition (seriously. Want a good source of polyunsaturated fat? Eat some salmon), and my version of a budget is the cow-shaped-piggy-bank on my desk.

English - English, English, English. This makes me happy. And I have it with a boy I was friends with when we were, like, six years old. That makes me happy. However, we're starting with a unit on essays. Slightly less fun.

Art - Eek! I'm extremely thrilled to have Art class for a whole semester (half the school year). And I have it with two of my good friends. So stoked for our pottery unit :)

Band/Science - We have band all year round, paired with an academic course. I play trumpet. I am very excited. I need to stop using "I" statements.

My semester looks pretty fun--but that means, starting in February, I have all the crazy hard academic classes. Woo-hoo.

My friend K and I stayed late after school (so late that our science/home room teacher was like, "Get out of here!" In a joking way... I think) decorating our lockers. I love putting pictures up in my locker, even though I have a stupid bottom locker (meaning I need to kneel down on the ground and jostle elbows with my "neighbors" every time I need to get my books). I get to decide what I want to look at for the coming year--what will inspire me or make me laugh.

As of today, I'll get to stare at Finn from Glee (AKA Cory Monteith)'s face every time I open my locker. I've got to be honest, I'm pretty excited :D


Love,

Erika

500 Books of Summer

School starts tomorrow. I have less than twenty-four hours of summer left and, rather than partying it up, I've pretty much resigned myself to staying home, being dull. I'm sick, I didn't sleep well, and I need to clean my room or my dad will cut off my pinkie toes (not really, I was just trying to think of some kind of horrible torture).

I've been waiting for a while to talk about my favorite books of summer, so here goes. I could've sworn I read more, but I suck at reading. Really, I can't read more than one book at a time or I completely forget what's going on--and I'm picky :P

500 Books of Summer (okay, more like ten):

1. Porcupine by Meg Tilly - MG Contemporary - She was in Fame and I MET HER! Such a cool person, and this book was bursting with voice, but the chapters--or lack thereof; the book was arranged by seasons--were a little confusing.

2. The Gryphon Project by Carrie Mac - YA Urban Fantasy - I'm not really sure what genre this fits in, but I loved the idea of a society where people have more than one life--and the amount of lives you have determines your class. I actually read this as an ARC I got from work. It was a good story, but I felt like it fell flat at some points, despite the interesting characters.

3. Along for the Ride by Sarah Dessen - YA Contemporary - This was my first experience reading anything by Sarah Dessen. I loved how the MC's parents were really well defined characters, but it was a bit too wholesome and good hearted for my taste ;)

4. Lock and Key by Sarah Dessen - YA Contemporary - I didn't like this book. I just couldn't connect with the main character, and, as well written as it was, I felt like there were things that could have been left out.

5. Dead Tossed Waves by Carrie Ryan - YA Dystopian - Is this Dystopian? I wasn't sure if YA Zombie counted as a genre, but it definitely should, and Carrie Ryan can be the poster child. I am legitimately terrified of zombies, but I liked this book, and I liked how much it scared me.
But I found myself at odds with the MC some times, and wishing a few lines had been left out.

6. Shiver and Linger by Maggie Stiefvater - YA Urban Fantasy - I absolutely loved Shiver. One of the main characters, Sam, is so poetic and vulnerable, I couldn't wait to read his chapters--and it kept me on the edge of my seat. In Linger, I really liked the contrast of Cole and Isobel's voices, but I didn't have the same sense of urgency as in Shiver--until the end, that is.

7. The Darkest Powers trilogy by Kelley Armstrong - YA Urban Fantasy - Definitely one of my favorite reads this summer. I loved the main character and the fact that she wasn't all, "Woo-hoo, magic!" right away. She had to adjust to the idea of having 'powers' just like any other person would.

8. Break by Hannah Moskowitz - YA Contemporary - I liked this book, but at times I had a hard time connecting to it. Still, a great, realistic read with dialogue that made me laugh out loud several times.

9. Mockingjay by Suzanne Colins - YA Dystopian - OMGWOW. This book was the perfect way to end the Hunger Games trilogy (for the record, the first book was my favorite), and my friend and I have been discussing it in whispers every time we see each other.

10. The Demon's Lexicon by Sarah Rees Brennan - YA Urban Fantasy - Again, I suck at determining genres, but oh well. I'm not done this yet, but I love it already. And I wanted this list to be an even ten. I love Nick's dialogue, and all of the characters, and I feel like there's just enough internal monologue to give the story dimension without slowing down the pace.

This summer, I also had my first experience Beta Reading! I beta-read and line-edited Someone Left to Love by the lovely and patient Dana-Lynn Mauldin. It was a nice read, very emotional, and very well written. I can't wait to see it published :)

All in all, I really need to read more. Maybe the rainy days of Fall will inspire me. So, what are your books of summer?

Love,

Erika

I me you we

bSoundtrack: Uh, I'm watching "Camp Rock 2"... Yeah.
Words: +2500 in a strange spurt of inspiration

When I was starting high school, I had to go to a workshop for teen girls (I'm pretty sure everyone in our grade had to attend--I don't even know why, it was just mandatory). It was supposed to help girls talk about and work through their "issues". Or something.

One of the main things they talked about at the workshop was body image. The instructors had us each read one line from a poem called something like, "I Am Me." It was all about accepting yourself as who you are--your good points, talents, attractive qualities, and all the bad stuff, too.

The end of the poem is the only part I really remember:

"I am me. And I am okay."

When it was done and everyone was clapping awkwardly and shooting each other weird looks, I was sitting their with a stupid smile plastered on my face, thinking "Bullshit."

Body image is a huge issue for a lot of people--girls and boys, women and men. And so many people sell themselves short.

Some of my friends go on and on, talking down about how they look, what they wear, who they are. I'm no shining example, nor do I claim to be, but I don't think that talking yourself down is any way to treat a person. You wouldn't look at a complete stranger and say, "You're ugly," so how can you possibly do that when you look in a mirror? It's disrespectful.

I know I'm generalizing. Not everyone hates how they look--a lot of people love their bodies, their minds, their personalities (though not necessarily in that order). I think a lot of writers make this generalization, as well. Everyone deals with self confidence problems, but a confident character here or there can be a nice change.

I don't mean you should walk around saying, "I'm awesome, I'm the best, I win at life." That doesn't make you awesome, that just makes you a jerk.

I think it's finding the balance that's key. You can't be self-absorbed, in a good or bad way. But next time you're looking in a mirror, try this line instead:

I am me and I am fantastic. Beautiful. Unique. Talented. Extraordinary. Brilliant. Lovely just the way I am.

Because you are.

Love,

Erika

PS: I don't meant to get all motivational-speaker on you. I just had something on my mind.

and this

So this...

“I hear voices,” I say, stopping abruptly.

He whirls around, face totally blank, and says, “And I see dead people—face it, Emilia, you’re not the only one eligible for fucked-up-citizen-of-the-year award.”

...Is the only line I have written for a story that I sort of want to write. It's about a fountain. I know, lame, right? Whatever. I guess I have a thing for water features.

asdfjkl;

Erika

to be read

What are you reading these days?

Ever since I started working at a bookstore, my to-be-read pile has grown exponentially. Yesterday, someone actually bought my staff recommendation! It was fantastic! (And it was On the Jellicoe Road by Melina Marchetta, one of my all time favorite books.)

I'm currently reading The Demon's Lexicon by Sarah Rees Brennan, review soon to come (and this time I mean it!).

My To Be Read pile is looking a little like this:

1. Looking for Alaska by John Green - I've started this book twice and still haven't gotten through it. I know it's an amazing poster child for YA, and there are parts of it that I love, but I really haven't gotten into it.

2. Paranormalcy by Kiersten White - I ordered this through the store and it arrived yesterday. I can't wait to read it! All the reviews online make it sound absolutely fantastic.

3. Harry Potter by JK Rowling - I'm determined to re-read this series, starting from book one. I have read all seven Harry Potter books, but only once. I don't know why.

4. Looking for Alibrandi by Melina Marchetta - I found this in a used bookstore and did a little dance that seriously freaked out all the employees. So excited to read this!

5. My Name is Memory by Ann Brashares - A few of my friends have read this, and they all say it's really awesome. I'm a big Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants fan :)

6. Beautiful Creatures by Kami Garcia and Margaret Stohl - Again, I've heard a lot of fantastic reviews of this book, and the cover looks so fancy and cool! (Exhibit A to the left.)

7. The History of Love by Nicole Krauss - I read the first few pages while I was putting some books away and it sounds really cool.

So, what's on your book list? Do you have any suggestions for reading material on windy fall days (like today--there's some blue sky in the distance, but I refuse to let it get me down)?

Love,

Erika

chicken soup Monday

Soundtrack: December, 1963 (Oh, What a Night) by The Four Seasons
Words: +100 because I cannot for the life of me write a good opening scene

Hello!

It's Monday, and a what glorious Monday it has been. Today was good.

I decided to go on a walk, not really sure where I'd end up, and found myself at the library. Okay, to tell the truth, I had planned on going to the library to pay for the book I lost (eek! I know, horrible, terrible, no good thing to do. Do not steal from libraries!). But, when I got there, I lost my nerve. Oh, and I was a bit distracted by a book sale!

The library in my town holds book sales a few times a year. All fiction is twenty-five cents, or five for a dollar. It's pretty much the best time of the year, besides Christmas :)

Anyways, I left almost an hour (and several books) later with a borrowed copy of Fallen by Lauren Kate that I can't wait to read. Next, I bought carrots, chicken and different colored pasta. Why? CHICKEN SOUP MONDAY!

I've been craving chicken soup for weeks. I have a bit of a cold and I've always believed in the healing power of good, hot food. Maybe it's a mindset thing. Whatever. If it tastes good, I'm happy.

Now, to tie this all back with a poor writing analogy!

The soup I made was good, but it wasn't great. And I think I know why. To begin with, I simmered the carrots and onions together with the chicken skins. But, in hindsight, I should've seared the meat, too. And I should've let them cook for long enough to be really delicious and crispy. I didn't push it far enough.

I think, in writing, cooking and life, you have to know where to draw the line. When things start to burn, everyone can smell it and it's time to turn off the heat. But you've got to go right to the breaking point--right to the edge--in order for the flavors to come out strong enough.

Yeah, when I said poor writing analogy, that was a major understatement.

All I wanted to say is that the first draft is all about going for it. Toss everything in pan, and watch it simmer. Even if it doesn't taste good, you can always go back and edit.

Oh yeah, and don't add your garlic too early. That's a big no-no.

Love,

Erika

here comes the rain

Soundtrack: Poison Oak by Bright Eyes
Words: +1800 on a very strange new project that... doesn't really make any sense :)

It's been raining nearly every day this week. I love the rain. When I was little, I would get so excited for night to come, just so I could lay in bed and listen to the clouds cry.

Don't even get me started on thunder storms.

But the sun has to come out eventually. That bright, brilliant ball of light breaking through the clouds and shining on a new day. For many people, it means hope and joy. Yeah, I guess so. For me, the sun coming out has always been the end of something.

I've read a lot of books and watched a lot of movies, and I don't think I will ever totally let go of the belief that anything can happen after dark. And, under cover of rain cloud, I like to think that might life could become fantastic.

Anyways. Here's hoping some seriously bad weather finds it's way to your skies.

Love,

Erika

crazy screaming fans = awesome

Soundtrack: Standing on the Shore by Empire of the Sun
Words: 0, again, but I'VE BEEN READING!

I think the every writer, once they get to a certain point, dreams of publication. Whether they realize those dreams or not, it can be pretty inspiring to imagine hoards of people dressed up as your characters, waiting in line for a packed reading/signing event a la Ms. Rowling.

Harry Potter is amazing. If you've read my blog before, you may know that I adore everything about it: the series, the characters, the writing, the magic. It's been a while since a series of books has inspired such utter fanaticism. Sure, you have Twilight, but let's be honest. That's mostly about the abs.

Just in case you don't understand my rambling, I bought a copy of Mockingjay by Suzanne Collins today :D :D :D

In case you haven't read them (which, by the way, you definitely should!), Mockingjay is the third book in the Hunger Games trilogy, a YA dystopian series featuring the daring, the stubborn, the AWESOME Katniss Everdeen, who is the most kick-butt heroine I've read about in a while.

Basically, I spent eight hours sitting on the couch, reading. I haven't done this in a while--the last time I can really remember reading non-stop is when the Deathly Hallows came out. Basically: book fanaticism, in my mind, is totally freaking awesome.

Yeah, this post isn't really going anywhere. I just wanted to tell you that having something to dream about, be it a big, glamorous release party or crazed fans chanting "PEETA!" can get you through some tough moments. I'm sure it certainly hasn't hurt Mrs. Collins.

Of course, fame and fortune (not that these are guaranteed what so ever when it comes to writing. Scratch that--just assume these things won't happen and move on) can't validate you're writing if you aren't confident with it. Screaming fans are one thing, a truly beautiful, quiet, unimposing book is another. And if you do dream big about publishing one day, you have to realize that you're book may inevitably be neither.

So, in closing, buy yourself a copy of Mockingjay, read read read, then go back to writing. And, just for a moment, give yourself permission to be completely and utterly self absorbed. Picture the autographing, the smiling fans, the flash of cameras...

Whoever you are, reading this, take a moment to realize just how much you rock.

...And then get back to work. Right, I should probably do that sometime :)

Love,

Erika

get in the writing mood

Soundtrack: Go Zombie by Zombie Girl. If you're writing a zombie book (although it would've been much more unexpected to say, if you're writing a heartfelt romance) you might want to listen to this band. It's about zombies--gosh, you don't say! Cool songs but... a little creepy.

Words: big fat zero. I've been plotting--does that count? No, didn't think so.

It's August 22nd and I've only posted 4 times this entire month.

WHAT IS THIS MADNESS?!

So today I thought I'd share my ways to get in the "writing mood". First and foremost, having something to write about helps. But other than that, what helps you write? What gets your Word Processor shaking with excitement? Man, that sounds weird...

ANYWAYS! There are a few things that I like to have around me in order to write write write with few distractions. Here you go, Erika's FIVE STEPS TO GET IN THE WRITING MOOD:

Step 1: Boil water for tea. Preferably Earl Gray. Bonus points if you have a tea kettle that you put on the stove top--the kind that screams when the water is boiled. That TOTALLY WORKS if you're writing a thriller :)

Step 2: Put on your fuzzy slippers. Bonus points if they're shaped like animals--mine are hedge hogs named Phineas and Dumbledore. This way you can write in style and comfort.

Step 3: Light some candles. Bonus points if they smell like something delicious. I don't know about you, but when I'm staring at the computer screen, trying desperately to fill the blank page, I am ACUTELY aware of my surroundings--including the smells. My house smells funny. It smells like the type of house that contains two cats, two teenagers and one very smelly dog. Hence the need for DELICIOUS SMELLING CANDLES!

Step 4: Select a soundtrack. Some days I can't get any writing done if there's music playing (if it's something really catchy, I find myself typing the lyrics instead of what I'm supposed to be working on)--other days, it seems too quiet without itunes blaring in the background. Do you listen to music while you write? Or do you need COMPLETE AND UTTER SILENCE?

Step 5: Adopt a British accent. When I was little, I thought all authors had British accents, regardless of their ethnicity. When I read my writing out loud, I almost always use a (bad) British accent. It just makes my writing sound so much... fancier :D Triple extra bonus points if you happened to actually BE British--in which case, hello!

There you go. My ways to "get in the mood". Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.

Happy Sunday,

Erika

PS: CAPITAL LETTER OVERLOAD? NO WAYYYYY!

embrace your inner flake

Soundtrack: The Garden by Mirah
Words: About 50... Yes, a major low, I know.


Some days, I feel completely devoted to my work in progress. To be honest, this doesn't happen often. When I'm first starting out I think all of my ideas are brilliant--then we spend more time together and I start to notice their little flaws...

WIP leaves hairs in the sink, talks with their mouth open and never puts the milk back in the sink after it makes tea. To be fair, I'm probably guilty of all these faults, too. But when you're preparing to spend a lot of time with your story, it's important that the two of you can get along.

In June, I was working on a very conceptual (that really deserves air quotes) novel about summer and seeing the future. By July, I had upgraded to--no way!--a superhero story. Aaand then, by mid-August, I switched again, this time to my current WIP, a story about loss and old ladies (um, kind of).

What I'm about to say is totally counter-intuitive and in total support of the dreaded SNI (Shiny New Idea), but I really feel like you have to be working on something else in order to have your best ideas. You have to be totally immersed in the writer-mindset in order to pick up on the little nuances of life that can become the best stories.

Man, that sounds pretentious.

I'm definitely the wrong person to be talking about this (huh, then why am I talking about this?) considering I've never finished a novel. But I wanted to share my most recent pearl of wisdom (again, picture the air quotes).

Sitting around, waiting for an idea to burst out of the subconscious just doesn't work for me. I wish it did. Some days, I pretend it does just to justify being lazy--"It's research!"

I genuinely believe that writing begets writing. You have to be out there, working your heart out, bearing your soul.

Go on, bear your soul :)

Erika

teaser tuesday

Soundtrack: 1, 2, 3, 4 by the Plain White T's
Words: +200


*Gasp* I almost forgot today was Tuesday. I was working--at a bookstore, with calendars, where the day of the week is completely clear--all day, and I was convinced it was Wednesday.

For once, in over a month, I'm putting the teaser in Teaser Tuesday. Will, one of the main characters in my new, weird summer story, is a boy with a guitar.

Will:

So, what happened today? I got up, had a shower, and brushed my teeth. I know, I brush my teeth before I eat breakfast, it’s weird. That way, when I eat my cereal, my mouth still feels a little tingly.

Jack would understand.

I waded through the piles of gift baskets and bouquets to the couch, where Dad was sitting. He dipped his newspaper, a greeting I took to say, hi son, I know I took this holiday to spend time with you, but the sports page is more interesting. Don’t try to fight it, just get yourself some cereal.

Grandpa was down by the dock, I guessed by his absence at the kitchen table. He never slept past 6 AM, always ate Weetabix for breakfast, and loved his boat more than any living thing. I kind of admired his passion for it, because he knew that a pile of metal and rust-resistant paint wouldn’t let him down.

I was feeling all angsty and depressed, so I figured I might as well make up some gloomy riff and sing about it. I grabbed my guitar from its place of honour beside the table and slung the strap around my shoulder. And that’s when it happened: Hurricane Claire.

“Hey, Lenny,” she said, bursting through the door like she owned the place. With Claire, formalities weren’t a big deal.

She started calling me Lenny, short for Lennon, the first time she heard me sing. I was down by the dock, sure that I was alone, when she started singing along. Badly. I knew I was nowhere near as good as John Lennon, but you’d never get her to believe that.

Claire hopped up onto the table and patted her bare knees, humming what sounded like I Wanna Hold Your Hand.

“Guess what?” she asked, grinning.

“What?” I put my guitar down and took a seat at the table.

“Emma’s back,” she answered giddily and started patting her knees again, this time to some made up song that only she could hear.

“Emma...” I repeated, trying to see if saying the name would bring back any memories—-no luck.

Claire clicked her tongue in irritation and said, “Emma Proskova, my cousin. You know, Em, Emmy, Em-who-will-never-win-an-Emmy-because-she-sucks-at-acting. She was Juliet in that play, like, eight years ago. God, has it really been that long? I feel old.”

Claire ran a finger along the side of her face, tracing an imaginary wrinkle. “You’re not old,” I said. “And you’re not making any sense. Emma?”

I remembered the play. One summer, Claire decided to rewrite all of Shakespeare’s most famous plays, starting with Romeo and Juliet. Jack was Romeo and half of the lines didn’t make any sense. I remembered performing it for our parents who all applauded at the end—even Dad, an English teacher, who winced at almost every line. Oh yeah, Billy Shakespeare was pissing himself with laughter, wherever he was.

There you go! As I was trying to edit it, I realized it's a very rough draft and doesn't totally fit with Will's voice. I'm not sure if I should continue with this story or go back to my abandoned superhero thingymajigger. Sigh. Life and writing can be very confusing, sometimes.

Love,

Erika

a short salute to my brother

Soundtrack: Jasper by Aidan Knight
Words: +1500 on a new summer fling


Shortly after publishing my last blog post, I realized that I had hit the big one-oh-oh. My blog now has officially one hundred posts :)

Looking back, I've had some hits and some misses, to use a sports metaphor. I'm watching the Simpsons and they're playing tennis. Anyways, my blog is like a little piece of me, internet sized. For my 101st post, I felt like I should write about something special. Since I've been talking about writing as a boy, the first thing that came to mind was my brother.

Today I thought I worked at 1:00. In fact, I was sure of it. So when my boss called me at 11:15, I was completely surprised--and completely ashamed. Luckily my brother, who just got his full license a few months ago, pulled up his Yellow Submarine pajamas and gave me a ride.

My brother is awesome. I don't say that nearly enough and I usually think it most when I'm somewhere else.

We can be very different. I worry almost constantly whereas my brother is unnervingly laid back. But we also have a lot in common. We both love indie rock, the Beatles, potato pancakes and butter chicken.

Sorry this post sucks. It was meant to be heartfelt and, okay, I'll admit it, a little sappy. But I'm going to cut it short because I have to go. And my brother's home.

One hundred and one. This one's for you, Martin :)

Erika

PS: He explained the "I mustache you a question" picture. Say it out loud and it makes sense ;)

boys boys boys

bSoundtrack: Fires by Band of Skulls
Words: +3700 on my WIP because I did NOTHING ELSE yesterday

I'm being such a girl about being a boy.

I don't mean being a boy as in cross dressing, borrowing my brother's stuff, or cutting my hair off with a sword and dawning armor, a la Mulan. I mean writing from a boy's point of view.

At first I was being completely ignorant. I figured, boys, huh? Well, obviously all they think about are their "private parts" and objectifying women. Wow, that's just as bad, if not worse than a male writer writing as a girl and thinking, make up? Check. Body image issues? Check. Totally obsessed with sparkly boys? Check. Man, this character rocks!

I decided that the best way to learn to write as a boy would be to look back on some of the books I've read that have awesome male characters.

1) Shiver by Maggie Stiefvater. I'm not even done this book (I bought it yesterday--employee discount, squee!) and I'm already in love with Sam Roth. Instead of being all serious and practical, he breaks events down into song lyrics. He's romantic and fragile and really fun to read. I'm really glad I'm reading this book because it's reminded me of something I really need to remember: you don't have to write uber masculine characters that shoot everything in sight just for them to read as a guy. Write the kind of guy you'd want to know--the one whose head you'd really like to be inside.

2) Break by Hannah Moskowitz. I liked this book because it does a great job of showing the relationships between brothers. Just like girls, boys come with baggage--friends, family, past events--and writing about a character, singular, will never be as powerful (in my opinion!) as exploring that character's relationships with others. In Break, Jesse, Jonah and Will all have issues. Jesse has tons of serious food allergies, Will's a baby who won't stop screaming and Jonah is determined to break every bone in his body. Those things alone make them strong, interesting characters--but it's their reactions to each others' issues that make them really stand out as individuals.

3) The Darkest Powers trilogy by Kelley Armstrong. I'm not just saying this because I'm a total fangirl over these books--though it does help. I love Derek and Simon, two of the boys who are at a group home with the main character, Chloe. Derek is incredibly anti-social and aggressive, while Simon is pleasant, approachable and artsy. In this case, it would be easy to say, "Derek's bad, Simon's good," but good books are rarely so black and white. I'm glad I read these books because they reminded me of how important it is to have a back story that makes sense. It's easy to write a mean character but it's better to write a mean character who has a reason for being mean. Do they pick on people because they don't feel accepted? Maybe they dump every guy they meet within a few dates for fear of getting rejected themselves because someone dumped them in their past.

Okay, crappy examples, I know. The point is back story can equal motivation. It gives a character past events and choices that influence what they do now. It makes it easier for the reader to sympathize with a character, even if they are mean. Guys are damaged too.

I've been away for a little while because I was at my grandparents' house. It gave me some time to write, swim, and bask in what's left of summer (insert sad face). A seventeen hour drive later and here I am, over joyed to have my wireless back.

:)

Erika

three, two, one

Blogging is hard. I've just sort of noticed this. Lately, as I'm sure you've noticed, I've been having a hard time coming up with interesting ideas for blog posts. Not saying any of my ideas were interesting before now, but at least I had ideas.

I've been beta reading, working (I helped a customer today! Oh my goodness, I was awful. Better luck next time?), writing fanfiction and writing the tiniest bit of original work. Oh, right, and having a life--but lately that's been taking a back seat, in part because it's so disgustingly hot out all the time.

Blogging is hard, and all the people out there who manage to do it daily--or even regularly--with some splash of originality and flare absolutely amaze me. That's why I read blogs. The small scraps of insight you can get of another person's life.

That's kind of why I have a blog. Mostly it's just for selfish reasons, to document my life and what I'm interested in.

But that's basically all we do in life. Try our best to be remembered after we're gone.

I will remember you :)

Erika

it was a dark and stormy night...

...I know, cliche, only this time it really is! There's a thunderstorm raging outside, it's pouring rain, and I couldn't be happier.

Just thought I'd wish you all a wonderful and 'bad' weather for all. I think there's something about the lightning that helps spark new story ideas--get it? Spark?

Wow, I'm a loser.

Love,
Erika

my new job

Soundtrack: I Will Follow You into the Dark by Death Cab for Cutie
Words: +2097 on yet another project I don't really care about.

Oh my goodness.

Today was my first day of work at a local bookstore. It's possibly the most perfect job I ask for and the day went pretty well. I labeled books, put them on the shelves, stood around awkwardly--you know the drill.

I was wearing a skirt and t-shirt because my boss--wow, how awesome is it to use that word--doesn't allow jeans. My brother was the only one home and thus I demanded he give me advice on what to wear. He did--it just wasn't good advice.

The job is so great, I spent the whole day waiting for someone to jump out and yell, "You just got punk'd!" (I really hate that show).

Anyways, I thought I'd tell all of you that I have yet another--mindless excuse--good reason for not blogging quite so regularly. I am, as of today, officially part of the work force.

Oh my gosh, I hope I didn't jinx it.

Love,
Erika

it all comes back to books

Soundtrack: Wise Man by Liam Finn
Words: Nothing. Gosh, how sad is that? But, to be fair, I've just recently started writing fanfiction again (I know, a little pathetic, but hey, how else am I supposed to get my Harry Potter fix?) which means... 1825 words! Woo-hoo technicalities!

Well, look who it is. Little Miss If-I-don't-blog-for-long-enough-maybe-someone-awesome-and-productive-will-hack-my-account-and-do-it-for-me! It's been a busy few days.

Yesterday I was babysitting two little girls (5 and 6 years old) for four and a half hours. Four and a half. ARGGGHH!

So once they tired themselves out (running, fighting, screaming--I'm not exaggerating at all, but really, they weren't that bad. I love little kids--in short doses), they picked out a movie to watch. It ended up being some boring, mildly disturbing cartoon show where the characters sing about how much they love each other and, of course, no one wears pants but, when they were picking out what to watch, I saw that they had a few Harry Potter DVDs.

Harry Potter was a huge part of my life, growing up. I understand that it has been and will be a big, important, life changing thing for a lot of people--and that's fantastic--but kids like the girls I was babysitting aren't going to grow up with the tantalizing fear, exhilaration, laughter, sadness, happiness and overwhelming love that came from waiting in line for hours at the midnight release of a soon-to-be-read-in-one-sitting Harry Potter book.

Books like these, books that stretch our emotions and experiences, teach us about ourselves.

Reading about a character who faces certain obstacles, perils, decisions--you can't help but think about how you would face them. Though, to be fair, I have absolutely no idea if I'd be able to withstand a dementor or have the courage to ride a hippogriff. Actually, because my friends and I are such geeks, earlier today one of my friends asked me if I would enter the Tri-Wizard tournament. I said no, but I can't be sure.

Basically, this whole post was an excuse to fangirl over Harry Potter--but still, when you read a book, good or bad, you become a part of that world. You, the reader, have just as much of an emotional arc as the characters do.

I think that's why I love reading and I love writing so much. I love being put in someone else's shoes and being able to see their world, live their story.

Maybe I didn't learn everything I know about myself from books, but definitely a good portion of it :)

Love,
Erika