Sunday, January 23, 2011

The Carving - Part Nine

Well, this week went by fairly quickly, didn't it? I feel like I just sat down to pound out last Sunday's writing piece >.< Here's some more of The Carving. I've hit a rough patch. It's like I've suddenly lost hold of the story. I know what's supposed to happen next but I just can't get it to come out at all right on the paper and I feel like the characters are all mad me up. Just have to keep going, I suppose...This little bit is the part I started to write while realizing everything was going wrong...I stopped to take some time to pull myself together.
_____

Two weeks passed before she found another Daretro [ooh, let’s give a name for Damien’s treasures, haha.] [Damn, I hate how this Marie character has transformed so much. TIME TO BEAT HER BACK INTO SHAPE! Okay. Here goes. Mountains month! Then meadow month! Then forest month! Ooh boy, messed that up. So. Two months of the story is missing here. Will fill it in later? She found some stuff and put it in her bag >.<]

Few words were exchanged between the trio during that time. Marie had satisfied her desire to speak when she had picked Reepicheep and the others had nothing to say. They followed a narrow path through the forest . The path had been there far before the forest had begun to sprout. It was a well worn path. Often the trio found themselves accompanied by deer whose legs were far too long for their bodies or squirrels whose tails were as soft as goose down [geezus >.<]. The trees never reached more than triple [Marie’s height]. They were made of wispy branches that looked as if they would crumble [if] touched. [The trees] never reached more than triple Marie’s height and the canopy was not so dense as to block the light. The leaves barely shifted, even when there was a breeze. There was something odd about the leaves. Marie tried to look closely at them, but she could never seem to hold one in her gaze. It was as though they were constantly humming in place, never to be properly seen. The way they reflected light, Marie almost believed they were made out of stained class. Each leaf was its own shade of green. Not a single shade was repeated.

What happened to my nice little story? ;_; This is so terrible, I want to cry ^^;

Extra Books - January 17 to 23

  •  On Zen Practice by Taizan Maezumi and Bernie Glassman
    • Published: October 2002 (most recent edition)
    • Genre: Spiritual non-fiction
    • Why I picked it up: Interested in Zen Buddhism
    • Rating: 3.5 stars
    • Challenges: 100+
    • My Thoughts: 
      • This wasn't a book I read for creative writing purposes so I don't have too much to say about it. I read it to learn more about certain spiritual practices I have a growing interest in.
      • This book is an anthology of different talks and such on a variety of subjects and is a very good introduction for a 'beginner' like me. Lots of topics are covered, enough to give me a starting point/jumping point which is what I was looking for. An easy and helpful read!

Graham Moore - The Sherlockian


Author: Graham Moore
Title: The Sherlockian
Published: December 2010
Publisher: Penguin
Length: 346 pages
Genre: Mystery
Why I picked it up: Fan of Sherlock Holmes stories, read a favourable recommendation in the local newspaper
Rating: 3.5 stars
Challenges: 100+ 
Buy: Barnes and Noble | Chapters | Check your local bookstore!

The Sherlockian was the third book I tried to read this week and apparently third time's the charm, for I very much enjoyed this book far more than the other two I tried to struggle through! I really like the idea of Sherlock Holmes. After seeing the Robert Downey Jr. film and reading Neil Gaiman's 'A Study in Emerald' I finally got around to reading A Study in Scarlet. I've also watched Steven Moffat's Sherlock, loved it. I'm halfway through The Sign of Four right now. I've probably spent more time on Arthur Conan Doyle and Sherlock Holmes' Wikipedia pages than I have reading the actual books...Basically, I like Holmes but I'm not one of those people who have read all the books and scorn adaptations. I like the characters and I like the community surrounding the books and I like all the analyzing of the stories and the real world facts and such. (I'm kind of like one of those people who like biographies of authors but not the author's actual works, heh). Just wanted to clarify that before I continue with my thoughts. I can't really speak to the accuracy or factuality of the story and I presume I would have enjoyed the book even more if I was more of a Sherlock fan, but I am enough of a fan to have enjoyed this story.

The Sherlockian tells two stories in alternating chapters. There is the story of what Arthur Conan Doyle was up to during the period for which his diaries are missing and the story of a new member of the Baker Street Irregulars trying to solve the mystery of a murder and the location of the missing diaries. I enjoyed both stories equally, which is something that doesn't happen often. They blended well with one another. Even if the characters and plot were sometimes dull or at least, not too exciting, the prose made up for it. Moore's prose is easy to read, smooth and flowing. I had fun reading this book. Even though it was a murder mystery, 'fun' is the adjective that keeps popping into my mind. Fun to read, easy to read, enjoyable to read. It was a murder mystery that someone like me, who normally despises murder mysteries, could enjoy. (Moore used the characters' first names! ;P) I could really appreciate the creativity that went into crafting this story, the explanations for what happened and why the diary went missing, etc.
"It's a case worthy of Sherlock Holmes himself," said Inspector Miller with a smile.
Arthur thought again of dueling. There would indeed be a fight this day. But not with this foolish inspector.
"No," began Arthur. "It is not a case worthy of Sherlock bloody Holmes. It is a case worthy of his creator."
And with that, he marched out, swinging the door shut and leaving Inspector Miller alone to contemplate what mayhem he'd just wrought.

As I just mentioned earlier, I enjoy reading about authors, how they lived and worked. I like the appeal of reading imagined stories about real people who lived such a long time ago. Reading about authors in a fictionalized novel makes them feel more real to me, oddly enough. You can hear various facts about someone like Conan Doyle but when you read a scene where he's chatting with Bram Stoker, I find it gives me a kind of magical feeling. The writing brings the old dead author (not to be to blunt about it :P) to life, makes him feel like a real person. I like that a lot.

Essentially, I enjoyed both the subject matter and the prose of this novel. I liked the connections to Sherlock Holmes and I liked that it focused on the author and not quite as much on the character. I would recommend this book if you have any interest in Sherlock Holmes, even if it is just a 'casual' interest as mine is currently. Interestingly, a lot of the story finds its roots in fact, especially the plot for the modern day story. There's a considerate afterword by the author that explains the fact from the fiction. Even if it was purely fiction, I would still recommend The Sherlockian. =)

Friday, January 21, 2011

blergh

This has not been a good week for me. I have been highly unproductive, especially in those periods where I have eight free hours and I just sit around and do nothing. I don't like it. I wrote one paragraph, didn't do any school work and I started three books but I dropped two and I haven't been in the mood for the third. I picked up The Sherlockian at the library this morning and was hoping to read all of it today but I've only read the first page. I will do my best to finish it tomorrow and post a review! But hey. At least there are more fonts to play with.

Sunday, January 16, 2011

Invisible

Haven't written anything since early December. I've been too busy reading? >.< Looked to Sunday Scribblings prompt just to help me get something out. I've put on some Infected Mushroom and I'm ready to pump out some sort of sci-fi thing. Here goes.
_____

My little sister is invisible. I didn't know of her existence until she was four. When I had ran away from home two years ago, she had followed me. My parents don't and never did give a damn about either of us, especially not my sister since she's an AV, which is why she was able to follow me into the wild even though she was just two years old. AVs develop body skills wickedly fast, in case you didn't know. I've heard they also have rapid physical growth but I wouldn't know, my sister is invisible and this story is crap. Trying again.

My little sister is invisible. It wasn't so bad at first. Her being invisible made it easier when we had to run away. My parents don't and never did give a damn about either of us, especially not my sister since she's an AV. They never reported us missing. My sister's invisibility made it a lot easier for me to move around without looking suspicious, carrying a toddler with me and all. It was the first time her being an AV actually helped our situation. She can move faster than I can, did you know, and she never tires. Pretty convenient. I wonder what she looks like sometimes, when I can hear her breathing as she sleeps (she doesn't need to, to sleep that is, but she likes dreaming, she told me once) but I can't see the rise and fall of her chest. I don't know if she's the size of an average toddler or bigger than me. You'd think I could've figured that out by now but I do my best not to pay attention to those tiny details. I don't want to know. When she talks and I hear her voice, layered with those strange echos and little whirs and clunks she has, being a prototype AV, all I picture in my head is a white blur. My little sister is four years old and I don't know her at all. I ran away to be safe but I didn't give a damn about her either back then. She followed me. She knew with me gone she wouldn't be safe any more. No more witnesses, me being the witness to my parents actions. Scared the shit out of me when she finally alerted me to her presence. Two years! Two whole freakin years that kid followed me around! Aw, but what the hell did I care. Her invisibility and all wasn't a shock to me, the shock was that she had been with me for two years. [Oops, now I've blended my two half-started stories. oh well XD] All those times I thought nobody was watching...I started to take care of my appearance after that. I know she's an AV, but I am the elder sibling and she is my baby sister and I gotta set an example. Even if she is an invisible AV. She's pretty easy to take care. She don't need much and I know how to get back. She's going to reach max potential in a year though. She told me that once and I remembered, even though we pretend like it ain't anywhere close to that time yet. I don't know what I'm going to do then. What we're gonna do. Hell's gonna break loose and there won't be anyone around to help me. Save me. Save her. Should be one heck of a year. 
____

Is the narrator a girl or a boy? I wonder...The narration style didn't go quite where I was hoping; I wanted more of an uneducated/illiterate lilt. Ah well. That's my flash fiction for ya. Another story that could be developed one day, but probably won't. Boohoo.

Extra Books - January 9 to 16

  • Blindness by Jose Saramago
    • Published: October 1997 (English)
    • Genre: Realism
    • Why I picked it up: Current favourite author
    • Rating: 4 stars
    • Challenges: Global | 100+
    • My Thoughts: 
      • Still in love with Saramago's writing style. 'Nuff said about that.
      • What sets this novel apart from the previous two I read by this author is that it is much darker and sinister. I was about 40 pages in when I started to realize that. The rules given kind of worried me a bit and that was when I realized this wasn't going to be a very happy book. Which is okay. I really liked it. I'm interested in what the sequel is about...
  • The Wisdom of Alexander the Great by Lance Kurke
    • Published: September 2004
    • Genre: Non-fiction
    • Why I picked it up: Needed to read it for school :/
    • Challenges: 100+
    • My Thoughts:
      • Meh. Not bad. I had to read it for my government business relations class...I didn't care about the business parts (harhar), but the stories about Alexander were very intriguing. I'm going to look through the bibliography to find a couple more books to read about him.

Saturday, January 15, 2011

Ruth Reichl - Garlic and Sapphires


Author: Ruth Reichl
Title: Garlic and Sapphires
Published: April 2005
Publisher: Penguin
Length: 328 pages
Genre: Food memoir
Why I picked it up: Recommended by Margot, host of the second challenge linked below
Rating: 3.5 stars
Challenges: 100+ | Foodie's 
Buy: Barnes and Noble | Chapters | Check your local bookstore!

This was just the sort of book I was looking to read after finishing Saramago's Blindness. I needed something fun and light; Garlic and Sapphires was just what I was looking for. The book is about Ruth Reichl's adventures, you could say, as the restaurant critic for the New York Times in the nineties. I enjoy reading any type of story about New York and this book was no exception. I really liked hearing about the different food cultures of the city, from the fancy restaurants to the local bakeries, butchers, etc.

Occasionally I read books about food (I'm hoping this challenge will get me reading some of the ones I should have read awhile ago!) but usually they're books about the behind the scenes of food, ex. books about GMOs. I've never read about restaurants at all before, especially not reviews like those found in the Times so this book was very refreshing for me. I haven't tried any of the recipes in the book (there are 17) but some of the sound very interesting and I will be photocopying them before I return the book to the library.

I wasn't at all expecting the story of Carol. Her story added another more emotional level to the book that was welcome (for me, at least!) in such a humorous book that didn't seem to have a lot to tie it down. It felt a little strange/awkward/unnatural/something to me the way Reichl inhabited her characters so fully, but I've never had to pretend to be someone else in public so I can't really comment on that. That's all I have to say for this one...it was nice to be able to quickly read through an enjoyable book, just for fun, with no heavy thinking attached :)

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

She & Him - Volume One

  
Artist: She & Him
Album: Volume One
Year: 2008
Length: 36 minutes, 27 seconds
Genre: Indie pop
Why I picked it up: Girl crush on Zooey Deschanel
Favourite tracks: Why Do You Let Me Stay Here?, Black Hole
Random lyric: I don't want you, but I need you/ Don't wanna kiss you, but I need to/ Oh, you do me wrong now/ My love is strong now
Purchase: Amazon | iTunes | Check your local music store!

How can you not love Zooey Deschanel? I'd say she's a role model of mine (I wish I could be as cute as her :P). After hearing her sing in a few different films, I was excited to find out that she was part of musical duo but it was only last week that I got around to downloading She & Him's first album (that sounds grammatically awkward but oh well...). I am happy to say it doesn't disappoint.



I love Zooey's voice. It's sweet and simple and lovely and a few other adjectives that I can't really think of right now. I like how M. Ward produces the songs, they are perfectly suited to the kind of music I always imagined Zooey would sing well. The music is simple and fun and summery and enjoyable and definitely reminiscent of days gone by. I like to sing the songs under my breath while I'm working at my computer. There isn't a lot to say. Some might dismiss this music as blah blah fluffy, but this isn't music meant to be earth-shattering or ground-breaking. This is simple, light-hearted music that makes for nice listening and nothing more. I'm enjoying listening to it in my quieter moments and I'm looking forward to listening to it on the swings at the beach in the summer =)

Sunday, January 9, 2011

Extra Books - January 1 to 8

  • Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone by J.K. Rowling
    • Published: 1997
    • Genre: Magical fantasy
    • Why I picked it up: Figured it was time to give the series another shot
    • Rating: 3.5 stars
    • Challenges: 100+ | Harry Potter 2011
    • My Thoughts: 
      • When I first started reading Harry Potter, there were four books out. I read each of them once (although I might have read the third one a few times...I actually liked that one) and then the day after each consecutive book was released, I would borrow it from my best friend, read it once and then returned it. This was a trend I had to stay on top of, even if I wasn't much of a fan, because it involved books in a way my generation had never seen before. I always knew the books were good, they just weren't my favourite kind of story.  Now that I'm older, I've decided to give the series another shot because I think I can appreciate it better.
      •  It's hard to give any sort of objective review of Harry Potter...everyone knows the story so well and there's the movies and all the different books; it's hard to isolate just the first one. What I noticed was that it was so small! Haha. I felt like nothing happened, but I suppose that's because I know what comes in the next five six seven books. That being said, I thought the book was kind of cute and I can see why it appealed so greatly to hoards of ten and eleven year olds. I am looking forward to when the story starts to bulk up, though.
  • Wild by Jay Griffiths
    • Published: 2006
    • Genre: 'Part travelogue, part manifesto for wildness'
    • Why I picked it up: Library browsing, looked good
    • Rating: 5 stars
    • Challenges: 100+
    • My Thoughts:
      • I first started this book in February, but I only read the first chapter (the best, IMHO.) Click here to read my thoughts on that. (I did start from the beginning again when I read it this year, just to clarify :P)
      • [See the link above for my thoughts on the prose].
      • The author uses a lot of sex metaphors...not all the time, but they do crop up often enough. I'm probably still too 'immature' to appreciate them properly :/
      • Griffiths isn't afraid of writing about the more brutal aspects, either.
      • The final two 'element' chapters, Fire and Air, seemed to kind of wander all over the place and weren't very similar to the previous chapters. They were more about the trials of Aboriginal peoples. The final chapter, Wild Mind, however, is where the book really returns to its strong points, about nature, about wild and how we as humans, with such real emotions and heart need it so desperately. Everything I loved about Wild was exemplified in the final chapter and it was a great way to finish off the book.
      • It makes me so sad to hear about the horrors inflicted upon Aboriginal peoples, especially those of the Inuit. While I definitely support bringing awareness to the terrible situations people found and find themselves in, I felt like this book was more about human rights of sorts than about the wilderness/wild at times. Not a bad thing, I fully appreciate what the author's getting at...it just wasn't I really wanted to read at times (ie. Book could have used more wild, less people. or...something. It sounds bad when I put it that way >.<). 
      • It's hard to pin this book down into one category...it was kind of all over the place. Most people will like one aspects of it, but not the rest. There were a few things I didn't really like, but I was able to overlook them in favour for the better parts of the book.
  • 1984 by George Orwell
    • Published: 1949
    • Genre: Dystopian scifi
    • Why I picked it up: Should have read it years ago
    • Rating: 5 stars
    • Challenges: 100+ | 2011 TBR Pile
    • My Thoughts: 
      • Excellent. I don't why I didn't read this ages ago...well, I do know why, it's because when everyone read it in grade ten I felt like I should have already had read it by then and I didn't want to be seen walking around with a copy and I knew the basic plot and about Newspeak and just never really saw the point in actually reading it. I got the idea, that was enough at the time.  I expected it to be some stuffy English lit type book, hard and dry to get through, even if the story was interesting. Well, obviously when  I finally started the book I found the actual writing to be very unexpected and far more 'modern' than I was anticipating. I had always thought of the whole plot as a short story, I never expected the actual story and the characters (I especially wasn't thinking of a Julia-type character). Needless to say I was pleasantly surprised =)
      • Nearing the end of the book, I was completely absorbed. I actually twitched a little when they were caught, when a third voice speaks after Julia and Winston. O'Brien actually terrified me, or rather the words he spoke did, I suppose. I've never experienced a book that really frightened me in whatever way. 
      • Excerpt that gave me chills and really made me think:
      • Anything could be true. The so called Laws of Nature were nonsense. The law of gravity was nonsense. 'If I wished,' O'Brien had said, 'I could float off this floor like a soap bubble.' Winston worked it out. 'If he thinks he floats off the floor, and I simultaneously think I see him do it, then the thing happens.' Suddenly, like a lump of submerged wreckage breaking the surface of water, the thought burst into his mind: 'It doesn't really happen. We imagine it. it is hallucination.' He pushed the thought under instantly. The fallacy was obvious. It presupposed that somewhere or other, outside oneself, there was a 'real' world where 'real' things happened. But how could there be such a world? What knowledge have we of anything, save through our own minds? All happenings are in the mind. Whatever happens in all minds, truly happens.
      • This is definitely a book that I need to buy and reread and mull over...lots to think about here.
      • Sidenote: When I was writing notes on my iPod, I was reading the part where they're trying to convince Winston 2+2=5 and I wrote Nineteen Eighty-five instead of Eighty-four. Spooky o.o

The Carving, Part Eight

I've noticed that the titling of these posts has been getting kinda out of hand, but they should be back on track now. Everything from here on out will be nine, ten, eleven, etc. To find all the posts linked in proper reading order, not publication order, click here. This is the final bit from NaNo.
_____

“Yes, yes, that’s it!” shouted the girl, “Marie is my name! I am Marie! Marie...” She continued to murmur her name under her breath, testing it out, making it her own. The stranger with no name smiled cheerfully [fix that adverb >.<]. The panther did not know how to react. Only time would tell what role this new revelation would play in the girl’s destiny [definitely fix this sentence so it does not sound so pretentious or whatever >.<]. [Some sort of transition thing here or casual banter or the like]

“You wear a crown, are you a prince like Damien?” the girl asked. The panther could not help but smile. An astute observation. Indeed, are you a prince, stranger with no name?

“My, my, full of questions, aren’t we?” The girl did not notice, but the smile on the man’s face had begun to look fixed. The panther, however, took notice. “I am sorry to inform you that I am no prince.” The stranger with no name paused, and at first it seemed like he was going to elaborate on his statement, but he did not.

 “Oh,” Marie said, no emotion to be captured in that single syllable. The panther yawned and shut his eyes. This encounter was no longer able to hold his attention. “Just a traveller?”

“Yes, a traveller,” the stranger with no name agreed. They ate for a little while longer in silence. When the food was gone, the stranger with no name packed away his belongings and stood up.

“It was nice meeting you, Marie, panther. I am glad I was of assistance in helping you recall some memories,” the stranger with no name said casually, as if he restored memories on a regular basis.

Marie leapt to her feet.

“Thank-you very much! Will you be on your way now?” she asked eagerly. She seemed to have a thirst for information now that she had regained some of her memory.

“Yes, I have to start moving again.” As he spoke the stranger with no name stared down at the panther. The panther stared back, his expression blank (and how does one read the expression of a panther, anyhow?). It was then that the panther realized that the stranger with no name knew the panther was far more than he seemed, and that the stranger with no name knew the panther knew that he, the stranger with no name, was far more than what he seemed as well [this sentence is a little confusing, please fix to make the idea clearer >.<]. The stranger with no name reached down and stroked the panther’s fur. The panther resisted the urge to snap off the stranger with no name’s fingers and instead settled on a menacing growl. The stranger gave no noticeable reaction to the warning but he did take his hand away from the panther’s head.

“You take care of this cat of yours, alright?” the stranger with no name said seriously to the girl.

“Oh, I will!” the girl replied eagerly.

The panther rolled his eyes but bit his tongue [cat got his own tongue, haha >.<].

“Good luck on your quest. I am off now,” and with that the stranger with no name turned back towards the stream and crossed it, heading in the same direction he had come from.

“Wait...” the girl whispered just moments after the stranger with no name started to walk away,” Wait!” she cried out, reaching her hand after him as though she could catch him in her fingers. The stranger with no name stopped, but he did not turn around. “Will I see you again?” The panther’s nose twitched. Did the girl really have to make further connections to the stranger without no name [terrible sentence, fix to convey the idea better >.<].

The stranger with no name still did not turn around. He raised his right hand and gaze a half wave, and then continued walking away from the girl and the panther. They watched the man intently until he seemed to become one with the tall grasses of the meadow. The girl stamped her foot once he had disappeared.

“That isn’t fair, why didn’t he answer me?” she pouted.

“Come now, stop your whining,” the panther snapped at her. He wanted to make it clear that he would not tolerate any sort of sulking. In a slightly kinder tone, he continued, “I would be very surprised if we do not see the stranger without a name. Do not fret. He still has a role to play in this story [prob remove this sentences, har har >.<].”

The girl gazed down at her panther and he could see the clear longing in her eyes. The stranger with no name was the only other human she had encountered in her short life. Damien did not count, he was only a restored memory for her, little more than a shadowy object illuminated by rays of light [what a crappy metaphor, please think of a better one >.>].

“Well, do not we also have a job to do?” The panther resumed his brusque tone. “We should get a move on if you want to make any progress with your quest.” The girl looked away from the panther back to the meadow where the stranger with no name had disappeared into. She nodded slowly.

“Which way shall we go?” the panther prompted.

“Umm...” She gazed across the land, sweeping the landscape. Her eyes widened ever so slightly as she looked. It seemed to the panther that she was just realizing how the world had changed and become more revitalized [hrrm, not so elegant that sentence >.<]. Then she turned back to the panther, her eyes not wide any more with wonder, but with panic. The panther returned her gaze with a [what’s that term? Not cold...] look. She was a difficult one, always expecting him to take the lead. Why could not she get it through her thick skull that he – no, this is not the direction I want this paragraph to take. Scrap that last sentence.

“Well, do not look at me like that! I have told you once, I have told you a hundred times. I am not the leader here. You are my master, whether we like this arrangement or not is not important, but you need to take charge. I cannot make your choices for you,” the panther said, his voice droning on. What could he do to make it get through her thick skull that she had to do things on her own? [tidy that up a bit, then it’ll be good, thanks].

“Right...” she said. The word was filled with doubt.

“I want to go see Damien,” the girl said suddenly. [merge with previous line]

“Well!” the panther said. It was the closest his reaction could ever get showing surprise [fix up the wording there, thanks >.>]. Oh noes D: “Well, we can do that. Any particular reason as to why?”

“I have some questions I want to ask him,” the girl said.

“Well, there is a surprise...” the panther muttered dryly. [this exchange is not up to par >.<] “You do realize we are three months away from him?”

“Yes,” the girl replied stubbornly, “I want to go.”

The panther could not even protest her choice, because had he not just pressed her into making a decision and had she not just done what he had pressed her to?

“Well, let us go, then,” and the panther began to walk briskily away from the meadow. The girl ran to catch up after him.

“It will not be all that bad, Panther,” the girl said cheerfully, walking on tiptoe beside the great cat. “We can still work on our mission while we travel.”

“Well, your mission, I believe you mean. You forget our positions far too often. I am one of those objects you seek on your mission. You are the master and leader here. I do” - and here the panther sighed – “what you say.”

The girl dropped down from her toes and walked flat on her bare feet. “Why do you say that all the time? I want you to be my equal. You can help me on this mission!”

Hmm, he had suspected he had said too much. Now it turned out that indeed he had. [this is worded inappropriately. Please rewrite >.>]

“Never mind,” the panther muttered as he stared at his paws, somewhat embarrassed that the girl had already begun to question his motives. He cleared his throat. “Well, remember, you were assigned this task. You must complete it.” He wondered if he was still saying too much. Well, whatever. He was too old for this. He padded along, his eyes still glued to the ground, for a few minutes before he realized the girl was no longer beside him. He turned around. She was knelt about a fifty yards [oh good, no, not the numerical measurements! >.<] behind him, her hands down near the ground and obscured by the grass. She picked something up, what, the panther could not see and began carefully to approach the panther. [dun like this paragraph, please fix kthxbai >.>]

“Well, what is it?” the panther said, the usual impatient tone creeping back into his voice. The girl halted about ten yards away from the panther [oh good, no, not again with the numerical measurements!! >.<].

“Promise you won’t eat him?” the girl called out. The panther raised an eye brow.

“Well, I cannot guarantee anything...” The girl’s eyes widened in horror. “Well, of course I will not eat him, what a stupid question! Why would I want to eat something you have picked up off the ground?” the panther snorted.

The girl did not seem very satisfied with the panther’s response, but she approached him anyhow.

“Shhh, I think he is sleeping...” she whispered now, even though she had no problem yelling at the panther moments before. The girl knelt down on her knees and showed the panther what she had picked up.

Cupped in her hands was a tiny mouse, small enough to fit comfortable in the palm of the girl’s hand. The mouse was curled up and indeed, it did appear to be asleep. The creature’s fold was a deep yellow hue, almost precisely the same colour as the grasses that filled the meadow. The only reason the girl could have noticed the mouse, the panther decided, was because of the wings sprouting out of its back. The wings were paper thin and resembled [what kind of wings did they resemble?]. The wings were open and crumpled. This was no ordinary field mouse. The creature was clearly one of the things that Damien wanted retrieved.

“Well, good for you, you have found one of Damien’s little treasures,” the panther said, his voice abnormally full of approval.

“Do you think it talks?” the girl asked, her voice still little more than a hushed whisper.

“Well, I am not too sure about that...” the panther admitted, speaking the truth. He was not certain as to what form Damien’s ‘little treasures’ would take when found. [hrrm, this idea needs some clarification and perhaps some rewording probably >.<]. Jumping tracks.

“I am not an it, I should have you know. I quite resent the use of a pronoun intended for inanimate objects being used to describe myself!” came a small but proud voice from the girl’s palm. The mouse had woken up and was now standing on his (he is a he as far as we can tell from his voice [work this in better please >.<]) hind legs. He ruffled his wings and they settled into one another, folding neatly on his back. The girl and the panther stared at the little mouse, both more than a little surprised to hear such a strong voice come from such a tiny animal [tiny and little are now being far over used >.<].

"I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you,” the girl said quickly, adding, “I thought you were asleep.”

The mouse patted his fur down, taking care to make sure all the hairs were pointed in the same direction [make more elegant].

“Just because you believe the subject of your gossip to be asleep, does not mean that you should speak down to him when he is still within earshot [clarify please],” the mouse punctuated his statement with a sharp nod. “But that is not the important issue at the moment. The important issue is, who are you to have disturbed my hibernation?” The mouse looked up expectantly at Marie.

The girl looked around at the blooming spring setting appearing around her and then looked back at the mouse.

“Winter is over, little mouse,” she said gently, not wanting to offend the small creature further, “Spring has started! Time for you to wake up!” [what has the panther been doing? Perhaps clarify in a small statement or two. Not too much, this scene is not about the panther].

“That is not your decision to make!” The mouse squeaked out the word ‘your’ and it sounded so out of place with the rest of his [seriously spoken words] that the girl had to stifle a laugh. “Now tell me, who are you and what business have you with me?” The girl chewed on her lip for a moment to keep from laughing, then did her best to explain the scenario to the mouse in a serious manner [scenario then serious, not good, change ‘scenario’].

“My name is Marie. I am presumably [presumably vs. supposedly vs. something else?] the goddess of the world. I have been called to this world to assist Prince Damien of Castle Orlegro in collecting his lost treasures. I believe you, little mouse, to be one of them.”

“Little mouse!” he exclaimed with a stamp of his foot. The girl barely felt him move, he weighed so little. “Enough of this little mouse business, you will address me as Reepicheep [whooo for Narnian mice, will rename later]!” The girl had to bite her lip again to keep from smiling. Perhaps this Reepicheep would not have been so amusing if he had not been so small. “Wait a moment...pardon me, but did you say Damien sent you?” The mouse’s tone was suddenly full of courteousness [what kind of adjective is that, I have no idea, change it >.<].

“Yes, I am working for him,” the girl clarified. The mouse’s tiny mouth fell open but he quickly shut it again.

“Forgive me, m’lady, I had no idea!” The mouse bent over in a deep bow, his head nearly touching his feet. When he straightened, the expression on his face was much more relaxed than it had been previously. “I thank-you, then, for awakening me from my slumber. I am more than happy to accompany you on your journey.”

Marie’s face broke into a smile and she turned to the panther so suddenly that the mouse fell over in her palm. “

See that, Panther, that wasn’t so hard!” she proclaimed. [The panther was not so enthusiastic].

“Well, indeed. How do you propose you will take care of this...Reepicheep?” the panther did not like the mouse’s name at all. The panther thought it [include appropriate adjective once real name is found]. [The traveller left her a bag! Jumping tracks.]

The girl placed the mouse on the ground and swung the bag she was carrying off her pack.

“I don’t suppose...you’d want to travel in here?” she asked, her voice full of uncertainty. The bag was large and bulky and did not have any pockets.

“I am afraid I would not. I would not last very long in there,” the mouse replied, his voice full of regret [take these out. Except maybe keep this one XP].

“Hmm...well, it is no longer winter. You won’t be cold just sitting on my shoulder, would you? I’ll be very careful,” the girl said seriously, “I don’t want to lose you any more than you want to fall!”
_____



Friday, January 7, 2011

Will Ferguson - Beyond Belfast


Author: Will Ferguson
Title: Beyond Belfast
Published: October 2009
Publisher: Viking Canada
Length: 390 pages
Genre: Travelogue
Target age: Adult
Why I picked it up: Written by an author I enjoy
Rating: 4 stars
Challenges: 100+ 
Buy: Chapters | Check your local bookstore!

Will Ferguson is a Canadian author known for his books about his travels and about Canadians. I've enjoyed him since we first studied Why I Hate Canadians in grade 11 history. My favourite book by Ferguson is Hitching Rides With Buddha. The only other book I've read by him, aside from this one, is How to Be Canadian. Still have to read Beauty Tips from Moose Jaw and I'm sure I'll get around to his fiction one day...Anyhow. Beyond Belfast, the story of his ambitious undertaking to walk the Ulster Way (a 560 mile path around Northern Ireland) will be released in soft-cover just before my birthday and I will definitely be putting it on my wishlist.

The aspect of Ferguson's books I love most is the way he can blend humour and serious reflection (that's the best way I can think of to describe it...). There were plenty of sentences that made me grin while I was reading and there were plenty of sentences that made me feel rather sad and melancholic. (There's a passage in Hitching Rides with Buddha that actually makes me tear up but that never happened in this book). One reviewer had it right: 'Like Bryson, Ferguson is often as his best (and laugh-out-loud funniest) when most annoyed.', such as when he realizes he's the creepy old man in the youth hostel or when he gets trapped in a church during pilgrim ceremonies. To give you a taste of his style, two humorous quotes and one of those sad melancholic passages:
 Ha! You didn't get me this time, you fokkers! The driver was eyeing me in his mirror. I had said that last part out loud. "The rain," I said by way of explanation.  "It's been trying to get me."
It was bloody friggin' marvellous, so it was. (A view like that brings out the poet in me).
I thought about pensioners under siege on Park Road, about children burning, about off-duty police officers dragged from pubs and kicked to death, about the watery cries for "Revenge!" As I walked toward the shopping plazas in the city centre, I saw a McDonald's at one end, its golden arches catching the light- and I felt a sudden surge of relief. I walked toward the arches, rested my forehead on the cool condensation of its windows, the glass like ice on a fever. It was so comforting, the polished surface, the lack of memory, the lack of any larger context.
I like the perspective of an outsider looking in on another country's struggles, providing a mostly unbiased and balanced perspective and observations on things a native would take for granted. I particularly liked how he distinguished dialects by how they pronounced fokker, fekker, fooker.
Of Ulster's many verbal tics, the ones I found most charming were "aye" and "wee"...Likewise with the indiscriminate use of "wee". I'm not sure what "wee" means, but I do know it doesn't mean "small." That's what it seems to mean; certainly the room they found for me in the back was a bit "wee", but when I told her I was hiking the Ulster Way, all five hundred and sixty damn miles of it, she said, "A good wee walk then." (No doubt, in Ulster, King Kong would be referred to as "a great wee monkey")
 He provides a balanced view of the Protestant and Catholics sides and because neither side is prejudiced towards him, he can interact with both. The fact that Ferguson is Canadian is a bonus. I can easily understand a Canadian perspective and appreciate the little jokes he makes about being Canadian.  

Being Canadian in Europe is a lot like being Welsh in North America: no one really cares. It's not that they hold it against you. If anything, they have a vaguely positive image, a sort of benign lack of interest, as it were. "Canadian? That's terrific. "Welsh, you say? Good for you."

Another reason I enjoyed this book is because it's about a subject I know (knew?) next to nothing about. Northern Ireland has always been this fuzzy patch of knowledge in my mind, where I knew it was dangerous and I think it was dangerous because some Christians were fighting. But that's all I knew. Starting the book was tricky for me because I had trouble keeping the two 'sides' straight, for example, I couldn't remember if the UVF was for Catholics or Protestants and which side was unionist or loyalist, etc. Fortunately, Ferguson provides a handy little 'binary code' of different terms and aspects starting on page 26. He does caution that obviously not all aspects of the two sides can be reduced to this pairing code, but it did help me keep up with the various terms used throughout the book. I very much enjoyed the segments on the history of Ulster. They helped give Ferguson's tale and the current conflicts greater context. I still had trouble remembering names of places. With so much travelling in such a short period of time, bouncing around through all these tiny little villages, I guess that's to be expected. It didn't really detract from my reading, though.

As if all that wasn't enough for a good read, there's also a subplot of sorts that sees Ferguson seeking out some lost family history. This book is packed full of all sorts of good things and often reads as though Ferguson is sharing his story with you over a beer. If you've got any interest in Northern Ireland, humour or travel, I would definitely recommend this book.

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

Mahito Yakoto - Super Mario Galaxy Soundtrack

Fuuuu, I wrote a nice little post about this and then I ctrl+a, accidentally hit the spacebar and it decided to autosave -.- There is nothing I hate more in the world that rewriting something. So. Boohoo. Maybe I'll try again tomorrow >.<

Sunday, January 2, 2011

The Carving, Part Six

Previously

This is a short passage I wrote after NaNo. I just wanted to get this connecting piece out of the way, I wrote it to get it done. It was a little painful. The whole thing badly needs to be rewritten. But I resist! It's done with and I will deal with it when I am done the rest of the story.
_____

His hair was dark but not as black as hers. It was short enough to leave his ears exposed. He was not tall. His eyes were an unremarkable brown. Nothing about him said ‘regal’, least of all the muddy and patched black clothes he wore. A dagger was strapped to his hip. He grinned at the girl, revealing white teeth that seemed too clean for him. He halted at her bedside and knelt beside it so they were at eye level. He looked somewhat menacing but she felt completely at peace with him by her side, as though he were an old friend.

“And how is my lovely lady?” She giggled as he kissed her hand. She tried to stifle her laughter by biting her lip as he kissed her hand. GAHH, pulls her hand away

“Quite alright, thank-you.”

“The tea helped, then?”

“Yes...” She frowned. There was something she could not remember. It was fine a moment ago but now it was nagging her.

“Something the matter?” Damien asked, his voice appropriately full of concern.

“I cannot...I can’t...” Something was tripping up her tongue, tying it in knots. [She told herself it was simply because] she did not want to bother the man. She forced some words past her tongue. “Who, who are you?”

The question hurt her head (perhaps she had drank too much tea) and it was not the one she wanted to ask but it was the best she could do.

“I am a very lucky man!” He was grinning again. “I have been praying for help, something I should do more often, clearly, and then I found you! Lucky indeed. My name is Damien, as you have heard, Prince Damien of Orlegro, if you prefer, and I am the owner of this magnificent castle.”

“What...were you praying for?” Questions, all she could think of were more questions, but only little ones that were not what she really wanted to know, whatever that was. She felt like something was tugging at the back of her mind, as thought there was a question there that desperately wanted to be asked but she could not wrap her thoughts around it.

“Ah, now that is the question, isn’t it?” The prince leaned forward, propping his elbows up on his knees and clasping his hands between his legs. “I was praying for someone to help me find some things I lost [right, so clearly this will be clarified and tidied up >.<]. If I had known they were going to send me the goddess of the world...well, I would’ve prepared a little better!”

He laughed and leaned back in his chair. The girl forced herself to blink. Why were her eyes so dry?

“I don’t understand...I’m sorry,” she said, sounding rather pathetic. Her eyes were sore. Why was she talking to this man?

“Not at all, I’m sure the transition from [ethereal] to physical must have been a bit hard on you. If I may...you are the goddess of the world, but, I believe, in human form. I found you on the beach last night after I had prayed for help. You are, quite literally, the answer to my prayer.”

“Oh, I...see.” That made a little more sense. [okay, so basically the ‘tea’ has wiped her memory and made her accept whatever he tells her. This whole scene will be fixed up for continuity and such later XP]. “Of- of course.” The prince seemed quite pleased at her gradual acceptance of what he was telling her. [Let’s get this over with now >.<]

“Good, I’m glad you understand now! Now, I’ve lost quite a few things, unfortunately. Too many for me to list. But you, being you of course-” he said this with a flighty laugh, “-you will know them when you see them. Best to get you out there right away."

“I suppose I am...” She was not sure why she said that. She didn’t feel like the words came from her mouth. She felt like she was on the edge of falling asleep. She couldn’t comprehend what was happening.

“Marvellous!” the prince clasped her hand and pulled her to her feet with little effort. She forced herself to keep blinking as he led her through a maze of halls and doors. By the time he brought her outside, she could not believe she hadn’t fallen asleep. Damien waved his hand and a set of doors forty feet high [gaahg >.<] swung open. Cool air rushed into the castle as Damien pushed the girl through the doors. She stumbled without his guidance and fell to the ground. Sand stuck to her lips.

"Good luck! And thank-you ever so much for your assistance.” Damien retreated back into the castle. The doors slammed shut and the girl promptly fell asleep. When she woke up, she found herself staring into the yellow eyes of what appeared to be a panther. She did not move but the cat quickly stepped back. They held each other’s gaze. At last the panther spoke.

“Can you understand me? Are you conscious?” he asked. His voice carried no hint of emotion. The girl slowly sat up. Her head was spinning and she did not answer until it stopped.

“I can understand you. I am conscious.” The pair were sitting in the spot the same spot Damien had left the girl. They were at the end of a sand bar that stretched 200 feet [nooo] out from a beach. Hours earlier a magnificent castle lay at the end of the sandbar. Now, the sandbar just dissolved into ocean.

“Well, what are you doing out here?” The panther could not keep a hint of suspicion out of his voice, but the girl did not notice.

“I cannot remember.” She sat up straight, crossed her legs and continued to stare at the panther expectantly.

“Right...Do you know anything?” The panther was not being rude. It was a serious question. “I know that I have a mission. I must find things.” The panther was surprised that he managed to keep his expression from revealing his true thoughts about what the girl had just revealed to him [what kind of sentence is this? -.-]. He understood who this girl was now. “Well, do you know what sort of things?” he asked, allowing his voice to adopt a casual tone.

“No.” The girl’s answer was short and clipped. She paused, then added, “I think you might be one.” The panther nodded.

“Well, that is correct. I am,” he confirmed, choosing his words his carefully. He would have to be exceptionally cautious with what he said to the girl. “What are you going to do now?” The girl rose to her feet and looked towards the beach. She pointed to the forest that lay just beyond the sand.

“I am going to...go...” Before she could finish her statement she collapsed to the ground. The panther sighed and approached her, placing his ear near her mouth. Still breathing, but just barely. She had not been ready to be awakened. He put her on his back [I’ll figure the logistics out later okay?] and carried her to the forest, where a cave he inhabited sometimes was hidden. She awoke on and off for the following day, but never enough to be fully coherent. The panther was patient. He could wait until Damien’s side-effects wore off.
_____

And from here it’ll blend to winter two days after. Click here to read the next part, story-continuity wise.