1.12.2010

The Twilight Experiment--Twilight, Chapters 1-3

So, I've made it through three chapters; which is actually a little more impressive than it sounds at face value seeing as how that's 67 pages. It was an...interesting experience.

As you probably know, the book is narrated by Bella Swan, so I shall give you what I know of her thus far:

Bella Swan is a something-teen-year-old, who has "ivory" or "almost translucent" skin (Side note: Stephenie Meyer isn't the only author I've seen do this, but it continually bothers me to see any form of the adjective "translucent" used to describe the skin of a human character. When was the last time you saw a living, breathing person who was so pale you could say their skin was practically clear? This is the first physical impossibility of Bella Swan), and does not have red hair or blue eyes, but rather dark hair (brown or black is yet to be determined--perhaps chapter four will tell?) and as-of-yet undiscovered colored eyes. She is five-foot-four and "slender" without being athletic or athletically-inclined in the least--the second physical impossibility of Bella Swan; I know of no one who is as sedentary as Bella Swan is (which she is--she's a reader, not a player) who is also "slender" without the added bonus of being not-short. This is not to say that my shorter friends/acquaintances are fat, merely that "slender" is a very specific adjective that I would not be able to apply to that type of person. Bella Swan must have a truly enviable metabolism.

Bella has nobly exiled herself to the little town of Forks to live with her father so that her mother can travel around with her Minor League boyfriend. The standing explanation as to why that was necessary was that Bella wants to take care of her mother and make her happy; I'm holding out for a more detailed and plausible explanation, seeing as how if her school life as described thus far is anything to go by, she'd probably get a better education on the road with her mother and step...boyfriend than at Forks Highschool, her mother seems perfectly happy to be with her daughter and therefor probably wouldn't mind her daughter travelling with them, and Bella would really rather not be in Forks/with her father at all.

As far as I can tell Bella dislikes the cold, rain, snow (snipe), wet, ice, fog, clouds and cloudy days, idle chit chat, sports and most physical activity, math, being the topic of conversation, and Forks. She likes reading, sunlight (presumably, since it's the only weather they haven't had as of yet in Forks and the only weather she hasn't complained about), the truck her dad got her, and Edward Cullen. This last one is particularly random because she has had all of two conversations with one Edward Cullen, and one of them was an argument that left her so angry she literally says she couldn't move for a few minutes. By the second chapter she's become completely obsessed with this boy--he consumes her thoughts during the school day when he doesn't return for a week after their first meeting--and it's all only because he's a beautiful kid. He doesn't speak a word to her until page 43 and by page 26 she's already focused her thoughts almost completely on the mysterious enigma that is Edward Cullen.

I do not like Bella Swan.

I'm actually surprised, since usually I'm very readily able to relate to main characters (especially if it's a first person narrative, as in Twilight). But thus far Bella is just a disgruntled, angsty teenager who seems determined to be unhappy with everything. She says "Ew." when it starts snowing. And you, dear reader, know how I feel about snow. It isn't even because she doesn't like driving in it--she just plain doesn't like it. She is unhappy when she first comes to Forks because she is afraid everything will treat her as an oddity and think she's a freak; but when people are perfectly nice to her and treat her like a normal person she calls them "overhelpful" and doesn't even make an effort to remember most of their names. Her classmates seem to be a nuisance to her; if her father, Charlie, doesn't leave her completely alone then he is an embarrassment and bothers her because she can tell he never got over her mother; and everything at school except for Trigonometry is stuff she already knows. And I simply cannot fathom the way she thinks at times.

For example, here's an excerpt detailing the first person in school who talks to her (skipping short sections of the narrative that are irrelevant to the point I'm making):

When the bell rang, a nasal buzzing sound, a gangly boy with skin problems and hair as black as an oil slick [Severus Snape?] leaned across the aisle to talk to me.


"You're Isabella Swan, aren't you?" He looked like the overly helpful, chess club type. [If he has a sweater vest back off Bella, I want some]

"Bella," I corrected. [...]

"Where's your next class?" he asked.


[...] "Um, Government, with Jefferson [teehee...oh Stephenie], in building six."


[...] "I'm headed toward building four, I could show you the way..." Definitely overhelpful [yeah seriously dude, backupoff. Give a girl room to use her tiny lady-brain]. "I'm Eric," he added.

So that was a pretty friendly, normal introduction. As are most of her other introductions to the students. The part that confused me was when she met Mike, another friendly boy--asks her her name, much like Eric and everyone else, introduces himself, much like Eric and everyone else, etc.:

[Mike asked,]"Do you need help finding your next class?"


"I'm headed to the gym, actually. I think I can find it."


"That's my next class, too." [...]

We walked to class together; he was a chatterer [myeah, a bit awkward, and not a word but okay]--he supplied most of the conversation, which made it easy for me. He'd lived in California till he was ten, so he knew how I felt about the sun [I think that's the clue that she likes the sun (aside from her general grumbles)]. It turned out he was in my English class also. He was the nicest person I'd met today.


...

I can't for the life of me figure out what was so different about dear Mike and that conversation that made him the "nicest" person you'd met that day, Bella.

I also can't help but notice that even though she has little time to pay attention to any of her classmates, she seems to have even less time for the girls. They're the ones who's names she can't remember. I'm going to give her the benefit of the doubt and think it's a coincidence.

So yeah, don't like Bella. The highlight of her stay thus far as been staring at the uberly attractive Cullens, specifically Edward.

Edward seems a nice enough guy so far. Aside from being a bit bi-polar, which I think is due partly to the fact that Bella's trying to "figure him out" and is therefor devoting more attention than is normal to his every minute action, expression, and mood. But (after initially acting like he had the trots when he was sitting next to her in their first biology class) he said hi to her, and drew her out about her mom and why she was at Forks, etc. So he doesn't really have a personality yet, but he's nice.

And despite what Miss Swan thinks about Forks, I think it sounds basically awesome. It's all forest and such (even Bella, between her complaining, says she must admit that it's beautiful), and the town itself is one of those small towns where everyone knows everyone and the police chief (Charlie, coincidentally) still wears a gun belt and boots, everybody seems really nice, especially the highschool kids. I mean really, how many places have nice highschool kids? Bella hasn't even crossed paths with a token catty blond yet. I think I'd really like living in Forks--come now, rain and fog are beautiful too. A little wet, but that's what umbrellas are for, right? And you get to wear wellies.

For the most part I'm reserving judgement on the writing until I at least get further into it--suffice it to say that there are some things irking me, but I'm seeing if they smooth out and/or leaving room for improvement. But I will highlight this one thing: someone needs to both take the thesaurus away from Stephanie Meyer and tell her that there are better thesauruses out there.

You see, Stephenie Meyer (hereafter to be referred to as Smeyer, cordially, for convenience's sake) wants to make it abundantly clear that the Cullens are attractive. She does this in two ways. The first is by using either neutral, or, more commonly, downright unflattering descriptions of every other highschooler Bella meets (see description of poor, overly helpful Eric Snape). The second is by using every single synonym for "attractive" she can find; except apparently that's not enough, because she uses the handful of adjectives she collected way more than she should. She goes on for about two pages describing how beautiful the Cullens are in every way when she first introduces them--okay, that's fine. When you're introducing character descriptions it's okay to get it all out there. Yes, Smeyer, I see, the Cullens are beautiful and attractive and graceful. Oooh-aaaah. The problem is that it doesn't stop.

  • Bronze-haired
  • Muscular
  • Fluid
  • Attractive (most commonly used, once to describe his voice)
  • Musical (describing his voice)
  • Like velvet (voice)
  • Absurdly handsome
  • Dazzling
  • Flawless (lips. Psh.)
  • Enchanting (laugh)
  • Beautiful
Those are only describing Edward. And only in one chapter. Also not even the whole chapter, as I got bored of paying attention to all the ways in which Edward is apparently the smokinest thang since turkey bacon. Any one of those adjectives was used at least twice, usually to describe two different features of that beautiful creature, Edward Cullen.

Well, dear reader, I'm only three chapters in. I'm optimistic that Bella might improve as a person (I've read plenty of stories/series where the main character starts out as a jerk and becomes a better person--Artemis Fowl, The Merlin Conspiracy...), and that Smeyer will finally rest assured that her readers know that the Cullens are the only attractive people in Forks. 

Back into the fray!

1.11.2010

The Start of Something New(ish)--There's a Monster Under My Bed

Or, more specifically, next to my bed.

Three, in fact.

Yes, you guessed it: I'm currently in possession of the first three novels in the Twilight Saga (saga, what a pretentious word for series). It's quite terrible, I know. One even has Robert Pattinson's face on it. Horrors.

Allow me to explain myself. Since I was made aware of what Twilight really is, I've looked upon it with derision (there was a very small period of time when I considered reading it, but that was when the only knowledge I had of it was that it was called "Twilight"). Not only did everything I hear about it offend me as a writer, but it also offended me as a basic person with some imagination (sparkling vampires. Honestly).

However, you, dear readers, may have noticed that key word that has been irking me myself for some time. "Hear." Everything I hear about it. The only personal hands-on experience I have with Twilight is my viewing of the movie (which I'd highly recommend if you need a good long laugh). I of course know that's nowhere near sufficient as my personal philosophy is to never judge a book by its movie or vice-versa. Therefor, it's simply unfair of me to judge the Twilight Saga without first at least reading them. Know thy enemy and all that.  I've always been an avid supporter of forming my own opinions, especially about what I read; so I hate to think of myself as one of those mindless, spiteful Twilight haters who ravage the series simply because it's been said to be better than Harry Potter (codswallop!).

So I devised a simple yet brilliant plan: to borrow the Twilight Saga and read them.

So I have (save for Breaking Dawn--anyone have a copy I might procure for a short period of time?), and I'm about to.

And I thought, since I haven't been posting in a while and this will most likely be the most interesting thing to happen in my mind for a while, I might do a series of posts detailing my Twilight Experiment. Sort of narratives/summaries/reviews as I go along, much like that British fellow on Youtube (but with much less profanity and probably much less hilarity; also I had this idea before I knew that British fellow had done it, so I'm really not copying promise.

So, dear reader, please bear witness:

I solemnly swear that I am up to no good...and also that I will go into this Experiment with as unbiased a mind as possible. I will keep all thoughts of pre-formed opinions and scorn completely from my mind, and read the Twilight Saga as if I know absolutely nothing about it, falling back into the readerly innocence that fueled my slight desire to read them in the very beginning. I solemnly swear that as much as is humanly possible by the grace of God that you will get an honest, unslanted, fresh opinion of all that I read. I will not let RoPat affect what I think, I will not let the twelve-year-old fangirls affect what I think, I will not let what I thought affect what I think.

So, let's see how this goes, shall we?

12.19.2009

White--Snow

Whisper-soft flakes fall in slow circles, moving in and out of the dervish of wind like dancers, now caught in a stately waltz, now spinning in wild revelry. 


One small, white hand traces the glass, following the snow with a long finger. "Perfect," she sighs against him.


White eyelashes curtain pale eyes looking down at the crown of her head; an unfamiliarly soft smile pulls at unpracticed lips. He's caught in awe he didn't know he could feel, simply at the feeling of how perfectly her head fits in the hollow of his throat, how easy it is to wrap his arms around her small shoulders.


It's calm and quiet and white around them.


"Perfect," he agrees.


***

It's snowing outside.  Marvelous, driving, ethereal flakes peppering my vision every time I look out a window. I love snow more than autumn; I love snow more than lightening; I love snow more than anything else that has ever graced God's wonderful creation.

There are few things better in this life than opening your eyes to see white enveloping a brown tile roof and simultaneously receiving a text from your boss that the office is closed for the day. I'm going to read by a window with tea and slippers, and play outside with the Hobbits, and sit with my family while it snows outside.

My heart is so full right now. Praise the Lord.

12.11.2009

To Be Harrassed Over Cellulars is but a Little Thing when Good Friends Surround--To My Bodyguards

Classes are almost done. Oh how I can't wait to be done school for an entire month. I have a portfolio to assemble, a presentation to write, two papers to pound out, and two finals to take, but by Thursday next week I'll officially be a free woman.

Went to school. Hung out in the library between classes because it was too cold to walk all the way back to the student union building. Admired Martin Luther more than any of my classmates in History. Did a bit dreadful on a Spanish quiz. Ate dinosaur chicken nuggets for the 97% I got back yesterday. Arm-wrestled little brother for the right to my last stegosaurus (and won, poor chap).

Oh I have pudding in the fridge!

Wasted lots of time. Watched Christmas episode of The Office and Bones (excellent episode I must say, especially for a show that tends to be so empirical about religion). Wished for Psych to be back--January 27! Wasted lots of time on Facebook.

And then I was interrupted by a text. A text from Elizabeth "Lix" Leach. A text asking what was I planning to do tonight? Well, I was going to do some studying, I answered, but nothing so urgent, why?

Oh well, would you like to see The Princess and the Frog with me then?

So I said, Yes that's fine.

And we did. Accompanied by Cathleen "Bodyguard" Gemmell and John "Sweetums" Leach. And it was marvelous. A simply astoundingly wonderful film. Ah, the old days of Disney still live somewhere within the hearts of a few animators, directors, and screenwriters.

I do not recommend: I command that you go see this movie this instant. Go. Now. Stop reading this, it's over. Leave. Buy your ticket now and watch it and hitchhike to New Orleans. Godspeed.

12.05.2009

Oh Saturday--Oh Saturday

Harumph. Yes. So. It's Saturday. Furthermore it's snowing outside.

Therefore, logically, it's time for some shameless pluggage!

For all who love wonderfully delightful Christmas things:

You must peruse the Etsy shop of my dearest friend and non-biological sister, Elizabeth Leach. She makes the most beautiful paper snowflakes I've ever seen, of varying shapes and unimaginable designs. Each one is different, and made with love and cheer that only Liz can muster. The skill with which these snowflakes are cut have a great tendency to blow my mind. She can make a snowflake that has nutcrackers in it, she can make a snowflake that looks evil, she can make a snowflake that spells out "mom." (You doubt? I have a picture) And those are just the fun ones.















Hang them from the ceiling, tape them to the window (it's what I do, and then the sun shines through and makes snowflake shadows on the floor), use them as coasters. Your house and/or place of residence will be the better for it.

If you have a brain, you will buy some: Liz's Etsy Shop of Christmas Wonder

Narration From the Other Side--Of Course Everything Looks Worse in Retrospect

So, as you've probably all guessed due to the lack of triumphant, awed post, I didn't make it to the finish line. Not even close. Events in November such as school, and (the biggest of all) the wedding of my wonderful sister Michelle, now Moraga, made the month hectic and busy. But, Nanowrimo was by no means a vain enterprise. While it's true that at this point I still blush in shame at all the perceived cliche aspects of my novel (of which there are many), berate myself for not simply turning my back on life in general and writing 'til my fingers bled as any truly dedicated writer would, and fight the urge to pretend that I didn't even enter instead of admitting to my paltry five thousand some words, no amount of self-deprecation will squelch in me the warm fuzzy pride I feel in the fact that I tried. I can now say, "Here, see, this is mine." Those five thousand odd words make up the first piece of original, full, non-academic writing I've done in probably two-and-a-half years. It. felt. Good. God gave me a passion for writing, and the gift for it (such as it is), and it feels lovely to be using it regularly again.

So I'll be continuing my novel as much as possible. And in nursing the sorrow of not being able to finish I remind myself that there's next year I can look forward to. And hopefully no one in the family will be getting married next November. Although with the way this family just adores patterns when it comes to major life events...

Anyway, now I've got a whole year to plan for next Nanowrimo. Muhaha.

SNOW.

11.10.2009

From the Pit--Nano Correspondence I

National Novel Writing Month is kicking my [apples]. Five thousand and ninety words. That's about half of what I'm supposed to have. I must remind myself:
  • Good writing = bad for me
  • Decent writing = bad for me
  • "That Perfect Word" will remain elusive and I will satisfy myself with "suspiciously."
  • Quality = bad for me
  • QUANTITY IS KING.
Anyone have any strategies to suggest as far as beefing up my word count goes? Word-eaters, such as extremely detailed physical descriptions, lengthy expositions, etc.?

Also, Chase Bradford Lowell's superpower is officially time management. But none of us in the Compass community are surprised.

[On a less related-to-the-header note, Constantine is officially fixed. His harddrive at itself, but we got him a new one, and now he has a spankin' new appendicitis story to impress the ladies and regale small children with. Furthermore he has Windows 7 which means: Mahjong Titans. Oh happy day.]