This doodle is a scene that probably will never be in Shadow Guardians, though I wouldn’t mind finding a way to work it in. :] Eeeek. I… love it. :] FLUFFEH! Like, so sweet it gives you cavities fluffeh.
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When one knew eternity stretched so far ahead, it was easy to spend much time simply sharing company. Back then, time was limited – forever was infinitely shorter. People scrambled, grappled. They fought to find the other half and often settled out of desperation. Finite time caused for such mistakes.
In the Shadow Realm, no such rush plagued. When one had eternity, there was no reason not to savor every moment. Georgie couldn’t be certain if she would always be at Noah’s side. Such an existence was as unpredictable as one spent alive. Certainly, though, she knew she’d quite like to.
Fingers entwined, Noah ushered her into the observatory and closed the door behind them. When she moved towards the window, though, he tightened his grip and tugged her back to him. Stumbling, she fell back against him and from this position, she felt, rather than heard, the rumble of his laughter in his chest.
“So controlled by routine,” her murmured, his voice low, his laugh loud.
Georgie blinked as she straightened and eyed him. “Are we breaking the habit?”
At her question, a smile formed, slow, upon his face. His eyes were intense as they found hers. She shivered when his free hand brushed aside a lock of her hair from her cheek.
“We could do to shake up the routine.”
His low voice caressed her heart and left a trail of ghostly finger tips along her chest. Sucking in her breath, Georgie watched Noah’s face. They had forever, but this moment… The tension grew palpable, anxiety danced in her toes. Again, Noah’s thumb stroked her cheek, the motion slower, deliberated. Fire leapt in her stomach.
“I’m not sure what it is about you,” he whispered, the sound barely a breath of air. “It’s… It’s not like I was never attracted to anyone else but… you… You… twist me around.”
Georgie knew it was irrational for jealousy to clutch her chest, but logic did nothing against its tight grip. Of course she was not the first. There had been Becca, of course. And before her, probably others. For that matter, maybe there had been others before her, here in the Shadow Realm. Yet, something so petty in matter swelled her heart in pain unjustified. Foolish, she chastised. All that matters is now.
“I want you to… I want you to be the last, Gee.” His murmur burst into urgency, the look in his face no longer gentle but stricken.
Her heart stirred and her body tingled. She knew this well – he tried to so hard to play cool, but emotion sized him, got the better of him and spilled forth in an outburst. At this, she smiled. His loss of composure comforted her jealous heart. Such a tell-tale sign.
“Don’t jump so far ahead,” whispered Georgie. “We… we’ve got forever. Literally. Forever.”
Panic. Confusion. She watched the flicker of his face, all the while she wore a tender smile. Did he not understand? Her lips parted, but she was given no chance to explain. His hand released hers and fumbled for her waist. The motion was jerky and he simultaneously stepped back against the door and tugged her close.
“What’s forever if I can’t fully enjoy it?” he asked, his whisper haggard.
The wrench in her heart took Georgie by surprise, but it was probably the look in his eyes which turned her to ice. Was he scared? Sad? Hurt? She couldn’t stand that. Even still – he spoke of such intimacy, of something so serious. There was no reason to rush. No cause for headstrong, recklessness. What was so wrong with just enjoying time, just taking comfort in each other’s presence. With all of forever before them, why did they have to scramble, to fumble, to rush something so beautiful, when they could take time and savor every moment?
“Can’t you enjoy forever now?” She didn’t expect her voice to crack. “Isn’t this good enough for you? Us… this…”
His laughter was hollow, but Georgie’s focus was on the way Noah held her chin, cradled in his thumb and forefinger.
“You’ve got no idea. Of course! God, of course. But… God, Gee. My… my patience… and us. Tension… Sometimes I just… I want to…”
Breath held, Georgie watched Noah search for the words. He looked so helpless, so frustrated, with his forehead wrinkled like that, his nose scrunched, his lips set in that pout. Again, fire swallowed her stomach, engulfed her whole. A tremble shook her finger as she lift it and Noah’s search ceased. The tip of her finger tingled, whether an effect of his mouth or boldness, she didn’t know. In their silence, her eyes fell shut, lashes fluttered against her cheeks, as she gently traced his pillowy lips. Like his caress, her motions were slow, deliberated, as her finger followed the gentle curves and dips of his mouth.
Georgie imagined the building pressure within her might be leaning towards combustion.
When his lips formed around her finger tip, she gasped, a sharp exhale. Even with her eyes closed, she sensed his chuckle around the kiss.
And then, with a groan, Noah pushed her finger away and tugged her, again, to him. Before she had a chance to react, his hands cradled her face, fingers tangled back in her hair. Their ragged breath match each others’, mingled as he touched his forehead against hers. It shamed her to be so corny, but more than anything, Georgie loved how his whispered “Gee” reverberated in her heart and tickled her cheek.
She did want it. In that moment, more than anything, she wanted it.
His kiss lingered upon her forehead, his lips not budging, and her heart raced in her throat.
“Noah,” she breathed.
His arms, tight around her, were secure and promising as they crushed her against him. They had all of forever – eternity stretched before them.
But Georgie understood the race, the rush. Their hearts thrummed against each other and their fingers trembled with yearning. They fumbled their touch, their trace, their search. Noah’s arms around her filled her with promise, though
After all. They had all of forever.
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Between You and Me
This is a Shadow Guardians based writing doodle. :] There may be spoilers, to those who aren't up-to-date with the writing. But. It's cute? And sort of bittersweet? But. I LIKE IT SO. Whatever. =D
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Angelica would be so pissed if she found out. He was mostly certain she would not – and if hope wouldn’t work, he crossed his fingers inside the baggy pockets of his hoodie. Deep inside, a vague memory stirred, one yet unforgotten. Above him, a night sky as he crossed fingers and leant towards her. His stomach clenched as he reminisced, as he turned her face and his memory self brushed his lips against her cheek. Misfortune seemed their destiny from the start. This realization crumbled his heart. Carefully, he shook the memory from his mind; later, he would log it in his journal.
For now, more important matters begged for attention.
At first, he said nothing. In silence, he stood in the doorway. His weight shifted and his lanky form leant against the doorframe. Eyes steadfast, he watched her from behind, like he’d done so many times, so long ago. This was so natural to him, it could have been a scene from his life. Her slender fingers held the brush with such ease, an act natural to her, and the trail of blue followed her sweeping arc.
Not moving, he waited as she paused, her arm lowered, as she lay the brush down with such care, as she pivoted slowly.
“Adam.”
No surprise colored her voice or her eyes. If anything, they both were gentle, if not rather empty.
He chose not to offer her a real response and only muttered a gruff “yeah”.
Persistent and unfazed as always, she was not deterred, and instead, offered him a serene smile. Her smokey eyes were half-lidded as she watched him and his stomach stirred again. Such a look on her face was so familiar, and he recalled nights shared together, tangled hair and swollen fingers. Adam bit back a groan and tore his eyes away.
“I’m not surprised, you know.” The serenity of her speech was most jarring – her husky voice sounded almost tender, almost understanding.
And that made him angry.
“About what?” he asked. To busy himself, he jammed his hands further into his pockets, tugged his hoodie away from his body in straining effort. Anything to keep him from meeting her face.
When she spoke again, her voice sounded nearer. “About everything. You. Me. The way you reacted. How you avoided me. That it took you so long.”
He flinched, as if it was the sound of her speech which most hurt. In a way, though, it was.
“Don’t sound so proud, Roni.” His attempt to spit these words was half-hearted and they instead tumbled, uncertain and hesitant, but he was still pleased with the way she started, if only subtly.
In her silence, he took a cursory study of her. During their first encounter, he had been too shocked, too appalled to really take her in. Now, he drank her in, his gaze thirsty. She was different. For some reason, this surprised him so much a nervous flutter tickled his stomach. Her once beautiful hair was mangy, a mess, unkempt. When he was alive, he’d loved her hair – it was so silky and soft when he wound the tresses round his fingers, or when they fell in damp waves fresh out of the shower. Thinking on this, his throat tightened, and he shifted his gaze, tried to move his thoughts onward. Instead, he took in her thin build. So thin, so fragile. Before his eyes, she appeared breakable, so easily breakable. With little force, he could snap her. Had she wasted away?
Swallowing around the lump in his throat was impossible. He merely sighed, the noise heavy.
“I realize you’re upset with me-“
Adam did not allow her to finish. “Upset does not begin to cover it!” His interruption exploded from him, too loud for his ears. “Upset. Angry. Pissed off! You… knew… you… I just don’t understand!”
Bitter laughter responded. “Of course you don’t,” said Roni, and again, Adam felt a swell of anger from her assurance. “I told you. You cannot understand it. Even still… even now you’re too good, too pure. But you’re also too selfish.”
He felt his brows twist and rounded upon the girl before him. Unlike his, which had found his shoes so curious, her eyes were intent upon him, equally gentle and sad. It broke his heart to see the mess she had become. To see her. Why did she not realize this? And why was he so masochistic as to come looking for her like this? Later, he told himself, he would yell at Rowan for not talking him out of this asinine idea.
“You never realized, Adam. All that time, I was suffering, alone, depressed, empty. And you never knew! Maybe I was too good an actress or maybe you didn’t know the real me, but whatever the case, when you left me, you left me and it hurt so much, Adam!”
Every time she spoke his name, his heart shattered further and his hands balled into his fists inside his pockets. How dare she speak to him like this. How dare she! Anger boiled in his veins, swam dizzy in his head. Was he swaying on the spot? He felt as if he was.
“If you’d just spoken to me… if you hadn’t acted so rashly, things would’ve been different. I wouldn’t have lost you. And your mother-“
This, he could not listen to. A hand went up in the air, flagging her for silence. Obedient, she fell quiet at once.
“I told you, Roni. I explained this already.”
He watched her swallow, her lips turn inward.
“Yes. You did. But. I’m confused. If you don’t want to discuss that… then why did you come to find me? I’m confused, Adam. Explain this for me.”
“I… don’t know.” The truth sounded so helpless when spoken out loud, but he couldn’t muster a lie for her. Never for her. Somehow, Roni effortlessly commanded and received his honesty and he hated it. Eyes on his feet, he felt, rather than saw, her move closer.
“I wish you could understand,” she whispered, her voice barely a breath of air in his ear. “I wish you could understand how sorry I am. How
Against his will, he shivered. There was no way to prevent the involuntary tremble, but he hated himself for it all the same. That his body reacted, still, to her. After all this time! It bothered him.
“That life… that… it’s over,” he croaked.
Her sad hum was melodic, but haunting. “I know, Adam. Can’t we start over?”
Slender fingers laced between his. Upon reflex, he gripped her hand in his. She must’ve taken this for an affirmation, for she moved near him. Adam was not sure how he felt about this.
This was a lie, actually. Adam knew very well how he felt about this. A very large, very massive sum of himself wanted her. He wanted to pull her back into his arms like he used to, and to feel her mouth on his again. More than anything, he missed the fingers tangled in hair and the warmth of skin upon skin. Raspy breathing was the only sound audible and he realized, it came from him.
It caused him physical pain to do so, but he pulled away from her, his fingers last to trail away from hers.
She took a shuddering breath, eyes on the floor.
“I’m sorry.”
Her apology shocked him and Adam felt that crushing weight in his chest. Against his better judgment, he gave in to his will. The two steps between them closed in a fraction of a second and he pulled her to him. Gangly arms tugged her to his chest, crossed over the back of his head. Erratic thoughts ran through his head, all about her, about them, about how this hurt, and he took a deep breath, before he lowered his mouth to the top of her head.
“We can start over,” he mumbled into her hair. “But. I won’t… we… I can’t make promises. You screwed up and you shouldn’t be here. We’ll start over. But we’ll be friends. We’ll… get to know each other again. The real us. Not a fake you or a fake me or people masquerading, okay? We’ll be honest and real and we’ll start over.”
Roni said nothing at first. When she moved her thing, wiry arms around him and held him back, though, he kissed the top of her head once more, bid good-bye to their past, and opened his arms.
There was no point to a grudge if he had forever. If anything, forever was an opportunity. Ever the optimist, Adam knew he had to be a fool to pass it over. And, while he knew he and Roni were too different, far different from who they used to be, a beam of hope shown, if only for their friendship. To spend eternity avoiding her was impossible. It was impossible before and even more so now.
Adam would always love her, and she him.
But now, he realized, he could learn who she really was, and maybe, perhaps, he could figure out how to love the real Roni, if only through friendship.
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Angelica would be so pissed if she found out. He was mostly certain she would not – and if hope wouldn’t work, he crossed his fingers inside the baggy pockets of his hoodie. Deep inside, a vague memory stirred, one yet unforgotten. Above him, a night sky as he crossed fingers and leant towards her. His stomach clenched as he reminisced, as he turned her face and his memory self brushed his lips against her cheek. Misfortune seemed their destiny from the start. This realization crumbled his heart. Carefully, he shook the memory from his mind; later, he would log it in his journal.
For now, more important matters begged for attention.
At first, he said nothing. In silence, he stood in the doorway. His weight shifted and his lanky form leant against the doorframe. Eyes steadfast, he watched her from behind, like he’d done so many times, so long ago. This was so natural to him, it could have been a scene from his life. Her slender fingers held the brush with such ease, an act natural to her, and the trail of blue followed her sweeping arc.
Not moving, he waited as she paused, her arm lowered, as she lay the brush down with such care, as she pivoted slowly.
“Adam.”
No surprise colored her voice or her eyes. If anything, they both were gentle, if not rather empty.
He chose not to offer her a real response and only muttered a gruff “yeah”.
Persistent and unfazed as always, she was not deterred, and instead, offered him a serene smile. Her smokey eyes were half-lidded as she watched him and his stomach stirred again. Such a look on her face was so familiar, and he recalled nights shared together, tangled hair and swollen fingers. Adam bit back a groan and tore his eyes away.
“I’m not surprised, you know.” The serenity of her speech was most jarring – her husky voice sounded almost tender, almost understanding.
And that made him angry.
“About what?” he asked. To busy himself, he jammed his hands further into his pockets, tugged his hoodie away from his body in straining effort. Anything to keep him from meeting her face.
When she spoke again, her voice sounded nearer. “About everything. You. Me. The way you reacted. How you avoided me. That it took you so long.”
He flinched, as if it was the sound of her speech which most hurt. In a way, though, it was.
“Don’t sound so proud, Roni.” His attempt to spit these words was half-hearted and they instead tumbled, uncertain and hesitant, but he was still pleased with the way she started, if only subtly.
In her silence, he took a cursory study of her. During their first encounter, he had been too shocked, too appalled to really take her in. Now, he drank her in, his gaze thirsty. She was different. For some reason, this surprised him so much a nervous flutter tickled his stomach. Her once beautiful hair was mangy, a mess, unkempt. When he was alive, he’d loved her hair – it was so silky and soft when he wound the tresses round his fingers, or when they fell in damp waves fresh out of the shower. Thinking on this, his throat tightened, and he shifted his gaze, tried to move his thoughts onward. Instead, he took in her thin build. So thin, so fragile. Before his eyes, she appeared breakable, so easily breakable. With little force, he could snap her. Had she wasted away?
Swallowing around the lump in his throat was impossible. He merely sighed, the noise heavy.
“I realize you’re upset with me-“
Adam did not allow her to finish. “Upset does not begin to cover it!” His interruption exploded from him, too loud for his ears. “Upset. Angry. Pissed off! You… knew… you… I just don’t understand!”
Bitter laughter responded. “Of course you don’t,” said Roni, and again, Adam felt a swell of anger from her assurance. “I told you. You cannot understand it. Even still… even now you’re too good, too pure. But you’re also too selfish.”
He felt his brows twist and rounded upon the girl before him. Unlike his, which had found his shoes so curious, her eyes were intent upon him, equally gentle and sad. It broke his heart to see the mess she had become. To see her. Why did she not realize this? And why was he so masochistic as to come looking for her like this? Later, he told himself, he would yell at Rowan for not talking him out of this asinine idea.
“You never realized, Adam. All that time, I was suffering, alone, depressed, empty. And you never knew! Maybe I was too good an actress or maybe you didn’t know the real me, but whatever the case, when you left me, you left me and it hurt so much, Adam!”
Every time she spoke his name, his heart shattered further and his hands balled into his fists inside his pockets. How dare she speak to him like this. How dare she! Anger boiled in his veins, swam dizzy in his head. Was he swaying on the spot? He felt as if he was.
“If you’d just spoken to me… if you hadn’t acted so rashly, things would’ve been different. I wouldn’t have lost you. And your mother-“
This, he could not listen to. A hand went up in the air, flagging her for silence. Obedient, she fell quiet at once.
“I told you, Roni. I explained this already.”
He watched her swallow, her lips turn inward.
“Yes. You did. But. I’m confused. If you don’t want to discuss that… then why did you come to find me? I’m confused, Adam. Explain this for me.”
“I… don’t know.” The truth sounded so helpless when spoken out loud, but he couldn’t muster a lie for her. Never for her. Somehow, Roni effortlessly commanded and received his honesty and he hated it. Eyes on his feet, he felt, rather than saw, her move closer.
“I wish you could understand,” she whispered, her voice barely a breath of air in his ear. “I wish you could understand how sorry I am. How
Against his will, he shivered. There was no way to prevent the involuntary tremble, but he hated himself for it all the same. That his body reacted, still, to her. After all this time! It bothered him.
“That life… that… it’s over,” he croaked.
Her sad hum was melodic, but haunting. “I know, Adam. Can’t we start over?”
Slender fingers laced between his. Upon reflex, he gripped her hand in his. She must’ve taken this for an affirmation, for she moved near him. Adam was not sure how he felt about this.
This was a lie, actually. Adam knew very well how he felt about this. A very large, very massive sum of himself wanted her. He wanted to pull her back into his arms like he used to, and to feel her mouth on his again. More than anything, he missed the fingers tangled in hair and the warmth of skin upon skin. Raspy breathing was the only sound audible and he realized, it came from him.
It caused him physical pain to do so, but he pulled away from her, his fingers last to trail away from hers.
She took a shuddering breath, eyes on the floor.
“I’m sorry.”
Her apology shocked him and Adam felt that crushing weight in his chest. Against his better judgment, he gave in to his will. The two steps between them closed in a fraction of a second and he pulled her to him. Gangly arms tugged her to his chest, crossed over the back of his head. Erratic thoughts ran through his head, all about her, about them, about how this hurt, and he took a deep breath, before he lowered his mouth to the top of her head.
“We can start over,” he mumbled into her hair. “But. I won’t… we… I can’t make promises. You screwed up and you shouldn’t be here. We’ll start over. But we’ll be friends. We’ll… get to know each other again. The real us. Not a fake you or a fake me or people masquerading, okay? We’ll be honest and real and we’ll start over.”
Roni said nothing at first. When she moved her thing, wiry arms around him and held him back, though, he kissed the top of her head once more, bid good-bye to their past, and opened his arms.
There was no point to a grudge if he had forever. If anything, forever was an opportunity. Ever the optimist, Adam knew he had to be a fool to pass it over. And, while he knew he and Roni were too different, far different from who they used to be, a beam of hope shown, if only for their friendship. To spend eternity avoiding her was impossible. It was impossible before and even more so now.
Adam would always love her, and she him.
But now, he realized, he could learn who she really was, and maybe, perhaps, he could figure out how to love the real Roni, if only through friendship.
Happy Wizarding Independence Day
As today is May 2, I figured it only proper to write about Harry Potter. If I was not me, perhaps I would apologize for the nerdiness of this post, but honestly? As both an author and a massive fan of Harry Potter, there is nothing to apologize for.
Those who are on Facebook, fan or not of the series, probably know of the Wizarding Independence Day - a.k.a the Day Harry defeated Voldemort. It's hard not to know of it. Even those who don't read the fan have probably seen the statuses go up, the notices of their friend attending this event through their newsfeed. Facebook is notorious about telling you everything your friends are doing. 89,529 people are attending this event. How impressive, considering this is a fictional day of celebration.
If I was J.K. Rowling, I would feel not only immensely proud, but ever so impressed right now. Honestly, I would be beside myself with pleasure. This series was and is so important to everybody who ever fell in love with these books, and I feel a little shiver every time I see somebody's status go up with a Harry Potter quote or some variation of Happy Wizarding Independence Day. All Rowling did was wrote a series about a boy she came up with and look what it did.
Not many books find this sort of recognition. Not many books have such an amazing fandom. And it makes me proud. I am proud to have grown up with these characters. I remember receiving the first and second books for Christmas during fifth grade and I fell in love at once. There was no way not to. Those characters... I don't know, I cannot find appropriate words for it.
The best part, I think, was growing up with those characters, though. Most definitely. We all changed and grew up and matured with each other. I watched them go from awkward, gawky, nearly helpless children and blossom into these amazing adults, and save the world. That... goodness, I tear up writing that. It's beautiful, a dream for authors, to be able to have your audience so close to your characters, so immersed in your world and Rowling did it perfectly. As we grew, the books grew subtly more and more mature, complex, darker, and the writing progressed from simplistic, almost as if she had anticipated us growing with the series.
That makes me swell. Swell.
Today seems like a good day to begin re-reading the series, again. Such a fantastic series of stories, an epic tale of good vs. evil, a beautiful telling of a young boy who with an amazing destiny. Quite simply, Harry Potter is perfection.
Thank-you, Rowling, for giving us Harry Potter and his amazing world. Thank-you for offering us a world to hide out in when we desperately need it. Thank-you for expanding our imagination. Thank-you for introducing so many kids to reading. And thank-you for giving us a series that will forever stay with us.
<3
- Lady Ashlie
Those who are on Facebook, fan or not of the series, probably know of the Wizarding Independence Day - a.k.a the Day Harry defeated Voldemort. It's hard not to know of it. Even those who don't read the fan have probably seen the statuses go up, the notices of their friend attending this event through their newsfeed. Facebook is notorious about telling you everything your friends are doing. 89,529 people are attending this event. How impressive, considering this is a fictional day of celebration.
If I was J.K. Rowling, I would feel not only immensely proud, but ever so impressed right now. Honestly, I would be beside myself with pleasure. This series was and is so important to everybody who ever fell in love with these books, and I feel a little shiver every time I see somebody's status go up with a Harry Potter quote or some variation of Happy Wizarding Independence Day. All Rowling did was wrote a series about a boy she came up with and look what it did.
Not many books find this sort of recognition. Not many books have such an amazing fandom. And it makes me proud. I am proud to have grown up with these characters. I remember receiving the first and second books for Christmas during fifth grade and I fell in love at once. There was no way not to. Those characters... I don't know, I cannot find appropriate words for it.
The best part, I think, was growing up with those characters, though. Most definitely. We all changed and grew up and matured with each other. I watched them go from awkward, gawky, nearly helpless children and blossom into these amazing adults, and save the world. That... goodness, I tear up writing that. It's beautiful, a dream for authors, to be able to have your audience so close to your characters, so immersed in your world and Rowling did it perfectly. As we grew, the books grew subtly more and more mature, complex, darker, and the writing progressed from simplistic, almost as if she had anticipated us growing with the series.
That makes me swell. Swell.
Today seems like a good day to begin re-reading the series, again. Such a fantastic series of stories, an epic tale of good vs. evil, a beautiful telling of a young boy who with an amazing destiny. Quite simply, Harry Potter is perfection.
Thank-you, Rowling, for giving us Harry Potter and his amazing world. Thank-you for offering us a world to hide out in when we desperately need it. Thank-you for expanding our imagination. Thank-you for introducing so many kids to reading. And thank-you for giving us a series that will forever stay with us.
<3
- Lady Ashlie
Saturday, May 1, 2010
15 Books That Will Stick With Me
Rules: Don't take too long to think about it. List 15 books you've read that will always stick with you. They should be the first 15 you can recall in no more than 15 minutes. Tag some friends, including me, because I'm interested in seeing what books my friends choose. (To do this, go to your Notes tab on your Profile page, paste rules in a new Note, cast your 15 picks, and tag people in the Note, upper right hand side.)
1. Harry Potter series [J.K. Rowling]
This is probably seen as a cop-out, using the series as a whole, but really, they ARE an entity of their own. What kid who grew up with Harry Potter will never keep that series in their hearts? The characters, the story; the whole thing is beautiful. Never have I been fonder of a friendship as that of Harry, Ron, Hermione, and all their friends, professors included. <3 Harry Potter changed my world of writing and reading. Of course it will stay with me.
2. Sarah Dessen books [Sarah Dessen]
I promise, this is the last cop-out. But Dessen has woven a world in which stories and characters cross back into each others’ lives. This continuity leads me to link their stories together. Most notably, this is inclusive of The Truth About Forever (auugh Wes, I LOVE YOU), This Lullaby (omg Dexter love you), Along for the Ride (I so admire Auden. And adored Eli), and Lock and Key (Ruby is probably the one character who changes the most.) Dessen completely changed the way I write, develop characters and construct the relationships between all my characters. Her voice is so authentic and unique to each character, they are all believable and realistic. From time to time, I find myself wondering about the characters, as I should with all good books.
3. To Kill a Mockingbird [Harper Lee]
Without a doubt, this book never ceases to make me cry. The movie, too, for that matter. The honesty and rawness of this book are painful, in a most beautiful way. I cannot describe the ache I felt from this story Рone not only of racism, but so much else, most notably the harsh realities of growing up, the lapse of naivet̩ and the tender pains of leaving behind childhood.
4. The Outsiders [S. E. Hinton]
I’d seen the movie many times before I finally read the book, but the movie could not even prepare me. Obviously, they are different and things are changed/left out, but it’s probably just because I connect so well to books that I was so affected. Oh, Pony Boy. How your story broke my heart. And Johnny… I am sure this movie/book is the reason I am so incredibly in LOVE with the name Johnny. Everything about this book just ACHES : their hard lives, the gang fights, the way the freaking book ends. And despite having seen the movie, despite knowing what is coming, I still bawl when I read it. I remember the first time I read it, I had to close the book, hug it to myself, and just CRY for a good half hour. Raw, emotional, REAL. Of course this book stays with me – I came to think of those characters as family of my own!
5. The Perks of Being a Wallflower [Stephen Chbosky]
This book found me at the absolute right time in my life. During a time when I was filled of self-doubt and inadequacy issues, Chbosky fed me all the right lines, all the perfect quotes to get me through my issues. Such quotes as: “So, this is my life. And I want you to know that I am both happy and sad and I'm still trying to figure out how that could be” , “Maybe it’s sad that these are now memories. And maybe it’s not sad” , “I don’t want to start thinking again. Not like I have this last week. I can’t think again. Not ever again” , “I don’t know if you’ve ever felt like that. That you wanted to sleep for a thousand years. Or just not exist. Or just not be aware that you do exist. Or something like that. I think wanting that is very morbid, but I want it when I get like this. That’s why I’m trying not to think. I just want it all to stop spinning” , while so very EMO sounding were exactly what I felt, what everyone, at one point in time, has felt. And this resonated SO STRONGLY within me. I remember crying so much when I read it – it was a painful read for me and the end shattered me, in a melancholy manner. But I love it dearly and continue to re-read it. Charlie is such an HONEST protagonist, and he holds nothing back – not the words we hide for ourselves, not the thoughts we’re too afraid to say, not the seemingly petty moments.
6. Feed [M. T. Anderson]
The first book I read by Anderson was Thirsty, and while it left an impression on me, it was nothing like Feed. This post-cyberpunk, dystopian story is set in a future where humans have become controlled by ads, to the point that they don’t even think for themselves. Feeds, connected to their brains at birth, feed them with advertisements, with a pop culture that not only grips, but controls them. Titus and his friends are perfectly content with their lives – they do not think, they do not read, they do not even write! Information is just at their fingertips (or rather, their brains) and life is EASY. When Titus meets Violet, though, she shows them the mess their lives are. While Titus never seems to understand this at first, it makes you THINK. I cannot say that for many young adult novels, but this book made you think. It wasn’t hard to understand the theme – our society is continually dumbing down, choosing convenience over work and intelligence. Like all the books on this list, I cried, and the ending, while bittersweet, was so honest. I couldn’t stop thinking about it for ages.
7. Looking for Alaska [John Green]
As with Feed, Looking for Alaska was not the first of this author’s I read. I was introduced to Green though the ever-so-witty An Abundance of Katherines and knew instantly I would love Looking for Alaska once I finally got to it, and I wasn’t let down. Yet again, another honest protagonist who tells his story through the mouth of a real teenage boy. His obsession with Alaska is one part amusing and alarming, one part tender and sweet. Green is a most amazing writer and while I recommend any of his works, this one, most certainly, has a place in my heart. His unveiling of the story of Alaska is a craft, a work of art, and it is done so well, I cannot help but reread it.
8. Peter Pan
I will confess now – I am a sucker for stories of childhood and innocence. Also, I am a sucker for Peter Pan – the book, the Disney movie, the live-action movie. Yes, like with all the books in this list, it makes me cry. In fact, I’m not entirely sure why I bawled when I finally read this book. Peter Pan represents an innocence that so many people give up, and I think I was most bothered with Wendy not only leaving him, but to become a boring adult. The very least they could have done is allowed her to grow up with a child’s heart! This, of course, was not the message, and I think it’s what made me feel saddest, emptiest. That this, supposedly, was to be our fate? To leave behind childhood, to grow up, and to remember the second star to the right, straight on to morning? What made me cry hardest, I recall, was knowing Peter would come back to visit, and always his friends would have grown older – and he would have given up on them! – and he would befriend the daughter, to continue this pattern forever. Bittersweet.
9. 13 Reasons Why [Jay Asher]
Asher created a most compelling tale here, complete with my silly tears. Clay tells the story of Hannah, who has recently committed suicide, through the use of a mysterious box shown up on his doorstep, containing cassettes. Each side of these tapes is intended for one of 13 people who contributed to her suicide in some way or form. Most haunting, I think, was their effect on her life, her decision to take her life, and the concept that people are so interlinked, whether we want to be or not. Of course, one of the sides of this tape is meant for Clay, who cannot imagine how he contributed to the suicide of a girl he was so fond of. Yes, I cried. Yes, I thought about this book for so long after. Dark, honest, raw, emotional. It was beautiful.
10. The Amber Spyglass [Philip Pullman]
I read the His Dark Materials series in middle school, and this one, the final of the series, stuck out most prominently. Don’t get me wrong – the whole series is fascinating, fantastic, well-crafted and well developed. What most makes this stick out in my mind, I think, is the ending, and the travel to the world of the dead. Both Lyra and Will change so indefinitely, so indescribably, and the ending tugged every string of my heart. Such an incredible tale most certainly sticks with me – the characters, those alive and dead, those who sacrificed and antagonized. Beautiful.
11. The Lovely Bones [Alice Sebold]
Within the third chapter, I believe, I was bawling. I remember talking to Angie while attempting to read this and encountering moments where I cried so hard I couldn’t see anything. I’m such a sucker for emotional aspects of stories. I cried when she told the story of being raped and murdered and I bawled through the aftermath of her family and their attempts to cope. Everything about this book is just DEVASTATING. Of course there is no REAL happy ending – the dirty deed is done and you know from the start. Haunting is an appropriate term for this. I can’t imagine how this wouldn’t stick with anyone after reading.
12. Elsewhere [Gabrielle Zevin]
I wasn’t entirely sure of what I was getting into when I read this book. I know Boo liked the book and it sounded appealing. I didn’t expect to ravish the book the way I did, though. Trucking through books is nothing out of the ordinary for me, but to ravish a book isn’t super common for me. To absolutely plow through it, eat it up, and hold it to myself. Elsewhere tells of a most fascinating after life – animals can talk, people are employed and, most curious, you age backwards from the age of your death, all the way back to infancy, when you are sent down the river, to be reborn. And, my goodness. I cried, so very much. It was beautiful! Told in simplistic writing, it was sweet, it was tender, and most of all, it was raw. And yeah, sort of depressing.
13. The Realm of Possibility [David Levithan]
This is not quite my favorite Levithan book, for my favorite is his collaboration with Rachel Cohn, Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlits. However, this one does resonate far more strongly within me. This is a snapshot of the lives of numerous friends and acquaintances and how they are all interlinked, despite some who may have nothing to do with each other. Told through prose and free-form, poetry, song, etc, each character is unique, each character has a story. It was… a fabulous read. (P.S: I totally recommend his book, Boy Meets Boy, if you aren’t squeamish about boy love/anti-homosexuals. The book is not detailed in anything, but it tells a BEAUTIFUL story for a BEAUTIFUL world, where the football quarterback is also the head cheerleader, where gay hate is almost nonexistent and dance parties strike up in the self-help section of the book stores. It’s beautiful and hopeful.)
14. The Ruby Oliver Series [E. Lockhart]
I know, I know! Another cop out! But again, I cannot choose only one from this series. Lockhart changed my writing in so many ways. She writes a spunky, leper-slut who tries to do the right thing but screws up or gives into selfishness. Roo’s story is real – you don’t always get the boy, your feelings aren’t always reciprocated, and sometimes, high school – your friends included – really suck. Like I said, she changed a lot of my writing, my thinking, my development. Between Lockhart and the aforementioned Dessen, my writing has been greatly influenced.
15. Junebug [Ashley Poston]
What’s that? You’ve never heard of this one? Of course you haven’t! Written by a now-very dear friend of mine, this story is going to go places. Junebug tells the story of Junie Baltimore, who winds up running into her past by running into her recent past. Easily relatable, Junie has insecurities like any other girl, fears, inadequacy issues, etc. but her voice is so strong that, even though she is so like any of us, she is so very unique. Besides, I am a sucker for the story of two friends who SO belong together. I remember when I first started reading this – I was anxious, so anxious, to finish it and to find out how everything worked out. Poston brilliantly leaves the reader wondering if there will be a happy ending and if the happy ending is actually the right one. More so than many books I’ve read, I have honestly found myself thinking of Junie and Rob and Caspian and Mags, wondering what they’re all up to, how their lives have worked out. <3 Eghads. I suppose being friends with the author is a possible reason it sticks with me, but, really, I consider our friendship a benefit of this read.
1. Harry Potter series [J.K. Rowling]
This is probably seen as a cop-out, using the series as a whole, but really, they ARE an entity of their own. What kid who grew up with Harry Potter will never keep that series in their hearts? The characters, the story; the whole thing is beautiful. Never have I been fonder of a friendship as that of Harry, Ron, Hermione, and all their friends, professors included. <3 Harry Potter changed my world of writing and reading. Of course it will stay with me.
2. Sarah Dessen books [Sarah Dessen]
I promise, this is the last cop-out. But Dessen has woven a world in which stories and characters cross back into each others’ lives. This continuity leads me to link their stories together. Most notably, this is inclusive of The Truth About Forever (auugh Wes, I LOVE YOU), This Lullaby (omg Dexter love you), Along for the Ride (I so admire Auden. And adored Eli), and Lock and Key (Ruby is probably the one character who changes the most.) Dessen completely changed the way I write, develop characters and construct the relationships between all my characters. Her voice is so authentic and unique to each character, they are all believable and realistic. From time to time, I find myself wondering about the characters, as I should with all good books.
3. To Kill a Mockingbird [Harper Lee]
Without a doubt, this book never ceases to make me cry. The movie, too, for that matter. The honesty and rawness of this book are painful, in a most beautiful way. I cannot describe the ache I felt from this story Рone not only of racism, but so much else, most notably the harsh realities of growing up, the lapse of naivet̩ and the tender pains of leaving behind childhood.
4. The Outsiders [S. E. Hinton]
I’d seen the movie many times before I finally read the book, but the movie could not even prepare me. Obviously, they are different and things are changed/left out, but it’s probably just because I connect so well to books that I was so affected. Oh, Pony Boy. How your story broke my heart. And Johnny… I am sure this movie/book is the reason I am so incredibly in LOVE with the name Johnny. Everything about this book just ACHES : their hard lives, the gang fights, the way the freaking book ends. And despite having seen the movie, despite knowing what is coming, I still bawl when I read it. I remember the first time I read it, I had to close the book, hug it to myself, and just CRY for a good half hour. Raw, emotional, REAL. Of course this book stays with me – I came to think of those characters as family of my own!
5. The Perks of Being a Wallflower [Stephen Chbosky]
This book found me at the absolute right time in my life. During a time when I was filled of self-doubt and inadequacy issues, Chbosky fed me all the right lines, all the perfect quotes to get me through my issues. Such quotes as: “So, this is my life. And I want you to know that I am both happy and sad and I'm still trying to figure out how that could be” , “Maybe it’s sad that these are now memories. And maybe it’s not sad” , “I don’t want to start thinking again. Not like I have this last week. I can’t think again. Not ever again” , “I don’t know if you’ve ever felt like that. That you wanted to sleep for a thousand years. Or just not exist. Or just not be aware that you do exist. Or something like that. I think wanting that is very morbid, but I want it when I get like this. That’s why I’m trying not to think. I just want it all to stop spinning” , while so very EMO sounding were exactly what I felt, what everyone, at one point in time, has felt. And this resonated SO STRONGLY within me. I remember crying so much when I read it – it was a painful read for me and the end shattered me, in a melancholy manner. But I love it dearly and continue to re-read it. Charlie is such an HONEST protagonist, and he holds nothing back – not the words we hide for ourselves, not the thoughts we’re too afraid to say, not the seemingly petty moments.
6. Feed [M. T. Anderson]
The first book I read by Anderson was Thirsty, and while it left an impression on me, it was nothing like Feed. This post-cyberpunk, dystopian story is set in a future where humans have become controlled by ads, to the point that they don’t even think for themselves. Feeds, connected to their brains at birth, feed them with advertisements, with a pop culture that not only grips, but controls them. Titus and his friends are perfectly content with their lives – they do not think, they do not read, they do not even write! Information is just at their fingertips (or rather, their brains) and life is EASY. When Titus meets Violet, though, she shows them the mess their lives are. While Titus never seems to understand this at first, it makes you THINK. I cannot say that for many young adult novels, but this book made you think. It wasn’t hard to understand the theme – our society is continually dumbing down, choosing convenience over work and intelligence. Like all the books on this list, I cried, and the ending, while bittersweet, was so honest. I couldn’t stop thinking about it for ages.
7. Looking for Alaska [John Green]
As with Feed, Looking for Alaska was not the first of this author’s I read. I was introduced to Green though the ever-so-witty An Abundance of Katherines and knew instantly I would love Looking for Alaska once I finally got to it, and I wasn’t let down. Yet again, another honest protagonist who tells his story through the mouth of a real teenage boy. His obsession with Alaska is one part amusing and alarming, one part tender and sweet. Green is a most amazing writer and while I recommend any of his works, this one, most certainly, has a place in my heart. His unveiling of the story of Alaska is a craft, a work of art, and it is done so well, I cannot help but reread it.
8. Peter Pan
I will confess now – I am a sucker for stories of childhood and innocence. Also, I am a sucker for Peter Pan – the book, the Disney movie, the live-action movie. Yes, like with all the books in this list, it makes me cry. In fact, I’m not entirely sure why I bawled when I finally read this book. Peter Pan represents an innocence that so many people give up, and I think I was most bothered with Wendy not only leaving him, but to become a boring adult. The very least they could have done is allowed her to grow up with a child’s heart! This, of course, was not the message, and I think it’s what made me feel saddest, emptiest. That this, supposedly, was to be our fate? To leave behind childhood, to grow up, and to remember the second star to the right, straight on to morning? What made me cry hardest, I recall, was knowing Peter would come back to visit, and always his friends would have grown older – and he would have given up on them! – and he would befriend the daughter, to continue this pattern forever. Bittersweet.
9. 13 Reasons Why [Jay Asher]
Asher created a most compelling tale here, complete with my silly tears. Clay tells the story of Hannah, who has recently committed suicide, through the use of a mysterious box shown up on his doorstep, containing cassettes. Each side of these tapes is intended for one of 13 people who contributed to her suicide in some way or form. Most haunting, I think, was their effect on her life, her decision to take her life, and the concept that people are so interlinked, whether we want to be or not. Of course, one of the sides of this tape is meant for Clay, who cannot imagine how he contributed to the suicide of a girl he was so fond of. Yes, I cried. Yes, I thought about this book for so long after. Dark, honest, raw, emotional. It was beautiful.
10. The Amber Spyglass [Philip Pullman]
I read the His Dark Materials series in middle school, and this one, the final of the series, stuck out most prominently. Don’t get me wrong – the whole series is fascinating, fantastic, well-crafted and well developed. What most makes this stick out in my mind, I think, is the ending, and the travel to the world of the dead. Both Lyra and Will change so indefinitely, so indescribably, and the ending tugged every string of my heart. Such an incredible tale most certainly sticks with me – the characters, those alive and dead, those who sacrificed and antagonized. Beautiful.
11. The Lovely Bones [Alice Sebold]
Within the third chapter, I believe, I was bawling. I remember talking to Angie while attempting to read this and encountering moments where I cried so hard I couldn’t see anything. I’m such a sucker for emotional aspects of stories. I cried when she told the story of being raped and murdered and I bawled through the aftermath of her family and their attempts to cope. Everything about this book is just DEVASTATING. Of course there is no REAL happy ending – the dirty deed is done and you know from the start. Haunting is an appropriate term for this. I can’t imagine how this wouldn’t stick with anyone after reading.
12. Elsewhere [Gabrielle Zevin]
I wasn’t entirely sure of what I was getting into when I read this book. I know Boo liked the book and it sounded appealing. I didn’t expect to ravish the book the way I did, though. Trucking through books is nothing out of the ordinary for me, but to ravish a book isn’t super common for me. To absolutely plow through it, eat it up, and hold it to myself. Elsewhere tells of a most fascinating after life – animals can talk, people are employed and, most curious, you age backwards from the age of your death, all the way back to infancy, when you are sent down the river, to be reborn. And, my goodness. I cried, so very much. It was beautiful! Told in simplistic writing, it was sweet, it was tender, and most of all, it was raw. And yeah, sort of depressing.
13. The Realm of Possibility [David Levithan]
This is not quite my favorite Levithan book, for my favorite is his collaboration with Rachel Cohn, Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlits. However, this one does resonate far more strongly within me. This is a snapshot of the lives of numerous friends and acquaintances and how they are all interlinked, despite some who may have nothing to do with each other. Told through prose and free-form, poetry, song, etc, each character is unique, each character has a story. It was… a fabulous read. (P.S: I totally recommend his book, Boy Meets Boy, if you aren’t squeamish about boy love/anti-homosexuals. The book is not detailed in anything, but it tells a BEAUTIFUL story for a BEAUTIFUL world, where the football quarterback is also the head cheerleader, where gay hate is almost nonexistent and dance parties strike up in the self-help section of the book stores. It’s beautiful and hopeful.)
14. The Ruby Oliver Series [E. Lockhart]
I know, I know! Another cop out! But again, I cannot choose only one from this series. Lockhart changed my writing in so many ways. She writes a spunky, leper-slut who tries to do the right thing but screws up or gives into selfishness. Roo’s story is real – you don’t always get the boy, your feelings aren’t always reciprocated, and sometimes, high school – your friends included – really suck. Like I said, she changed a lot of my writing, my thinking, my development. Between Lockhart and the aforementioned Dessen, my writing has been greatly influenced.
15. Junebug [Ashley Poston]
What’s that? You’ve never heard of this one? Of course you haven’t! Written by a now-very dear friend of mine, this story is going to go places. Junebug tells the story of Junie Baltimore, who winds up running into her past by running into her recent past. Easily relatable, Junie has insecurities like any other girl, fears, inadequacy issues, etc. but her voice is so strong that, even though she is so like any of us, she is so very unique. Besides, I am a sucker for the story of two friends who SO belong together. I remember when I first started reading this – I was anxious, so anxious, to finish it and to find out how everything worked out. Poston brilliantly leaves the reader wondering if there will be a happy ending and if the happy ending is actually the right one. More so than many books I’ve read, I have honestly found myself thinking of Junie and Rob and Caspian and Mags, wondering what they’re all up to, how their lives have worked out. <3 Eghads. I suppose being friends with the author is a possible reason it sticks with me, but, really, I consider our friendship a benefit of this read.
This Is How I Spend My Nights
I'm not actually a big fan of television and movies. Rather, I suppose I should rephrase this. While I may be a fan, I don't actually get around to watching many. When it comes to television, the only two shows I NEVER miss are Supernatural and The Vampire Diaries. Monday nights on CBS are the only thing I actually actively watch, though: The Big Bang Theory, How I Met Your Mother, Two and a Half Men, Accidentally On Purpose. Am I super gutted if I miss them? Not really. Like I said - I'm just not IN to them. Most of the time, I would much rather curl up with a book or a notebook. Oh, suuure, I have shows I've been interested in, but I just... never follow up on them. Like I said, I prefer to read or write, rather than spend an hour watching something.
No, it doesn't make a lot of sense to me, either.
In a way, I guess I can credit Tommy with the fact that I watch television at all lately? Now that I'm all caught up on Supernatural, I've decided to start Dexter. I'm honestly not even sure why, out of all my other options (Bones, Lost, Merlin, Doctor Who), I chose Dexter, but I did. The premise was certainly intriguing - a man who kills only the bad guys. Different, interesting, a way of twisting the bad into the good, or at least sympathizing the terrible deeds of a murder. Really, the whole show wouldn't be so bad for me, if I wasn't such a squeamish person.
The reason I don't watch horror movies is not because I'm easily frightened (though, I will allow that I am a highly skittish person), because, let's face it. Today's horror movies aren't horrifying. Typically, you have a cliche plot filled with excessive gore. And by excessive, I mean, over-the-top, unnecessary. Rather than tell a story, engage in actual horror, play with emotions and psychological, they just make a gore-fest. And, no matter how many times I remind myself it's not real, it's fake, it's not even gross, my stomach still churns and I still get emotional.
Yes. I get emotional. This is actually something I've not admitted to many people, but beyond the general queasiness, the gag in my throat, the way my stomach churns, beyond all that, I also cannot take gore because I find myself hysterical, irrational, and somehow, in tears. Cannibalism always turned my stomach, but along with that, it also made my heart hurt, my head hurt, confused and conflicted me. Ergh. Deterring from this topic, as it's off tangent and making me queasy and conflicted... >.<
So, why is a girl who hates gore watching a show that is centered around murders?
I have NO clue.
In a way, it's not masochism, obviously, but maybe a concept of facing my fears? Samia was watching and she kept telling me over and over not to watch it, but she herself wound up getting into the show. Despite the nature of the show being one I may not typically stomach, it seems intriguing. Already, after watching only the pilot, I wanted to watch more. While it's not comparable in "gore", Supernatural even managed to turn my stomach many times, and I am incredibly fond of that. It's probably the fact that Tommy said the characters are good really tipped the scale for me.
I'm a sucker for good characterization.
And thus, I am probably going to try to truck it through four seasons of Dexter, Lord help me. Regina has tweeted about the show lately, and somehow, I suppose, that's managed to excite me about the show? We'll see how this all goes over.
Wish me luck!
- Lady Ashlie
No, it doesn't make a lot of sense to me, either.
In a way, I guess I can credit Tommy with the fact that I watch television at all lately? Now that I'm all caught up on Supernatural, I've decided to start Dexter. I'm honestly not even sure why, out of all my other options (Bones, Lost, Merlin, Doctor Who), I chose Dexter, but I did. The premise was certainly intriguing - a man who kills only the bad guys. Different, interesting, a way of twisting the bad into the good, or at least sympathizing the terrible deeds of a murder. Really, the whole show wouldn't be so bad for me, if I wasn't such a squeamish person.
The reason I don't watch horror movies is not because I'm easily frightened (though, I will allow that I am a highly skittish person), because, let's face it. Today's horror movies aren't horrifying. Typically, you have a cliche plot filled with excessive gore. And by excessive, I mean, over-the-top, unnecessary. Rather than tell a story, engage in actual horror, play with emotions and psychological, they just make a gore-fest. And, no matter how many times I remind myself it's not real, it's fake, it's not even gross, my stomach still churns and I still get emotional.
Yes. I get emotional. This is actually something I've not admitted to many people, but beyond the general queasiness, the gag in my throat, the way my stomach churns, beyond all that, I also cannot take gore because I find myself hysterical, irrational, and somehow, in tears. Cannibalism always turned my stomach, but along with that, it also made my heart hurt, my head hurt, confused and conflicted me. Ergh. Deterring from this topic, as it's off tangent and making me queasy and conflicted... >.<
So, why is a girl who hates gore watching a show that is centered around murders?
I have NO clue.
In a way, it's not masochism, obviously, but maybe a concept of facing my fears? Samia was watching and she kept telling me over and over not to watch it, but she herself wound up getting into the show. Despite the nature of the show being one I may not typically stomach, it seems intriguing. Already, after watching only the pilot, I wanted to watch more. While it's not comparable in "gore", Supernatural even managed to turn my stomach many times, and I am incredibly fond of that. It's probably the fact that Tommy said the characters are good really tipped the scale for me.
I'm a sucker for good characterization.
And thus, I am probably going to try to truck it through four seasons of Dexter, Lord help me. Regina has tweeted about the show lately, and somehow, I suppose, that's managed to excite me about the show? We'll see how this all goes over.
Wish me luck!
- Lady Ashlie
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