Day 4: What's the last book you flung across the room?
Are you seriously asking me if I've ever...
....
Come on, guys, I thought you were paying attention. You could at least pretend. I mentioned in my first post of the challenge, in which confessions were made blogosphere-wide, I can't do that. Like, if I seriously went to try and fling a book I'd find myself throwing it out of my left hand and the book would end up NOT on the other side of the room but in my right hand. A puzzle for the physics professors surely, but it simply can't be done. I cannot commit such an act against a piece of literature.
And are you forgetting I've already broken two kindles? Do you want my mother to kill me for the demolishing of a third which is actually hers and I'm borrowing?
Half of the books I read are e-books. But the other half? You see how worked up and bothered I get over covers, and you want me to purposely damage one?
So no. I've never flung a book across the room (just WHAT WHY?). But that isn't to say I've never experienced the hatefire and rage that must accompany such destructive behavior. I mean, I'm an emotional person. Do you think I don't know what it is to feel helpless rage? Right now I'm imagining your silence, because you should be cluing into the fact that rage isn't outside of my realm of normal behavior.
There is... one book I feel... compelled to mention. A book that has left me so uncontrollably enraged and so helpless against the catastrophic events played out in the book that I distinctly remember going down to get a glass of cooling, soothing water when a spider had the balls to go near me. I walked out of that kitchen feeling only a little mollified and slightly empowered by the stain its little body left on my floor.
I am not, generally speaking, a very scary young woman. I can be, but I'm often not. But this book. Oh, THIS BOOK. I know I terrified people.
Part of what infuriates me so bad about Unspoken by Sarah Rees Brennan is the fact that I fucking love this book. With a kind of violence and twistedness that has made this a very long-spanning obsession. This love should not be when you consider how it brutally massacres your emotions. And I hate that I love it and the power Sarah has.
Regardless, I want to string Sarah Rees Brennan up by her toes, only after soaking her in raw meat, and wait for the werewolves to get her.
TODAY'S CHALLENGE:
inspires much less violence and questionable behavior.
Day 5: Recommend a tearjerker.
Surprisingly, tearjerkers are my favorite kind of books. Or one of. Because they can be found in any number of genres, and, frankly, if it's not OVERWHELMING you to the point of sobbing from a hiccuping heart, how can you really be sure it truly touched you?
I know the challenge says recommend a tearjerker, but when has it ever been in me to list just the implied one? So.
Jellicoe Road by Melina Marchetta and The Sky Is Everywhere by Jandy Nelson are the reigning champions when it comes to tearjerkers. Not only was there crying and sobbing involved, but my heart felt like it had been hit by a truck. And then you know how when you get a stomach bug and you're puking up your guts and begging for it to be over, and you know it won't be over and it'll only be a few more minutes before you're at it again, before it starts up from your belly up to your throat again?
That's what it is to read these books. You're practically choking on your own tears and you can barely swallow and you're mentally begging whatever deity it is you're loyal to to please make it stop, make these horrible body functions, those horrible jagged noises, that horrible pain in your heart to stop. Because it's too much for you to take, not just these characters and their story but the idea that there are people out there who go through the exact same thing, that the world can be that heartless and unbearable. And then you're crying all over again when you see these characters triumph against that grief, wrestle it into a box where it can't torment them as frequently and they can live.
That's the shit I'm down for, you guys.
The only Sarah Ockler book I've ever deeply loved and the only Gayle Forman series I've ever read. They both write impeccable tragic beauty with a hint of hope.
Both so unexpected and underestimated. And how I love them. God, I don't even have all the words. Just read them, please.
I think the main point of sadness for these two is the bitter reality of the lives the characters' lead and memories past. Things have happened to them that no one should have to recover from.
Poignancy and bittersweetness. Typically, these are my enemies because they leave me feeling dissatisfied. These two books are the only ones I can safely say didn't leave me in that state. They filled me and hurt me all at once.
Irrevocable mistakes are made and life happens for the characters afterward, and you wonder how you would feel if things were different. If someone had done something differently. Would you be more or less satisfied? I draw tears from both of them because certain characters have left the respective world of each, they will only be remembered by a small few and there's a sort of injustice to that when you think on how extraordinary each person in both books are. There're obviously tons of points where it's impossible to be anything other than sad, maybe even to the point of tears, but for me, I cry because they're over and so are the people in them.
We've had the sad and the mad, here's hoping we'll get some happy in the challenges to come. Hell, I was getting emotional by the end, and gazing fondly at the works who moved me to love reading deeper than I ever expected that fateful day when a twelve-year-old me had a teen book nearly shoved down my throat by my equally booksessed mother. Who'd've thunk that I could ever get this mad and this sad over something that isn't really real?
Something I've learned though is that reading a book is something you really do so why can't the story they carry be just as real? They always are, when you feel it this way. What about you? When's the last time you've ever felt emotionally...imbalanced over a book? Which one was it?
Oh, God, you guys. Today's challenge in April's 15 Day Book Blogger Challenge is making me into such a freak. Like, I do not even know how to proceed right now.
TODAY’S CHALLENGE:
Day 3: Who are your blogging BFFs?
You know that kid in the movies, the one who thinks everyone is their friend and they're actually laughing behind that kid's back? And then that kid finds out about it and it makes you feel like crap when you watch it? I'm feeling that kid's anxiety right now. I seriously don't want to be that girl who calls out names, and then have those people step back and think, "Really? She thinks we're friends?"
The thing is, I'm better at socializing with strangers than I am with maintaining friendships. I would love to be on Twitter every day talking to peeps I consider friends, but that isn't the reality. I don't know these people inside-out, but I've talked with them enough, they've become fixtures enough in my blogging life that I think I can safely call them friends. They were the first people I thought of at this question.
So, please, if I'm not your friend, you're practically morally obligated not to tell me so XD. That would be embarrassing.
I don't know how I started following Heidi from Bunbury in the Stacks, I don't remember who commented on who's blog first. I remembered following her for a while and enjoying what she had to say, even if we didn't always agree with each other's opinions. That's the beauty of our relationship when it comes to each other's reading tastes: we can sit and read each other's reactions and converse about them, respect and appreciate them even if we're opposed on a book. Though, it's always awesome when we fangirl over the same book. Which brings me to Scarlet by A. C. Gaughen. I believe that's what cemented my love of her blog, and it made me geek out (still does) that she cited me as one of the reviews for the book to pay attention to.
As for Mandee from Vegan YA Nerds, I would always do my best to catch her reviews. If you've never seen them, they're super unique, especially with the cat pictures featuring the books in them. But what I made sure never to miss were her book haul vlogs. The fascination started with her Aussie accent and then just escalated when we began geeking out over the same books. Our friendship started with mutual commenting on and love for each other's vlogs.
But, more recently, the thing that's made me really feel like I can label them as friends is not only due to our rendezvous in New York for Book Expo America but also because we had such a marvelous time together. While I can't speak for them, I felt completely comfortable with both of them, talking about books and bloggers and blogging. Talking about aspects of our lives. Eating, geeking, walking, and hanging together. I guess I could be overestimating the fun we had, but I don't think so. The three of us clicked and I only hope we can get together soon (I did get to see Heidi fairly quickly after BEA, yay!).
Ladies who I met all around the same time. I don't quite remember how each of these friendships started but I remember the important stuff. Brodie, Sarah, and I all pretty much comment alike. We sound crazed, spasmodic, and cheerful. We'd make each other laugh with our comments, then we'd laugh once we brought our conversations to Twitter. They would threaten me if I didn't read Harry Potter, I'd send them stick figure me pictures with me doing something ridiculous to tell them I adore them. We have a whacky sense of humor that most people would O_O at. I miss them like crazy, and I wish I got to talk to them more.
With Sam, we typically comment on each other's blogs very frequently, and when you see someone around that often, it not only makes you feel warm inside but gives you someone familiar to talk to who enjoys a lot of the same things you do. We do have our difference in opinions, one of us usually loving a book more or less than the other, but we have quite a few mutual loves like Throne of Glass, Shadow and Bone, Unspoken *hisses*, Morganville, The Demon Trappers, The Assassin's Curse and I do believe I could go on. We've discussed so many books, and I look forward to talking with Sam every time. Speaking of The Assassin's Curse, which is not exactly an excellent segue but sufficient enough, Cait, Liz, and I love some of the same books as well.
I want to say I met Cait through Liz, who I would talk to a lot more when we were both still in high school (oh, the days when we didn't have to worry about college/uni, Liz). There were so many topics of conversation, especially because Liz and I were going through the same troubles and worries school-wise. And then there's the fact that we both simultaneously watched and loved The Legend of Korra as total Avatar fans. Cait and I started up with commenting as well, and developed much like how my friendship with Sam did. Cait is also one of the people who convinced me to read Jellicoe Road. That makes her a goddess if you didn't know.
Thanks for talking to me, guys, you made an impact.
And you? Who are your blogging friends? Am I one of them? Because that would be funny. In a good way. And probably cool.
In relation to books, you dirty-minded savages. As if we could go there right now. Get your mind off of Bradley James's luscious ass and join me away from the gutter so we can discuss a legitimate question relevant to blogging. You know, for the challenge.
TODAY’S CHALLENGE:
Day 2: What's your bedtime reading ritual?
Now there are MANY ways in which bedtime can play out for me. It really does depend on the day.
I have a part-time job in a women's clothing store, so there are days during the week in which I get paid to stay and help close up the store. On those nights I can get home from anywhere between 10pm and 11:30pm. And what mostly happens on those nights, after trudging on home with the exhaustion of a six to eight and a half hour day on my back, I get inside and look for any packages addressed to me. (At least a few times a week, I will have ordered something or have gotten something from the pubs and so I make sure I stay lucid enough for that.)
If nothing is waiting for me, I approach my living room couch and spill bonelessly onto it. From there one of three things can happen: 1) I completely black out, grubby clothes and deteriorating makeup still on, which EWWW 2) I flip onto my back and turn on the tv, oftentimes to netflix so I can pretend to watch Merlin or 3) I take out my tablet or my kindle and pretend to myself that I'm actually going to read. One would think that after the numerous accidents I've had with my technology, the latter wouldn't really be an option, but I'm adept at denial and am stubborn about what I can handle. Needless to say, I already feel like shit in the morning when I find my kindle somewhere across the floor. Luckily, I have carpeting.
If I'm NOT closing and am home relatively early, I go home to spend a few hours on the internet. That could mean anything from catching up on celeb gossip to scrolling through my horoscope or Tumblr to stalking Tweeps and YouTubers to reading bookish news to blogging. I wasn't kidding yesterday when I said I lead quite a pathetic life. Like if you never thought that there was someone this pitiful in life, too bad because I AM that person. Sorry to disappoint you, but some people ARE boring.
If the night's still young, I will step out of my cave and beg, nag, and whine until my mother agrees to watch a few episodes of #Merlin with me. She really just feigns reluctance and just enjoys seeing me reduced to the state of a two-year-old with tantrum issues; she's a sick woman. Don't ever let me let you meet her.
Once our eyes are gritty and blurry from watching too long, she escapes back to her bedroom and if I'm too lazy, which I usually am, I remain on the couch and attempt to read something. But generally it ends up that it's lights out for me.
So, in other words, I barely get any reading done at night.
And you? You think you can do better? What do YOU do at night... for the purposes of reading?
What better way to start things off this week than with an impromptu blogger challenge? I can’t even remember the last time I’ve done one of these. But I’m looking for ways to revamp the content around here at Paranormal Indulgence, and to do that I need get in touch with my frenemy Inspiration. As Nora Roberts once said, “The muse, she’s a fickle bitch. Forget the muse.” It’s time I took some ACTION.
I can’t think of a more perfect challenge for my purposes than April’s 15 Day Book Blogger Challenge, which I think will help with that thinking outside of the box issue I’m having lately. Hell, with school out, I think it’ll help me think PERIOD EXCLAMATION POINT.
The challenges we will face will be plentiful and distressing (remember, I’ll be thinking) and I do so at my own peril (and gladly), and they are as follows:
TODAY’S CHALLENGE:
Day 1: Make 15 book related confessions.
You’d think this wouldn’t be too hard for me, because though I may not actually do everything on my lists, I am a natural-born listmaker—it gives me the illusion that I’m ambitious—but the challenge is actually doing fifteen.
Let’s seen if I can HANDLE this. Piece of cake, piece of pie (that you can’t have).
1. I’m such a prick. When I walk into a book store or I’m pursuing through Amazon, I don’t sit there and read the synopsis or pay attention to who wrote the book. I look at the cover. And for a good five minutes I do nothing else. And if I’ve never heard of it before, that cover will be the sole reason I buy a book. Or don’t. Whoever said “don’t judge a book by it’s cover” deserves the finger, because now I have all these doubts about my abilities to thrive in human society. Yep, I’m blaming the clichés.
2. I’m a cover matcher. As in I have astonishingly latent OCD tendencies when it comes to the books in my possession. I know you’re not supposed to care about what the covers look like, how they change because it’s what’s inside that counts and blah buh-blah BLAH just NO. How ANYONE could fathom piecing together their collection with mismatched cover designs, unrelated book spines, differing heights, and paperbacks in a mostly hardback presentation or vice versa I WILL NEVER UNDERSAND. It gives me eyespasmitus just THINKING about it.
3. I can be prey to the hype. If I hear about a book and how AMAZING a book is at the start of each of my days, I’d like to think it’s not my fault that I get tossed into the craze. In fact, it’s almost like a sickening form of conditioning. For shame to all of you. I’m talking about when you’re reading a book and it’s good, but in the back of your mind there’s this thready voice that sounds suspiciously like your own without the benefit of a glass of water for a few days that’s saying things like “meh, it could be better” or “okay, it’s cool but not THAT cool” and you just kind of ignore it and keep going and feel totally in love with the book. Then, a couple months later you can barely recall why you were so obsessed (which is why I generally wait a while before I actually write my review to a popular book to make sure my reaction is genuine or give myself room for a change of heart). Yeah, if you’ve never experienced that, then feel free to call for help. For yourself, not me, because I’m damned if I’ll let you cart me off to a saloon for loons.
4. I’ve never finished Harry Potter or the Percy Jackson series. You ever read those bios or those little stories about how people started blogging or why they love reading so much? And do you notice how often they pinpoint Harry Potter as the cause? The feeling I get after reading that is reminiscent of the emotional aftermath of those abused animal commercials where they show the beat-up adorable puppy and expect you to blow your nose with your sleeve—a strange mixture of guilt, remorse, and a craving for chocolate. Any kind STAT.
5. I have a tendency of making promises to myself that I don’t keep. Mostly this pertains to book-to-movie adaptions. When I tell you I swore up and down and upside down that I was going to read Hunger Games before the movie came out, it was so serious my family even bought me the box set for Christmas. I kid you not: it’s still in my bookshelf. Packaging wrap undone, but nonetheless unread. This has happened with Percy Jackson, The Perks of Being a Wallflower, The Notebook, The Host, The Hobbit (reread), Speak, Howl’s Moving Castle, hell, man, the list could go on! Sometimes it’s a case of the movie ruining me, or I just forget to do it and watch the movie anyway and then don’t have the drive to go onto the book (except for The Host, I actually read it after the movie). It’s really quite a happy thing that I’ve already read Divergent, Vampire Academy, and Mortal Instruments, because knowing me…. *shudders*
6. I’m terrible with bookish upkeep. A ninety-nine cent eBook deal, an up-and-coming title on NG or Edelweiss, jewels in the Amazon bargain bin, I can amass books all day long if my bank account would let me. I seriously have about 1.5 on the restraint meter, on good days. It’s a sickening addiction that keeps my TBR pile overflowing. So what follows is guilt (which can sometimes act as a good motivator even without the discipline), overpacked bookshelves, and a dying kindle (or two). Now ask me if I’ve learned my lesson. Ask me.
7. I’ve never actually thrown a book across the room. I just say that I’ve done it or do. But in all honestly my book lover’s heart would blacken, shrivel, and die. Death to my soul.
8. I secretly—and safely behind my computer screen—sneer at positive reviews to books I hate. Like, I’m talking mean and cranky monologuing in my head. Pointing out grammatical errors just to give myself something to poke at besides the content. Snickering over every adoring comment. And a well-timed “WTF WHAT?!” or several while going through each sentence. I can’t help it, I come from sarcastic, cynical stock.
9. I don’t reread very many books. I have so many great loves in fiction, but I don’t need to read them again to love them more. Just having them there with me does that. I can’t often make myself sit down and read them over again. A lot of the time those loves are powerfully emotional and almost physically exhausting, and others are just very time-consuming, and I’d rather use that time to discover other works. Oftentimes, it’s a series I go back and SKIM over, looking for favorite parts or reliving best moments. But I don’t think I’ve ever reread a book, start to finish. Seriously. Ever.
10. I read more pre-released books then backlog ones. Which is unfortunate because there are so many that I know I would love. I’ve been making more of an effort these days, but I enjoy reading books that are due out two months from now for some reason. I think maybe there’s something to that anticipation that layers over it and adds more favor to the book. And certainly has nothing to do with feeling powerful reading a book that early before the mainstream readers…
11. When I exhaust all methods of occupation for the mind, like reading until dialogue comes spilling out my ears or watching Merlin until I can’t anymore, I will go to my computer and browse Tumblr for the reaction gifs I use in my reviews. I start with Merlin ones and then work my way up to miscellaneous, just to get a laugh and possibly meditate on my next reaction post. ‘Tis a sad life I lead, my friends, I am aware.
12. I’ve cheated on my goodreads book challenge before. It may seem like I’m reaching now that we’re heading towards the big 15, but I seriously feel like confessing this. Last year, when I realized in December that there was a good chance I wasn’t going to make it, I edited the number a little bit. Only a little. And it turns out that I ended up finishing the year far past even my original goal. Now the question is, do I have to cheat to feel motivated? Somebody provide an eval, please. Much appreciated.
13. I am a sucker for Nora Roberts. I bring this up because people seem to love reducing the worth of her books to something that belongs in your grandmother’s handbag—I think I’ve actually heard that before—but I can assure you, my own grandmother would swat me across the back of the head if I gave any of Nora’s books to her for reading. Her books are filled with my favorite kind of romance: practical romance. The kind where, yes, there are sweet or heart-achingly romantic moments, but that mostly center on my personal relationship ideal: partnership. A concept that, when it’s built upon and layered over and you can actually see in each scene, I find to be the most romantic of all.
14. When I’m going through a reading funk, I tend to read long, sometimes still on-going series. It helps me get invested in a bunch of characters and their stories, which then revives my interest in reading again. As evidenced by the fact that the entire month of this past February is FILLED TO THE BRIM with In Death by J.D. Robb titles, every single one up to date. And half of march shows all of the most recent to date Lords of the Underworld titles. Why December of 2011 has all of Morganville in there. I go through this phase of addiction that you would be wise to steer clear of.
15. I find that vlogging tends to be the most fun thing I can do when it comes my blog. I like recording and showing myself—my genuine self and how I react to books—to everyone. It makes me feel happy and excited and keeps me refreshed. Hauling books is my favorite thing to do because then I have SO MUCH to talk to you guys about, as if we’re having a one-on-one. I like (most of the time) putting in the time to edit the vlogs and put in animations and text and commentary. If you’ve never tried it, give it a shot. I’m a pathetic Youtube addict and am always looking for more people to watch :D
Wowzer, I actually finished the list. Once I got to eleven I was a little worried I’d run out of THINGS. But, I think this sufficiently covers the confessions part.
What about you guys? Friends? What’re some things you have to confess about yourself?
If you’re participating in April’s challenge, feel free to link to your post. Best believe I want to see all of them.
