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?
