Just past the midpoint of the year, I have read 161 books -- approximately 85% of them new reads.
My reading peaked in March, dropping off in the last couple of months. Why is this? Busier at work, busier with writing, and -- now that the weather is nicer -- I'm actually trying to get outside more. Also, I've begun to experience a bit of burnout. I don't want to read constantly as much as I did before. Sometimes, I really do just want to watch TV.
Just finished Bloodlust by Michelle Rowen -- awesome contiuation to the Nightshade series. I've got a literary crush on Declan.
Up next...probably Hammered by Kevin Hearne. I love the voice of those books. Urban fantasy can often get really, really dark -- and my work-in-progress is certainly no exception. But Hearne's books are both action-packed and incredibly funny. One of my favorite characters is Oberon, the protagonist's...dog. Definitely something to check out if you're looking for something a little different in your urban fantasy.
Recent interesting find: Megan Hart. Her books are considered romance/erotic, but I don't think that quite fits. They are erotic, and some are romantic, but they're not ROMANCES, per say...at least not all of them. They're more character-driven than traditional romance, and certainly more than most erotic fiction. They're emotional, and can be quite devistating at times. I was sobbing when I finished Broken about a week or so ago. Definitely something different, impossible to catagorize. Be warned: some of her books can be difficult reads. (I've read three so far, and two definitely meet that standard.)
And my goal for the remainder of the year: I need to check out some new and different stuff altogether. I still love urban fantasy, but I'm getting harder and harder to impress. I spent much of 2011 reading romance, and while it's enjoyable, and I've found some romances I really, really like...it's not really my genre. Overall, I tend to like books with romance in them more than romance books. I'll probably continue reading romances, but the genre will never own me the way urban fantasy does. It's also probably not something I'd write myself. (And if I did, it would involve a lot of blood and death and violence. I'm really not a very romantic person.)
Lastly...how the hell is it July already? I need a vacation. In the words of Simon and Garfunkle, "Slow down, you're moving too fast; you've got to make the morning last." Apply that to a year! (Though, I'll admit, this is not the year I'd really want to last, anyway.)
Showing posts with label reading. Show all posts
Showing posts with label reading. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Friday, March 4, 2011
February: A Month in Review
February was...well, February was a crazy month. I didn't post much, because I was crazy busy with Sex Week for a big chunk of it (which was awesome, by the way). And then afterwards...well, afterwards, I pretty much just wanted to crawl into bed and sleep for a month. I swear, my sleep rhythms are still recovering.
I read 30 books in February. How the hell did I manage to read 30 books in 28 days, you ask? Three things: 1) I read really, really fast, 2) I don't watch much TV, and 3) I have a very limited social life. The latter is by choice, I swear. I have friends, and I have opportunities to go out. But...well, I think the best way to describe myself is as an introvert who was born an extrovert. I was the kid who would walk up to anyone and everyone and start a conversation. The "don't talk to strangers" conversation must have been a nightmare for my parents. Then I got into school and spent the next 10 or so years of my life being ostracized by my peers. I moved around quite a bit growing up. I went to three different middle schools, and then high school in yet another state. Still, I was always the "weird" kid, and--after realizing that no amount of wishful thinking on my part was going to change it--I embraced it. I eventually made some friends, and spent four years of high school in the same place, but my deep-seeded mistrust of humanity remains. I can talk to people. I'm told I come off as confident, outgoing, and assertive. But when I get off of work at the end of the day, I'd often much rather curl up with my Kindle than deal with other people. And I've been feeling particularly reclusive this month.
That said, February hasn't been a bad month for me. I got hired for a new job, which I am greatly looking forward to. It'll move me into a different field--training--and allow me more opportunities for traveling. I start on March 14, and I've got a crapload of stuff to do before then. Since I'll be working with people more, I think I need to go out and buy grown-up clothes. Since I'll be standing up in front of a class all day, I think I'll need to buy some sensible shoes. (All my dress shoes have heels, and I cannot stand in those things for extended periods of time. I know. I've tried.) I know I have some grown-up clothes somewhere (a few, at least), so I need to clean out my closet to see what I have and what I should throw away. Within the next week, I'm heading for the dentist and the veterinarian--though not at the same time, and not for the same reason. I need to get a haircut. And dammit, tomorrow I'm going to eat ice cream...and see a movie!
Anyway...I digress. This blog is, primarily, about writing and reading. And as you can tell, it's been a busy month.
Book series that I just discovered (and wondered why I was so late to the party): The Downside Ghosts series by Stacia Kane. Oh my God. These books are friggin awesome. I've heard the description "dark urban fantasy" used before, and I didn't know what it meant exactly...until I read these books. Urban fantasy is not a light genre anyway, but these books make many of the other urban fantasies I've read look like children's cartoons in comparison. The heroine, Chess, is a drug addict trying to escape the demons of her past (namely being abused and molested by her foster families). The male lead, Terrible, is an enforcer for the drug dealer/pimp/mob boss who raised him. Their world is an unnerving, dystopic combination of Puritan New England and Poltergeist: 20-odd years earlier, ghosts invaded the world, angry and hungry and wanting nothing more than to feed on human life force. An athiestic church emerged and forced the ghosts into an underground city. Now, everyone knows the city is where you go when you die. There's no God, but there is an eternity of hunger trapped in an underground city. Most people think it sounds wonderful. Chess thinks it sounds like hell. I'm inclined to agree. All other religions have become obsolete, and there is only the Church. If you don't agree with them, don't follow their rules...well, let's just say they've resurrected stockades and public executions. Chess works as a debunker for the Church, investigating ghosts sightings and (hopefully) proving them false. (The Church doesn't much like real hauntings, since they have to pay the victims mucho dinero for failing to protect them from the ghosts.) The Church is the only place where she's felt accepted, yet she hides herself, knowing if her drug addiction is revealed, she'll be punished and exiled.
See? Bleak.
I was worried I wouldn't like the protagonist when I heard that she was a drug addict. Yet I found myself rooting for her more and more. Yes, Chess is an addict. She's often preoccupied with getting her next fix, and this addiction is often used against her by others (as blackmail fodder, mostly). She also lies constantly, usually to cover her own ass and hide said addiction. But there are reasons she's so incredibly fucked up. And she genuinely tries to do the right thing, even if she screws up as often as she succeeds. In spite of everything, she really does want to help people. What I loved about Chess and Terrible is that they're fighters. In spite of everything that's happened to them, in spite of the craptastic world around them, they fight--for themselves, each other, and for the world. They are beaten but not broken, and I love that about them.
These books were awesome, and I can't wait until book 4 (which, sadly, I think is not being released until September, and I can't even find comfirmation of that). They are dark, and they definitely fall into that "morally ambiguous" area some people hate. But if that works for you, read them now!
Old friends who came to visit: Jeaniene Frost's This Side of the Grave came out this month. The Night Huntress (Cat/Bones) series was one of the first urban fantasies I read, and I was instantly hooked. Five books into the series, the dynamic between Cat and Bones feels a bit different than it did in Halfway to the Grave, as well it should: it's been seven years since they met, and Cat has matured a lot. One of the things I love about these books is that she didn't stop the story at their "happily ever after." Instead, Frost portrays a couple in a committed, long-term relationship--one that still has ups and downs. Things are a bit more stable for them than they were in the last book, Destined for an Early Grave. They're an "old married couple" now. Yet they're still hot. They still have the kind of sex that makes me both titillated and jealous. (Kelley Armstrong also does a fantastic job with this in her Women of the Otherworld series, especially with Elena and Clay.)
The action is not as intense here as it has been in some of the previous installments, but it was also the most emotional of the series for me in a lot of ways. It felt like a transitional book. In the last book, Cat finally decided to leave her half-human status behind for good and convert into a vampire; in this book, she's still struggling to adjust to her newfound abilities and lifestyle. But in a symbolic way, it felt like this book was where Cat said goodbye to her human life, and the things that tied her to it, for good.
But it was also, oddly enough, probably the funniest of the series. The side characters, especially, had me in stitches. Vlad was awesome, and now that I've heard Frost is going to do a spinoff starring him, I can't wait. Meanwhile, another old favorite who I've been wondering about made an appearance: Timmie, Cat's college neighbor and friend. (And thank goodness, too! I've been waiting for him to show up again for four books now!)
So while I'm a little sad to say goodbye to half-human Cat, not-quite-dead vampire Cat seems like she'll have some interesting adventures in the future. And Bones is...Bones. I love him. I love the series. And I'll be anxiously awaiting book 6.
And now, it's March. The winter is almost over, spring is creeping in, and I couldn't be happier.
I read 30 books in February. How the hell did I manage to read 30 books in 28 days, you ask? Three things: 1) I read really, really fast, 2) I don't watch much TV, and 3) I have a very limited social life. The latter is by choice, I swear. I have friends, and I have opportunities to go out. But...well, I think the best way to describe myself is as an introvert who was born an extrovert. I was the kid who would walk up to anyone and everyone and start a conversation. The "don't talk to strangers" conversation must have been a nightmare for my parents. Then I got into school and spent the next 10 or so years of my life being ostracized by my peers. I moved around quite a bit growing up. I went to three different middle schools, and then high school in yet another state. Still, I was always the "weird" kid, and--after realizing that no amount of wishful thinking on my part was going to change it--I embraced it. I eventually made some friends, and spent four years of high school in the same place, but my deep-seeded mistrust of humanity remains. I can talk to people. I'm told I come off as confident, outgoing, and assertive. But when I get off of work at the end of the day, I'd often much rather curl up with my Kindle than deal with other people. And I've been feeling particularly reclusive this month.
That said, February hasn't been a bad month for me. I got hired for a new job, which I am greatly looking forward to. It'll move me into a different field--training--and allow me more opportunities for traveling. I start on March 14, and I've got a crapload of stuff to do before then. Since I'll be working with people more, I think I need to go out and buy grown-up clothes. Since I'll be standing up in front of a class all day, I think I'll need to buy some sensible shoes. (All my dress shoes have heels, and I cannot stand in those things for extended periods of time. I know. I've tried.) I know I have some grown-up clothes somewhere (a few, at least), so I need to clean out my closet to see what I have and what I should throw away. Within the next week, I'm heading for the dentist and the veterinarian--though not at the same time, and not for the same reason. I need to get a haircut. And dammit, tomorrow I'm going to eat ice cream...and see a movie!
Anyway...I digress. This blog is, primarily, about writing and reading. And as you can tell, it's been a busy month.
See? Bleak.
I was worried I wouldn't like the protagonist when I heard that she was a drug addict. Yet I found myself rooting for her more and more. Yes, Chess is an addict. She's often preoccupied with getting her next fix, and this addiction is often used against her by others (as blackmail fodder, mostly). She also lies constantly, usually to cover her own ass and hide said addiction. But there are reasons she's so incredibly fucked up. And she genuinely tries to do the right thing, even if she screws up as often as she succeeds. In spite of everything, she really does want to help people. What I loved about Chess and Terrible is that they're fighters. In spite of everything that's happened to them, in spite of the craptastic world around them, they fight--for themselves, each other, and for the world. They are beaten but not broken, and I love that about them.
These books were awesome, and I can't wait until book 4 (which, sadly, I think is not being released until September, and I can't even find comfirmation of that). They are dark, and they definitely fall into that "morally ambiguous" area some people hate. But if that works for you, read them now!
The action is not as intense here as it has been in some of the previous installments, but it was also the most emotional of the series for me in a lot of ways. It felt like a transitional book. In the last book, Cat finally decided to leave her half-human status behind for good and convert into a vampire; in this book, she's still struggling to adjust to her newfound abilities and lifestyle. But in a symbolic way, it felt like this book was where Cat said goodbye to her human life, and the things that tied her to it, for good.
But it was also, oddly enough, probably the funniest of the series. The side characters, especially, had me in stitches. Vlad was awesome, and now that I've heard Frost is going to do a spinoff starring him, I can't wait. Meanwhile, another old favorite who I've been wondering about made an appearance: Timmie, Cat's college neighbor and friend. (And thank goodness, too! I've been waiting for him to show up again for four books now!)
So while I'm a little sad to say goodbye to half-human Cat, not-quite-dead vampire Cat seems like she'll have some interesting adventures in the future. And Bones is...Bones. I love him. I love the series. And I'll be anxiously awaiting book 6.
And now, it's March. The winter is almost over, spring is creeping in, and I couldn't be happier.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Anatomy of a Sex Scene, Part 1: The Setup
Last week, I posted an article for CC2K's Sex Week arguing that romance novels are often used for the same type of sexual release in women that pornography is used for in men. In preparation for that article--and honestly, also because it was fun--I read a lot of romances. Seriously. Take a look at the books I've read since January 1; I'd say about 75% of them are romances--as in, they may have other factors (paranormal, usually, because this is me), but they're primarily romance. Of the rest, almost all of them have some kind of romantic subplot. Hell, I think the only book I've read in the past few months that didn't have a sex scene was Clockwork Angel, and that's only because it's YA!
So it makes sense that I've been thinking a lot about sex scenes, both as a reader and as a writer.
Within the romance world, sex scenes come in all shapes and sizes (whoa, bad pun). You have the Jane Austen-esque novels that don't show anything at all. (Did anyone even kiss in a Jane Austen novel? Much as I love Jane Austen, there's some definite sexual repression going on there.) You have the Nicholas Sparks-type novels where you might get a sex scene or two, but they're...tasteful. Discreet. Imagine the written equivalent of a PG-13 movie. It's enough that you know what's going on, but not enough to really be enticing. Then there are sex scenes that are quite graphic and descriptive. The level of descriptiveness can definitely vary a lot. I've been going a bit off the beaten path with my book selections these last few months, so I've read some sex scenes that have definitely pushed my own personal boundaries. But I've also realized that the boundaries between romance and erotica are becoming murkier all the time.
If we're sticking to non-erotica romance, and you wanted to rank, on a scale of 1-10, the hotness factor of sex scenes...J.R. Ward's Black Dagger Brotherhood series would be a 10. (And, just for the sake of honesty: yes, I am jonesing at the moment. Lover Unleashed, the ninth book in the series, will be released at the end of March. I'm psyched about this one, because for the first time in the series, it's the female character we've been following for several books, not the male.)
I love BDB. It would be so easy to dismiss these books as a guilty pleasure, because they're romances about vampire warriors and the women who love them, but the truth is Ward does her work extremely well. She's created this incredibly complex world with incredibly vivid characters. Whereas other paranormal romance series may only be loosely related to one another, BDB has an ongoing, overarching plot. Although the "main couple" is the focus of the book, side characters and plots are always integral to the story, especially as the series has developed and the world has grown.
Ward's sex scenes are incredibly hot. Yet they're all incredibly different, always an outgrowth of the characters being featured and their relationship. For example (spoilers ahead):
--In Lover Eternal, Rhage fears he'll never be able to really "give" himself to Mary because whenever he gets close to her, the beast that lurks within him awakens. (He's afraid he'll shape-shift into the beast and eat her. I'm sure there's something deeply Freudian about that.) So ultimately, Mary proposes he has himself chained to a bed so that she can see if she's able to take him without the beast appearing. Their relationship has been, up to this point, very loving and tender. Mary seems fairly inexperienced, and Rhage is quite protective of her. It's not surprising that she's kind of freaked out when she sees him chained to the bed (versus thinking it's kinda cool and kinky), but that she tries to tough through it...or that, when Rhage realizes how nervous she is, he kisses her and performs oral sex on her until she has orgasmed and is more comfortable.
On the other hand...
--In Lover Unbound, Vishous is definitely into S&M, as a dominant who very much gets off on control. In life, he's smart, cunning, and ruthless. When Jane enters his world, she's one of the few people who is able, and willing, to go toe-to-toe with him. When Vishous takes Jane back to his apartment and allows her to take him--becoming, for once, the submissive partner, it's an incredible moment. Yes, having Vishous bound and gagged is very kinky, but the important thing is that he's giving her control--something he had always clung to, prided himself in. He's giving himself to her. And though Jane's a little overwhelmed by his Dungeons R' Us setup at first, she quickly finds herself getting into the action.
End spoilers.
So there you go. Both of these involve someone being tied up. But they both evoke different reactions from the characters. (Afterwards, Mary indicates she doesn't want to repeat the experience, whereas Vishious and Jane are later shown much enjoying their games of dominance and submission.) And both scenes make perfect sense in the context of these books, and these relationships.
I could probably go through and describe sex scenes from each of the eight books, just from memory. They're all very different--who knew you could have sex so many different ways? But sex scenes in fiction aren't just about positions or fetishes. Instead, they're about characters and feelings--which is why I argued that romance novels are often more effective as sexual releases for women than porn. It's harder, if not impossible, for us to separate the sex from the feelings, and from that particular relationship, whatever it may be.
There is one somewhat graphic sex scene in my WIP. On my scale of hotness (a 1, just for the sake of argument, being Nicholas Sparks), it would probably be about a 6 or a 7. But as I'm going through my revisions, I'm not quite happy with it. It's tender and soft and kind of poignant...but that doesn't make sense in the context of these characters. These are two people who were crazily attracted to one another on first sight...but also hated one another. Their dynamic is hard and contentious and lustful--even moreso now that I'm doing revisions. Two people who don't like each other much (or like each other more than they'd want to admit) and don't trust each other might have sex. But they wouldn't have soft, sweet, "lovemaking" kind of sex. No! It'll be hard and rough. It might even be a bit violent. And it'll also be crazy hot. 6 or 7? I've got to crank that up to about an 8.5 or more!
But, as I said, it's all about the relationship. The type of sex fictional characters have should be, as in real life, an outgrowth of who these characters are. For my two, it makes sense for them to have hard, violent sex. In another story, with other characters, that might not work.
So it makes sense that I've been thinking a lot about sex scenes, both as a reader and as a writer.
Within the romance world, sex scenes come in all shapes and sizes (whoa, bad pun). You have the Jane Austen-esque novels that don't show anything at all. (Did anyone even kiss in a Jane Austen novel? Much as I love Jane Austen, there's some definite sexual repression going on there.) You have the Nicholas Sparks-type novels where you might get a sex scene or two, but they're...tasteful. Discreet. Imagine the written equivalent of a PG-13 movie. It's enough that you know what's going on, but not enough to really be enticing. Then there are sex scenes that are quite graphic and descriptive. The level of descriptiveness can definitely vary a lot. I've been going a bit off the beaten path with my book selections these last few months, so I've read some sex scenes that have definitely pushed my own personal boundaries. But I've also realized that the boundaries between romance and erotica are becoming murkier all the time.
I love BDB. It would be so easy to dismiss these books as a guilty pleasure, because they're romances about vampire warriors and the women who love them, but the truth is Ward does her work extremely well. She's created this incredibly complex world with incredibly vivid characters. Whereas other paranormal romance series may only be loosely related to one another, BDB has an ongoing, overarching plot. Although the "main couple" is the focus of the book, side characters and plots are always integral to the story, especially as the series has developed and the world has grown.
Ward's sex scenes are incredibly hot. Yet they're all incredibly different, always an outgrowth of the characters being featured and their relationship. For example (spoilers ahead):
--In Lover Eternal, Rhage fears he'll never be able to really "give" himself to Mary because whenever he gets close to her, the beast that lurks within him awakens. (He's afraid he'll shape-shift into the beast and eat her. I'm sure there's something deeply Freudian about that.) So ultimately, Mary proposes he has himself chained to a bed so that she can see if she's able to take him without the beast appearing. Their relationship has been, up to this point, very loving and tender. Mary seems fairly inexperienced, and Rhage is quite protective of her. It's not surprising that she's kind of freaked out when she sees him chained to the bed (versus thinking it's kinda cool and kinky), but that she tries to tough through it...or that, when Rhage realizes how nervous she is, he kisses her and performs oral sex on her until she has orgasmed and is more comfortable.
On the other hand...
--In Lover Unbound, Vishous is definitely into S&M, as a dominant who very much gets off on control. In life, he's smart, cunning, and ruthless. When Jane enters his world, she's one of the few people who is able, and willing, to go toe-to-toe with him. When Vishous takes Jane back to his apartment and allows her to take him--becoming, for once, the submissive partner, it's an incredible moment. Yes, having Vishous bound and gagged is very kinky, but the important thing is that he's giving her control--something he had always clung to, prided himself in. He's giving himself to her. And though Jane's a little overwhelmed by his Dungeons R' Us setup at first, she quickly finds herself getting into the action.
End spoilers.
So there you go. Both of these involve someone being tied up. But they both evoke different reactions from the characters. (Afterwards, Mary indicates she doesn't want to repeat the experience, whereas Vishious and Jane are later shown much enjoying their games of dominance and submission.) And both scenes make perfect sense in the context of these books, and these relationships.
I could probably go through and describe sex scenes from each of the eight books, just from memory. They're all very different--who knew you could have sex so many different ways? But sex scenes in fiction aren't just about positions or fetishes. Instead, they're about characters and feelings--which is why I argued that romance novels are often more effective as sexual releases for women than porn. It's harder, if not impossible, for us to separate the sex from the feelings, and from that particular relationship, whatever it may be.
There is one somewhat graphic sex scene in my WIP. On my scale of hotness (a 1, just for the sake of argument, being Nicholas Sparks), it would probably be about a 6 or a 7. But as I'm going through my revisions, I'm not quite happy with it. It's tender and soft and kind of poignant...but that doesn't make sense in the context of these characters. These are two people who were crazily attracted to one another on first sight...but also hated one another. Their dynamic is hard and contentious and lustful--even moreso now that I'm doing revisions. Two people who don't like each other much (or like each other more than they'd want to admit) and don't trust each other might have sex. But they wouldn't have soft, sweet, "lovemaking" kind of sex. No! It'll be hard and rough. It might even be a bit violent. And it'll also be crazy hot. 6 or 7? I've got to crank that up to about an 8.5 or more!
But, as I said, it's all about the relationship. The type of sex fictional characters have should be, as in real life, an outgrowth of who these characters are. For my two, it makes sense for them to have hard, violent sex. In another story, with other characters, that might not work.
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Happy Things
No doubt about it, I've had a bad week, as you might have guessed from my last few blog posts.
But I did some thinking. Did some crying. Did some writing. Tried to get a lot of bad juju out of my system--some of which had been lurking there for quite some time. I don't like to linger in unhappiness. I have too much to be grateful for, thankful for, ecstatic about, that I refuse to dwell in the darkness.
Yet we all have weeks like this, weeks when everything just seems dumped on us at once and it's harder to remember all the things that make us happy. So--at the risk of sounding like one of Oprah's "favorite things" episodes--I'm writing a few of them down to remind myself.
10. Pizza. I love pizza. It's my comfort food, bringing me back to a simpler childhood time. I could probably eat pizza every day and not get sick of it. I like good, gourmet pizza, and I like crappy fast food pizza. So long as it's got cheese and a crust, I'll give it a shot. But my favorite pizza, I must confess, is Pizza Hut--specifically, a pan crust with extra cheese, especially when I'm on the road traveling. When I was a kid, my family used to drive from St. Louis to Pittsburgh to visit family. On one of these trips, when I was about 9 or 10, we stopped at a Pizza Hut in Indiana somewhere and got a pan crust pizza. It was cooked to perfection, with a golden crispy crust and plenty of cheese. I don't think any Pizza Hut experience since then has come close--but I'm still trying. To this day, if I'm driving long-distance, I'll go out of my way to stop at a Pizza Hut.
9. Before Sunrise/Before Sunset. The 1995 film Before Sunrise featured two twentysomethings: a French woman (Julie Delphy) and an American man (Ethan Hawke) who meet on a train, get off in Vienna, and spend a magical night together before the young man has to catch a plane back to the states the following morning. The movie is sweet and beautiful and magical. The whole thing seems enchanted somehow, like a fairy tale, and as night turns into dawn you can actually feel the mood changing. It's beautiful, bittersweet, and a little bit heartbreaking.
8. The song "Drops of Jupiter" by Train. Yeah, I know: I'm about 10 years late to this party. But despite the fact that I must have heard this song about eleventy bajillion times on pop radio when it came out in 2001, I recently downloaded it onto my iPhone and realized that I still love it, that I could listen to it eleventy bajillion times more and not get sick of it. There's something so evocative about those lyrics. As a girl who spends much of her time with her head in the clouds, much to the consternation of many of my friends and family members, it makes me feel...hopeful. It makes me want to dance naked on the moon. It makes me long for something I haven't found yet, but someone wrote those lyrics so I know it's out there.
7. Dictionary.com. I am a linguaphile. I read words, and I absorb them. I got made fun of all throughout my school years because I used words that the other kids didn't know. But I'm not so good with spelling or pronunciation. Take the last paragraph. The word I wanted was "consternation," but all I could come up with was "constanteration," which is neither the right spelling nor the right pronuncation. But a few quick searches on dictionary.com, and I found the word I wanted. Plus, I could hit the audio button and hear someone say it for me. WAY easier than trying to figure out those pronunciation keys.
6. My cat. If you had asked me a year ago, I would have sworn up and down and all around that I would never adopt a cat. I was terrified of cats. Several years ago, I was attacked--in the bathroom, as I was getting ready for a shower--by two Siamese cats. I screamed, blood ran down the drain. It was very Hitchcockian. I've had people insinunate since then that maybe they were just playing, but I know the difference. These cats were attacking. And it scared the shit out of me.
But I wanted a pet, and I don't like being ruled by my fears. Given that I work full time, and I live in a studio apartment, a dog just wouldn't be convnient for me. So I adopted a cat from the Animal Welfare League of Arlington. She had been a stray. At the shelter, they were calling her Annabelle. Being the macabre type that I am, I changed her name to Annabel Lee. (And kudos to you if you get the reference.)
My cat...is awesome! Anyone who says cats are not as affectionate as dogs has never met my cat. She's sweet, and she's cuddly, and she likes to sleep on my chest. She's easy to love. With her, it's all very simple and uncomplicated. You can never say that about people.
5. My Kindle. I could compose an ode to my Kindle...but I won't. Escapist reading has saved me from some bleak moments, both in the past and recently. My Kindle has made obtaining, reading, and storing this escapist material infinitely easier. It is awesome.
4. Revisions. After getting off to a rocky start with the revisions to my novel, I finally feel like I'm getting...somewhere. I'm not sure if that somewhere is any good, but at least it's something. I've decided to try and tackle my revisions chronologically, as much as I can; I handle drafting much the same way. Tackling things in a logical sequence like that seems to keep my linear left brain happy, prevent frustration. I had a rough time with chapter 1; I ended up cutting the beginning scene altogether. I think, for now, that I made the right decision. Tomorrow I may change my mind.
3. Sex scenes. Dirty confession time: I love sex scenes in books. This is a recent development. Two years ago you wouldn't have caught me dead reading an explicit sex scene, or picking up anything out of the romance section. Now, I hear bondage and ménage a trois and think, "bring it on," with a little quiver of excitement. Oh, yes, sex scenes are awesome.
2. My loved ones. My mom is the awesomest person in the world. She is honest, can read people like a book, and there's no bullshit to her. My brother is...well, my brother can be a pain in the butt, but I've mostly earned it, and I know he'd be there for me no matter what--as would I, for him. I've got great friends who genuinely care about and support me. Two of them volunteered to be beta readers for my novel, and I've gotten great feedback from them. My crush/penpal/lust object has been asking about it and wanting to read it for months now. However complicated our un-relationship may be, at times, he genuinely believes in me and encourages me to do the things I want to do. That, in my experience with the world of dating, is pretty rare.
1. New books! I just finished the newly released Archangel's Consort by Nalini Singh--after re-reading the other books in the Guild Hunter series. I had almost forgotten how much I loved those books. I love the way Singh refuses to humanize her hero. Raphael is a 1500-year-old archangel; he shouldn't act human. The feelings he has for Elena are considered a weakness by his fellow immortals. Yet he can still be--by human standards--cold, cruel, and calculated. I also love how they're still figuring out their relationship. Trust doesn't come easily to either of them, and there's such a huge imbalance of power between them. Raphael could control Elena, crush her ability to resist, which would make her safer--yet to do so would kill everything he loves about her. And Elena, a strong, independent Guild Hunter, has to struggle in a world where she's the weakest one around. I love their dynamic, and the way Singh has stayed so true to her characters.
And in less than a month...This Side of the Grave by Jeaniene Frost will be out! Frost's Night Huntress series was one of the first urban fantasies I read, and it's no wonder I got hooked on the genre. Cat is a tough, resourceful heroine, awesome enough to win the love of a 250-year-old sex-crazed vampire, and Bones is...well, Bones is just sigh-worthy. I remember reading Halfway to the Grave and thinking he was one scary SOB--and he can be, which is what makes his feelings for Cat all that much more amazing. Four books later, their relationship is still one of the hottest in urban fantasy. Bones is the ultimate female fantasy. If I had to pick a fictional character that I would bring to life and let seduce me, he'd be high on that list.
So these are my happy things. Of course, these aren't really in order: my loved ones are way more important to me than new books. Except on release days. Then all bets are off.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Hey (hey), you (you), get off of my cloud!
What's with all the judgment in reading?
Not in reading itself--that's pretty much judgment-free (well, there are some genres that aren't, but that's not what I'm talking about). But I mean as in other judging what I (and others) read--and by extension, since I write things I would like to read, what I write.
I read primarily for entertainment. I love nothing more than curling up with my Kindle and reveling in a new book. Reading is an escapist pleasure for me. I like to read books that take me away from the problems and complications of my own life and the real world. I like books written from the female perspective. (All of the books I've read thus far this year have been written by female authors.) I like strong, independent heroines. I like well-developed characters. I like characters who do the wrong things for the right reasons. I like romance, the kind that takes your breath away and overwhelms you with passion and makes you root for this relationship. I like sex scenes. Yes, I'll admit it. Sex scenes have been a relatively recent discovery in my reading world. But I have quickly, and utterly, embraced them. Bring on the boinking! The smuttier, the better!
I don't like when rape is used in a sexual gratification context. (One recent book, which I had heard almost universally positive things about, skirted that line, and I liked it less because of it.) I don't like characters that do the right things for the wrong reasons, because they tend to be sanctimonious and annoying. I don't like characters whose sarcasm turns to meanness, or characters who are just mean otherwise. When you hurt someone, you should apologize. I can tolerate murder and betrayal and all sorts of unscrupulousness from my characters, but not meanness. I don't like books in which nothing happens. I read fast, and I'm not very patient. If a book hasn't hooked me within the first five pages (or less), I'll probably stop reading. Slow builds don't work for me.
I'm fascinated with the supernatural and the paranormal. I always have been. I was the kid who grew up anxious for the "Unexplained" stories on Unsolved Mysteries. Is it any wonder, then, that I've found my literary niche in urban fantasy and paranormal romance?
When I write, my ambitions are not very grand: I want to write a good story that people will like. I try to write the kinds of stories I think I would like to read myself. I know not everyone will like it, but I hope some people will. That would make me happy. I don't need to write the Great American Novel. What is that, anyway? Wouldn't such a thing be different for everyone?
Why? Because once upon a time, I was worried about what other people would think of me.
That's right. I was not always the cool, confident chick that now haunts the interwebs. As a long- and oft-bullied child, I longed for the one thing I couldn't have: acceptance. Once I was finally accepted among my peers (a status that remains, in my mind, tenuous at best), I was afraid of doing anything that would alienate me from them. We’re often more like animals than we care to admit, we humans. Any weakness and we push people out of the pack. Often, we perceive “difference” as “weakness.”
(I’m often not a fan of the human race.)
To this day, I don’t like anyone to be around me when I’m in a bookstore. I won’t go into one with my friends. Hell, I don’t even like anyone else in the stacks near me, even people I don’t know. No matter what I do, I felt that all-too-familiar surge of self-consciousness. What will they think of what I’m reading, I wonder. It’s a weakness I despise in myself.
Thank God for my Kindle, where I can indulge in the kinds of books I like to my heart’s content and not worry about judgmental eyes watching me.
Ironic, then, that I spend so much of my time writing about what I read. I am CC2K’s (www.cc2konline.com) Book Editor, a position I’ve held for over two years now. I review things over there, talk about the books I like and the ones I don’t. And more recently, I’ve started this blog. I get to be a lot more self-indulgent here, talking about the process of reading and writing and my thoughts about it.
So it doesn’t matter, really, that I have my Kindle. Those judgmental eyes follow me anyway. Only now, instead of making me feel self-conscious, they make me feel angry.
I didn't get here because I've never read anything else. On the contrary, I got here because I've read a lot of other stuff. For years, I wouldn't touch anything in the genre sections of the bookstore. No, I was all about the literary fiction and the classics. I bought a lot of books that I never finished. And I finished a lot of books that I didn't really like. Most of those people who would look down on me because what I read isn’t “good” enough probably haven’t read nearly as much as I have. I’d bet, in most cases, it’s not even close.
I’m not in school anymore. I have no homework assignments to complete. I don’t doubt my intelligence. I am smart, and literate, and I can have a conversation about a great many things without making an idiot of myself. I no longer feel like I have to prove anything to anyone. So what right does anyone have to judge me because the books I read aren’t “good” enough?
Reading is a huge part of my life. Already this year, I’ve read 16 books (14 full-length and 2 novellas). So when someone judges my reading as being not good enough, it feels like they’re judging me.
But I’m angry Beth now, the Beth who can conquer the world. And I don’t need them anyway.
I am one of the happiest people I know. I finished a 309-page novel draft, and I’m working on revisions now so I can start submitting it to agents/editors this spring. I have a family that means the world to me, and a relationship with my mother that most people would envy. I have great friends, people who would have my back no matter what. (Fair-weather friends simply don’t interest me, another consequence of years of being an outcast.) I have a cozy, if usually messy, apartment, and a cat who adores me and likes to sleep on my chest. I have enough money to buy things and travel and go out when I want. I live alone. I answer to nobody and no one. I have my solitude, when I want it—which may sound horrible to some people but, to me, it’s paradise. I am more deeply content now than I have been at any other time in my life.
So to those of you who would get all condescending and snobby toward me for my literary choices: is it really that? It’s the bullies back in school, all over again: they put people down to make themselves feel better. Maybe they see that I have what they lack: happiness.
So I’ll read what I damn well want to read, and the hell with anyone who doesn’t like it. It doesn’t affect you, anyway. Now, get off of my fucking cloud.
Not in reading itself--that's pretty much judgment-free (well, there are some genres that aren't, but that's not what I'm talking about). But I mean as in other judging what I (and others) read--and by extension, since I write things I would like to read, what I write.
I read primarily for entertainment. I love nothing more than curling up with my Kindle and reveling in a new book. Reading is an escapist pleasure for me. I like to read books that take me away from the problems and complications of my own life and the real world. I like books written from the female perspective. (All of the books I've read thus far this year have been written by female authors.) I like strong, independent heroines. I like well-developed characters. I like characters who do the wrong things for the right reasons. I like romance, the kind that takes your breath away and overwhelms you with passion and makes you root for this relationship. I like sex scenes. Yes, I'll admit it. Sex scenes have been a relatively recent discovery in my reading world. But I have quickly, and utterly, embraced them. Bring on the boinking! The smuttier, the better!
I don't like when rape is used in a sexual gratification context. (One recent book, which I had heard almost universally positive things about, skirted that line, and I liked it less because of it.) I don't like characters that do the right things for the wrong reasons, because they tend to be sanctimonious and annoying. I don't like characters whose sarcasm turns to meanness, or characters who are just mean otherwise. When you hurt someone, you should apologize. I can tolerate murder and betrayal and all sorts of unscrupulousness from my characters, but not meanness. I don't like books in which nothing happens. I read fast, and I'm not very patient. If a book hasn't hooked me within the first five pages (or less), I'll probably stop reading. Slow builds don't work for me.
I'm fascinated with the supernatural and the paranormal. I always have been. I was the kid who grew up anxious for the "Unexplained" stories on Unsolved Mysteries. Is it any wonder, then, that I've found my literary niche in urban fantasy and paranormal romance?
When I write, my ambitions are not very grand: I want to write a good story that people will like. I try to write the kinds of stories I think I would like to read myself. I know not everyone will like it, but I hope some people will. That would make me happy. I don't need to write the Great American Novel. What is that, anyway? Wouldn't such a thing be different for everyone?
Why? Because once upon a time, I was worried about what other people would think of me.
That's right. I was not always the cool, confident chick that now haunts the interwebs. As a long- and oft-bullied child, I longed for the one thing I couldn't have: acceptance. Once I was finally accepted among my peers (a status that remains, in my mind, tenuous at best), I was afraid of doing anything that would alienate me from them. We’re often more like animals than we care to admit, we humans. Any weakness and we push people out of the pack. Often, we perceive “difference” as “weakness.”
(I’m often not a fan of the human race.)
To this day, I don’t like anyone to be around me when I’m in a bookstore. I won’t go into one with my friends. Hell, I don’t even like anyone else in the stacks near me, even people I don’t know. No matter what I do, I felt that all-too-familiar surge of self-consciousness. What will they think of what I’m reading, I wonder. It’s a weakness I despise in myself.
Thank God for my Kindle, where I can indulge in the kinds of books I like to my heart’s content and not worry about judgmental eyes watching me.
Ironic, then, that I spend so much of my time writing about what I read. I am CC2K’s (www.cc2konline.com) Book Editor, a position I’ve held for over two years now. I review things over there, talk about the books I like and the ones I don’t. And more recently, I’ve started this blog. I get to be a lot more self-indulgent here, talking about the process of reading and writing and my thoughts about it.
So it doesn’t matter, really, that I have my Kindle. Those judgmental eyes follow me anyway. Only now, instead of making me feel self-conscious, they make me feel angry.
I didn't get here because I've never read anything else. On the contrary, I got here because I've read a lot of other stuff. For years, I wouldn't touch anything in the genre sections of the bookstore. No, I was all about the literary fiction and the classics. I bought a lot of books that I never finished. And I finished a lot of books that I didn't really like. Most of those people who would look down on me because what I read isn’t “good” enough probably haven’t read nearly as much as I have. I’d bet, in most cases, it’s not even close.
I’m not in school anymore. I have no homework assignments to complete. I don’t doubt my intelligence. I am smart, and literate, and I can have a conversation about a great many things without making an idiot of myself. I no longer feel like I have to prove anything to anyone. So what right does anyone have to judge me because the books I read aren’t “good” enough?
Reading is a huge part of my life. Already this year, I’ve read 16 books (14 full-length and 2 novellas). So when someone judges my reading as being not good enough, it feels like they’re judging me.
But I’m angry Beth now, the Beth who can conquer the world. And I don’t need them anyway.
 |
| This is Annabel Lee, my cat. If you had a cat like her, you'd be very happy, too. |
So to those of you who would get all condescending and snobby toward me for my literary choices: is it really that? It’s the bullies back in school, all over again: they put people down to make themselves feel better. Maybe they see that I have what they lack: happiness.
So I’ll read what I damn well want to read, and the hell with anyone who doesn’t like it. It doesn’t affect you, anyway. Now, get off of my fucking cloud.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Can't we all just get along?
Finished Shadowfever yesterday, and I thought it was ABSO-FRIGGING-LUTELY AWESOME! Seriously, a satisfying conclusion to a great series. There were still some unanswered questions, but nothing integral to the story. It was more like, "Hey, might be cool if this were explored at some point." And it might be: Moning has indicated that she intends to continue writing stories in the Fever world, focusing on some of the side characters from the series. This is fantastic news, to me: I think there are a lot of stories left to tell in this world.
But I'm not writing to gush about Shadowfever. (Much to your relief, I'm sure.) But rather, I wanted to talk about the reactions it evinced. On my Twitter feed--which is populated by book bloggers and book lovers--there have been a few negative reactions to the book, and to the series. The detractors have been in the minority, but they're vocal about it. Brave of them. Those on my Twitter feed are mostly a nice group, but the detractors have definitely endured their share of good-natured ribbing about it. I say "good-natured," because I don't think there's any venom or spite behind it, but there's definitely passion. (And I suspect, from what I've been hearing, that there's a lot of less nice things being said--or not said--behind closed doors.) The people who like the series simply cannot fathom that anyone might not. And those who don't can't believe anyone does.
But it's not always like that. The internet seems to bring out a blunter, meaner side to people sometimes. There's an anonymity to it; nobody really knows who you are, you aren't seeing these people face-to-face, and you'll never meet them, so you don't have to worry about what they'll think of you. The internet can, at its worst, serve as a big "fuck you" to things like decency, politeness, tact, and courtesy. And even when malice isn't intended, it can easily be read into black-and-white words; without tone, without knowledge of the person, it's easy enough to sound unintentionally mean or spiteful, especially when it comes to disagreements.
Which brings me to Breaking Dawn.
I'll confess: I liked the first three installments of Stephenie Meyer's Twilight series, enough to earn me the dubious distinction over at CC2K (http://www.cc2konline.com/) of being their "resident Twilight expert." Twilight was a fun, if fluffy, story, Pretty in Pink with vampires. I dig supernatural stuff. It worked for me. I liked the arc of the first three books. Prettyboy vampire leaves, in swoops the werewolf, love triangle commences. Works for me! The ending of Eclipse, the third book, is awesome. Bella finally realizes how her indecision, her inability to committ to one guy knowing she will lose the other, has hurt both of them, and herself. She chooses Edward, and a heartbroken Jacob runs away to who-knows-where. Then Bella agrees to marry Edward. Okay, so the whole "getting married at 18" thing didn't work for me. Nor did the "choose the guy you idolize but is actually a controlling jerk." But the bittersweet melancholy as Jacob runs away and Bella mourns the loss of the guy she almost-could-have-loved is just awesome. And there was a whole other book to resolve Edward's controlling jerk tendencies, and Bella's self-esteem issues.
Then came Breaking Dawn.
Breaking Dawn was the book that really divided the Twilight fandom. Some fans loved it, while others despised it. I was in the latter camp. It wasn't that Bella went with Edward; that was pretty well resolved in Eclipse, and honestly, if you didn't see that one coming a mile away you probably haven't read very much. It was just...ugh. But been there, done that, and that's not what this post is about. (Though if you're curious, you can read how Breaking Dawn broke Twilight.)
What got me about the whole thing was how vicious people were--both in defense and in opposition. Some Twilight fansites even kicked people off for expressing negative opinions about the books. "How dare you not be exactly like us," the action seemed to say. There was a lot of anger and spite, on both sides. The conversation between the people who liked the book and didn't often devolved into territory that was just personally insulted. People seemed to forget that this was a book, and that everyone was free to like/not like it as they chose. It was as if every negative comment was a personal insult against Edward, Bella, and Stephenie Meyer.
But not every book is going to work for every person. No matter how beloved, how acclaimed, some people just won't like it. And those who do like it won't "get" the ones who don't. And vice-versa. Opinions are neither right nor wrong, they are just that: opinions.
I read a book not long ago. (Shocking, right, given that this blog is called "Beth the Book Girl." Captain Obvious, you've just been promoted to Major Obvious.) I didn't really like it. I didn't hate it, but I didn't like it, either. I thought the lead character was annoying, the premise was confusing, and the book suffered from sidelining the best characters in the story. I've read a few recent reviews, and they've been very positive. They praised the heroine's intelligence and wit, and the book's unique premise. That doesn't make me like the book any more, or want to read it again. But it's still a valid opinion.
Non-book related example: the movie Crash won the Best Picture Oscar a few years ago--2006, I believe. I saw the movie, after it was hyped up by critic after critic. I didn't like it. I thought it was preachy and overwrought, and there were too many characters to sympathize with any. (And most weren't sympathetic, anyway.) The same year, Brokeback Mountain was also much-praised--and I didn't like that, either. I thought it was over-long, not terribly interesting, and I just didn't sympathize with the characters. (I think they hurt their wives and families too many times, and they just lost me.) Did those movies deserve all the praise they got? Not in my opinion. But my opinion is no better, or no worse, than anyone else's.
So why, then, can the internet become such a hostile, mean place when people disagree? Isn't that their right? I wish someone would create some internet rules of etiquette--and people would follow them! But they won't, and I sound like one of those old geezers, reminicing about the "good old days" when people were nicer. But I'm also a cynical geezer. People were never nicer. They were just faking it more.
I, personally, want to see the dissenting opinions. I'm genuinely curious about what other people think. When I love a book, yes, I try to convince other people to give it a shot, too. But I also know that the books I love won't work for everyone. I'm obsessed with the paranormal. I have friends who wouldn't even look at it twice. I love genre fiction, and tend to think literary is often dry. Yet I have friends who love it. Without dissention, how boring would our conversations be?
So I welcome the discussion. Bring it on, let's share and talk and revel in this amazing thing called the internet, where you can analyze your favorite (or least favorite) books/movies/TV shows ad nauseum with people who have already read them/seen them. But let's leave the pettiness and pissiness at the door, shall we?
But I'm not writing to gush about Shadowfever. (Much to your relief, I'm sure.) But rather, I wanted to talk about the reactions it evinced. On my Twitter feed--which is populated by book bloggers and book lovers--there have been a few negative reactions to the book, and to the series. The detractors have been in the minority, but they're vocal about it. Brave of them. Those on my Twitter feed are mostly a nice group, but the detractors have definitely endured their share of good-natured ribbing about it. I say "good-natured," because I don't think there's any venom or spite behind it, but there's definitely passion. (And I suspect, from what I've been hearing, that there's a lot of less nice things being said--or not said--behind closed doors.) The people who like the series simply cannot fathom that anyone might not. And those who don't can't believe anyone does.
But it's not always like that. The internet seems to bring out a blunter, meaner side to people sometimes. There's an anonymity to it; nobody really knows who you are, you aren't seeing these people face-to-face, and you'll never meet them, so you don't have to worry about what they'll think of you. The internet can, at its worst, serve as a big "fuck you" to things like decency, politeness, tact, and courtesy. And even when malice isn't intended, it can easily be read into black-and-white words; without tone, without knowledge of the person, it's easy enough to sound unintentionally mean or spiteful, especially when it comes to disagreements.
Which brings me to Breaking Dawn.
I'll confess: I liked the first three installments of Stephenie Meyer's Twilight series, enough to earn me the dubious distinction over at CC2K (http://www.cc2konline.com/) of being their "resident Twilight expert." Twilight was a fun, if fluffy, story, Pretty in Pink with vampires. I dig supernatural stuff. It worked for me. I liked the arc of the first three books. Prettyboy vampire leaves, in swoops the werewolf, love triangle commences. Works for me! The ending of Eclipse, the third book, is awesome. Bella finally realizes how her indecision, her inability to committ to one guy knowing she will lose the other, has hurt both of them, and herself. She chooses Edward, and a heartbroken Jacob runs away to who-knows-where. Then Bella agrees to marry Edward. Okay, so the whole "getting married at 18" thing didn't work for me. Nor did the "choose the guy you idolize but is actually a controlling jerk." But the bittersweet melancholy as Jacob runs away and Bella mourns the loss of the guy she almost-could-have-loved is just awesome. And there was a whole other book to resolve Edward's controlling jerk tendencies, and Bella's self-esteem issues.
Then came Breaking Dawn.
Breaking Dawn was the book that really divided the Twilight fandom. Some fans loved it, while others despised it. I was in the latter camp. It wasn't that Bella went with Edward; that was pretty well resolved in Eclipse, and honestly, if you didn't see that one coming a mile away you probably haven't read very much. It was just...ugh. But been there, done that, and that's not what this post is about. (Though if you're curious, you can read how Breaking Dawn broke Twilight.)
What got me about the whole thing was how vicious people were--both in defense and in opposition. Some Twilight fansites even kicked people off for expressing negative opinions about the books. "How dare you not be exactly like us," the action seemed to say. There was a lot of anger and spite, on both sides. The conversation between the people who liked the book and didn't often devolved into territory that was just personally insulted. People seemed to forget that this was a book, and that everyone was free to like/not like it as they chose. It was as if every negative comment was a personal insult against Edward, Bella, and Stephenie Meyer.
But not every book is going to work for every person. No matter how beloved, how acclaimed, some people just won't like it. And those who do like it won't "get" the ones who don't. And vice-versa. Opinions are neither right nor wrong, they are just that: opinions.
I read a book not long ago. (Shocking, right, given that this blog is called "Beth the Book Girl." Captain Obvious, you've just been promoted to Major Obvious.) I didn't really like it. I didn't hate it, but I didn't like it, either. I thought the lead character was annoying, the premise was confusing, and the book suffered from sidelining the best characters in the story. I've read a few recent reviews, and they've been very positive. They praised the heroine's intelligence and wit, and the book's unique premise. That doesn't make me like the book any more, or want to read it again. But it's still a valid opinion.
Non-book related example: the movie Crash won the Best Picture Oscar a few years ago--2006, I believe. I saw the movie, after it was hyped up by critic after critic. I didn't like it. I thought it was preachy and overwrought, and there were too many characters to sympathize with any. (And most weren't sympathetic, anyway.) The same year, Brokeback Mountain was also much-praised--and I didn't like that, either. I thought it was over-long, not terribly interesting, and I just didn't sympathize with the characters. (I think they hurt their wives and families too many times, and they just lost me.) Did those movies deserve all the praise they got? Not in my opinion. But my opinion is no better, or no worse, than anyone else's.
So why, then, can the internet become such a hostile, mean place when people disagree? Isn't that their right? I wish someone would create some internet rules of etiquette--and people would follow them! But they won't, and I sound like one of those old geezers, reminicing about the "good old days" when people were nicer. But I'm also a cynical geezer. People were never nicer. They were just faking it more.
I, personally, want to see the dissenting opinions. I'm genuinely curious about what other people think. When I love a book, yes, I try to convince other people to give it a shot, too. But I also know that the books I love won't work for everyone. I'm obsessed with the paranormal. I have friends who wouldn't even look at it twice. I love genre fiction, and tend to think literary is often dry. Yet I have friends who love it. Without dissention, how boring would our conversations be?
So I welcome the discussion. Bring it on, let's share and talk and revel in this amazing thing called the internet, where you can analyze your favorite (or least favorite) books/movies/TV shows ad nauseum with people who have already read them/seen them. But let's leave the pettiness and pissiness at the door, shall we?
Monday, January 17, 2011
Musings about the Fever series and speculations about Shadowfever
So I've been trying to comment on a few of the blogs that have had Fever discussions and Shadowfever speculations, and have thus far been unsuccessful. So either I lack the technological competence to figure out how to comment, or Blogger's comment feature just sucks. I'm tending to think the former rather than the latter, given that several people have had difficulty commenting on my blog. Though I am pretty technologically incompetent.
But then I realized: I have my own blog! And nothing feeds into our societal self-indulgence like talking to yourself! (And God knows I've been doing that for a very long time.) So I'm going to post my musings and speculations here.
BIG HUGE GIGANTIC SPOILER WARNING HERE
I think the Beast (the one killed at the end of Dreamfever) is Barrons. But I don't think Barrons will stay dead. Why do I think it's Barrons? Because there are very few characters whose death could make Mac believe she had lost everything. Alina, maybe--but she's already dead (as far as we know), and Mac definitely pointed out the Beast was male. Her father? Doesn't make sense; why would he be there all of a sudden? And why would he be Barrons' beast? Christian MacKeltar? She might be upset about his death, but I don't think she's close enough to him to believe that she'd lost everything at his death.
Why do I believe he won't stay dead? There's a few reasons behind this (i.e. my belief that Barrons won't stay dead) besides desperate, hopeful speculation. Swapping out my fangirl hat for my critical one, Barrons being dead dead just wouldn't make any sense. There's too much we don't know about his character. Plus, he's been set up as a romantic interest for Mac for the last four books. To kill him off so abruptly just doesn't make sense, especially since Moning has promised (at the end of the very dark Faefever, I believe) that there is light at the end of the tunnel. Story-wise, it just doesn't make sense. Second, one of the things I've gotten from reading Moning's Highlander series is that time, in this world, is a mutable concept, and that the past can be changed. It's been mentioned that the Fae once had the ability to travel through time, but this has been lost. When someone (V'lane, I think) mentioned this in the Fever series, I had the impression it had been lost for a very long time. But from reading the Highlander series, I get the impression that they had the ability up until quite recently. The LM--if we believe him--has already said he can bring Alina back. Why not Barrons?
So I don't think Barrons will stay dead forever. But I think he may stay dead for awhile. (Much as I don't want him to.) Mac has grown and evolved a lot as a character throughout the series. But one thing has been constant: Barrons has always had her back. So by being forced to go through the final part of this journey without Barrons, she completes the character evolution that began in Darkfever. She's already become a much stronger, more self-sufficient person. Without Barrons, she'll be forced to become completely self-sufficient. And really, if she's going to have a happily ever after with Barrons, she'll need to be the kind of woman he can go toe-to-toe with. (Why do I keep thinking of that scene in Star Wars where Darth Vader and Obi-Wan fight, and Darth Vader says something like, "When we last met, I was but a student. Now I am the master." My mind is a weird place to live.)
I think Mac has misjudged Barrons. Big time. Mac has said, over and over and over again, that she doesn't trust Barrons. And, sexy as he is, she's not being totally unreasonable. He's lied to her a lot. He's not forthright about himself, his motives, or his past. She's in a strange place, where she doesn't know anyone, and her sister has just been brutally murdered. No wonder she has a hard time trusting anyone!
But actions speak louder than words, Mac, and Barrons' actions have spoken volumes. He's the one who's always protected you, always had your back. He gave you a job, and sheltered you when you had nowhere to go. He gave you a friggin' CAR to drive, a really expensive one, and guys are really protective of that kind of stuff. Oh, yeah, and he offered to turn the bookstore over to you. He cares about you more than you know.
He's not so great with social nicetites, I'll admit. When he left you breakfast in front of your door on the first night you spent in the bookstore, you thought he was saying, "Don't make yourself too comfortable." I think he was trying to be nice, in his gruff, hardass sort of way. And that tattooing you without your permission...yeah, I wouldn't be cool with that either, but he was trying to protect you. And he tore up the bookstore when you were gone and he couldn't find you. It's sort of sweet, in a jackass kind of way.
Yeah, he can be a jerk. (I wanted to hit him after the cake incident.) But I don't think you were ever just a tool to him, as much as he tried to convince you otherwise.
Speaking of Barrons, I have to admit: I had some trouble initially with the way things played out between Barrons and Mac when she was Pri-ya. But I don't anymore. I read chapters 4 and 5 several times--and not just because I liked the sexy bits. Mac was Pri-ya when Barrons rescued her, and I was surprised to discover that, during her recovery process, they were having sex. Lots of it. Mac wasn't really Mac, and she couldn't actually consent to what was happening. Why would he take advantage of her in that state?
But I don't think he did. Looking back, I think Barrons realized that the only way to pull her out of that state safely was to give her what she wanted--at the time, lots and lots of sex. And Barrons has always been a bottom line, end justifies the means, kind of guy. Mac notes that Barrons seems "torn" in his desire toward her; I think that's partially why. He knows rational Mac would never consent to this, and he feels, on some level, like he is taking advantage of her. ("One day you'll wonder whether it's possible to hate me more," I think he says.) But I also think there's a part of him that wants to keep her safe in that room, doesn't want to give her up. And he could have. But he kept fighting to get her back to herself, knowing it would cost him Mac in the end. *Sigh*
If Barrons just wanted the Sinsar Dubh, he could have used Mac while she was Pri-ya. If he just wanted to have sex with Mac, he could have kept her Pri-ya and had himself a very nice and willing fuck-buddy. Instead, he dragged her back kicking and screaming.
And she was, indeed, kicking and screaming. The other thing the re-read showed me was that Mac didn't want to leave the room with Barrons. So much had happened to Mac over the course of the three previous books, the worst of which was becoming Pri-ya. She was broken. The room was her safe place, her cocoon. Whereas what happened with the Unseelie princes was shameful and degrading, what happened with Barrons was not. Barrons, and that room, was what kept her safe from the monsters. I think that's why it took her so long to come back.
Mac's conversation with Christian MacKeltar really got me. Nothing that happened with Barrons had been nonconsensual.
Okay, do I have anything to speculate about that isn't Barrons related? Well that just isn't as much fun.
I think Mac may be the daughter of the Unseelie King and his mistress. She dreams of a cold woman. Maybe she was born in the mirrors? That would explain her newfound abilities. Plus, it would likely make her immortal, or at least much longer-lived. And since Barrons is, I believe, immortal, or nearly so...
Oh, crap, there's Barrons again.
I don't think the LM killed Alina. There! I got one. I don't know who killed Alina, but I don't think it was the LM.
I think I'm going to go through an entire box of Kleenex tomorrow reading the book. The whole series has been an emotional roller coaster. Methinks this will be worse.
There's a wintery mix heading my way tomorrow. I seriously hope my office is closed. I don't think it will be. But a girl can always dream.
I think I'm going to go through an entire box of Kleenex tomorrow reading the book. The whole series has been an emotional roller coaster. Methinks this will be worse.
There's a wintery mix heading my way tomorrow. I seriously hope my office is closed. I don't think it will be. But a girl can always dream.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Love Triangles Ahoy!
I just finished Diana Rowland's Secrets of the Demon, and I absolutely loved the book. The series has officially gone from my "yeah, maybe I'll read the next one" pile to "oh yeah, I'm definitely getting the next one...on release day!" Kara Gillian is a police detective in Beaulac, Louisiana, who also happens to be a demon summoner. But demons, in Kara's world, aren't the evil creatures depicted in Christian mythology; instead, they're creatures of another realm, completely self-serving yet bound by their unwavering code of honor. The demons are both scary and fascinating, and Rowland does a fantastic job depicting creatures that don't operate within a human ethical framework.
Kara has two potential romantic interests in the series: Rhyzkahl, a demonic lord, and Ryan, an FBI agent with a sensitivity to the paranormal. Both are unbelievably hot. Both seem to care for her in their own ways. Both have their flaws and drawbacks. Both occassionally behave like petty assholes. (Yeah, apparently being a demonic lord doesn't save you from that one.) In short, I don't know which one to "root" for.
Thus, my ambivalence with love triangles.
I once called love triangles a "literary cliche worth banning"--though I think, looking back, this might have been a little harsh. Love triangles can be fun and enticing, and they can showcase a lot about a character. On the other hand, they've also become extraordinarily overused in fiction. That said, done well, they can be a lot of fun.
But what's frustrating about them is that I don't always know who to root for. Or sometimes I know who I'm rooting for, but it's not the person who wins out in the end. For example, in the Twilight series (yes, I read it, and yes, I liked it at the time, but I've developed deep issues with it since Breaking Dawn came out), I was completely, totally rooting for Jacob. I just liked him better. Edward struck me as horribly controlling. (Not letting Bella see Jacob, keeping things from her "for her own good," etc.). Plus, I never forgave Edward for leaving in New Moon. It was an asshole move, and Bella let him off way too easy. (Cause she was so in love...ugh!) Having been unceremoniously ditched in a similiar manner in my younger years--though not quite so abruptly--I was not so inclined to dismiss such behavior. I thought it was indicative of a bigger problem: how Edward, in his infinite self-righteousness, always thought he new best, and Bella, in her infinite naivete, believed him every time. Jacob, on the other hand, reminded me of a lot of guys I was friends with. Sure, he was a werewolf, but once he got over the initial shock he wasn't particularly angsty about it. (Edward, on the other hand, was a very angsty vampire. Like being beautiful and young and strong forever is such a terrible thing!) He was warm and caring and generous. Yes, there was some maturity lacking there at times, but honestly...if you're gonna marry the heroine off at 18, the whole thing is gonna lack maturity one way or another.
I've read a book or two before. (Actually, I've read nine this year so far.) I knew, long before Breaking Dawn, that Bella would end up with Edward. Actually, I knew long before Eclipse that Bella would end up with Edward. I mean, really, was there any doubt? Yet I couldn't help but root for Jacob, who seemed to want Bella to spread her wings rather than cower behind a rock somewhere.
But I digress. Love triangles can be fun, but they risk dividing your readers' loyalties. Which brings me back to Secrets of the Demon (the third book in the Kara Gillian series, in case you were wondering). Every time I think I've picked which one of Kara's suitors I'm rooting for, the other one swoops in and steals my affections again. Unlike Twilight, where I just wasn't rooting for the right guy...I like both of them. And I dislike both of them. If you had asked me at the end of Blood of the Demon (the second book), I would have definitely picked one over the other. Now, at the end of the third, the other guy has managed to edge him out.
It's frustrating...but also really, really fun. I look forward to Kara's scenes with both characters, and each interaction adds dimensionality to their relationships and their characters. Though the crime-solving plots are fun and exciting, I must confess: it's the love triangle that keeps me hooked. My own personal loyalties may be divided...but I kind of like it that way.
Maybe the love triangle has some life left in it after all...
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Whitewashing History
Oy. Let's start by talking about how much it pisses me off when we try to make our history look better. And we (meaning, in this case, Americans) do it all the time. (Oh, the Indians and the Pilgrims were such good friends, and they had the first Thanksgiving dinner together, yay!) We have this long-running narrative going on here in America that casts us as the heroes in our own history. We are America. We are the good guys. We are all that is good and right and true. Etc. Yeah, right. I ain't buyin' it!
There's also the insane level of political correctness that has taken over American culture. No, neither the n-word nor "injun" is a nice word to use. They were pejorative then, and they remain so today. But making words into untouchable, taboo things only gives them more power--power, in this day and age, they shouldn't have.
Political correctness has become a way of masking -isms, making the world, on the surface, a nicer, less racist/sexist/homophobic place. We get so caught up on the words that we forget to look at the intent. We tiptoe around things, so afraid to offend, and it prevents us from having a real conversation about these issues.
Huckleberry Finn has been controversial since it was released. It uses a lot of racially charged language. But to me, it's not a racist book. Part of Huck's journey through the story is overcoming his racist attitudes and ideas. He learns to see Jim as a person, whereas many of the other characters often treat him (Jim) as if he's invisible. Both Huck and Jim are marginalized by society, but in different ways, and by the end of the story we see how distanced Huck feels from the "civilized" folk--even his best friend, Tom Sawyer.
But let's take those terrible, horrible words out of the book. Let's pretend they didn't exist--that they don't still exist. Let's hide behind our own civilized, politically correct demeanors and say, "That's not how we are anymore. We don't use those words. We won't even let those words stay in a 130-year-old book anymore!" Except not using the words doesn't mean the attitudes that Twain critiqued don't still exist! And pretending they didn't exist, once upon a time--or at least downplaying them, so we don't destroy our children's fragile view of the world as a perfect and beautiful place--doesn't solve anything.
When I was reading Huckleberry Finn a few years ago on the Metro, I caught an African-American woman glaring at me, unfettered loathing in her gaze. I don't know if it was because of the book or just because she had a bad day. I wanted to know what she found so offensive that it made her glare at a stranger on the Metro just for reading it.
But I didn't ask. That's just not a conversation you can have in politically correct America.
Monday, January 3, 2011
Like a Virgin...or not
So I have consoled myself, in the wait for Karen Marie Moning's Shadowfever, with reading a few books in her Highlander series. These books are straight paranormal romance. They're fun and frothy, but the characters, plot, and writing are definitely more interesting and complex in the Fever series. There is some crossover between the two series, but not enough that I'm dying for Shadowfever...at least, not any more than I already was.
But the reading brought up an issue I've had with romance novels for a long time: what's up with virgins?
I mean, seriously, why does it seem like the majority of heroines I encounter in romance novels are virgins, or nearly so. (Maybe they've only been with one guy, but it was really, really bad.) If your heroine is 16, fine, no problem, make her a virgin. But if she's 26, I have a harder time buying it. That's not to say there aren't 20-something virgin females out there; there are, and I've met some. But I suspect, in this day and age at least, there are a lot more women who lost their virginity in high school or college.
Is this the madonna-and-whore thing again? And if so, why is this destructive archetype popping up in novels aimed primarily at women? It's much more rare to see the opposite: male virgin with experienced female. (Outlander by Diana Gabaldon is the only exception I can think of offhand.)
First of all, sex scenes in romance novels should be sexy. And losing her virginity is often the least sexy sexual experience a woman will have. It's awkward, it can be painful, and you might bleed. Bleeding during sex = not sexy.
Second, what do these books say to all the women who have had active and healthy sex lives? Are we unworthy of love because the guys to whom we "sacrificed our maidenhood" didn't turn out to be the one?
Women have a hard enough time maintaining confidence and self-assurance in a world where they're bombarded with images of stick-thin supermodels and airbrushed actresses, where their worth is inversely proportional to their age, where they're all but stickered with a "sell-by" date. So do we have to tell them that being sexually experienced makes them lesser, as well? As if we don't get enough of that already.
But the reading brought up an issue I've had with romance novels for a long time: what's up with virgins?
I mean, seriously, why does it seem like the majority of heroines I encounter in romance novels are virgins, or nearly so. (Maybe they've only been with one guy, but it was really, really bad.) If your heroine is 16, fine, no problem, make her a virgin. But if she's 26, I have a harder time buying it. That's not to say there aren't 20-something virgin females out there; there are, and I've met some. But I suspect, in this day and age at least, there are a lot more women who lost their virginity in high school or college.
Is this the madonna-and-whore thing again? And if so, why is this destructive archetype popping up in novels aimed primarily at women? It's much more rare to see the opposite: male virgin with experienced female. (Outlander by Diana Gabaldon is the only exception I can think of offhand.)
First of all, sex scenes in romance novels should be sexy. And losing her virginity is often the least sexy sexual experience a woman will have. It's awkward, it can be painful, and you might bleed. Bleeding during sex = not sexy.
Second, what do these books say to all the women who have had active and healthy sex lives? Are we unworthy of love because the guys to whom we "sacrificed our maidenhood" didn't turn out to be the one?
Women have a hard enough time maintaining confidence and self-assurance in a world where they're bombarded with images of stick-thin supermodels and airbrushed actresses, where their worth is inversely proportional to their age, where they're all but stickered with a "sell-by" date. So do we have to tell them that being sexually experienced makes them lesser, as well? As if we don't get enough of that already.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
What I'm doing while I wait for Shadowfever
I'm hooked. I blame Twitter.
See, I had never heard of these books until a few weeks ago, when my Twitter page suddenly exploded with people talking about it, obsessing about what would happen in the final book, raving about their crush on a fictional guy named Jericho Z. Barrons. ("What the hell kind of name is Jericho Z. Barrons?" I thought.) But that's what I get, I suppose, for populating my Twitter follows with people who, like me, are obsessed with books and think about them constantly. And at the time, I was looking for some fresh reading to occupy my time while I was at home for Christmas. So I decided to give Darkfever a whirl. And then I discovered that I couldn't put the series down.
The protagonist, Mac, travels to Ireland to find out who murdered her sister. She discovers that she's a sidhe-seer, someone who can sense fae (fairies) and their sacred objects--as was her sister. Turns out, there is someone out there intent on bringing down the walls between the realms, unleashing the dangerous Unseelie fae on the human world. The mystery of who killed Mac's sister and why drives the overall arc of the series; four books later, and we're still not entirely sure. Everyone lies, everyone hides things, everyone has ulterior motives. Mac doesn't know who to trust, and neither does the reader. As for this Jericho Z. Barrons everyone keeps talking about: he's dark, he's mysterious, he's enigmatic, and it's not entirely clear whether he's a good guy or a bad guy. Oh, I know what I think. But I can see why Mac doesn't trust him. (But I just love me some bad boys...fictionally, at least.)
I devoured the first four installments, and then I jumped back to the beginning and re-read them almost instantly to catch the stuff I missed. (One of my worst habits is reading so quickly that I miss details.) Yet here I am, still nearly three weeks to go before the release of Shadowfever...and I'm going nuts. I'm obsessing. Not long ago, I compared the end of Carolyn Crane's Double Cross to The Empire Strikes Back--hugely surprising ("Holy shit, Darth Vader is Luke's father!"), but definitely a calm-before-the-storm kind of thing. The end of Dreamfever, the last book, was more like a "Who shot J.R.?" kind of thing--except that we know whodunnit, just not to whom. I can only imagine how people have been waiting since Dreamfever was published in August of 2009 must have felt. But in a way, maybe that was easier. I mean, you ended the book knowing it was gonna be a year or so before the final act was published. You're forced to move on with your life, start doing other things, have relationships with other books. But for me, I'm so close...yet so far away. (As you can probably guess, I just finished my re-read of Dreamfever today.)
It's not healthy.
And so now, I'm forcing myself to think of things I can do to take my mind off of the Fever series for the next...16 days, 7 hours, and 51 minutes. *Sigh*
- Revise, revise, revise. Uhhh, didn't I just like...write a novel, or something?
- Rediscover the lost art of cinema. You know, it's been awhile since I've seen a good movie. (Unfortunately, When in Rome, the movie I just finished, didn't qualify on any level.)
- Read other books. I hear Moning has another series. Ummm, but that probably won't help much.
- Get a mani/pedi. It's been a long time since I've indulged in one of these. Full mani/pedi should take at least an hour. Which will leave me with only...16 days, 6 hours, and 51 minutes.
- Play with my cat. She's been having separation anxiety issues ever since I got back from visiting my family for Christmas. A good option all around. She'll be happy and purr-y, and I'll be less inclined to think about Shadowfever. Of course, by the end of it, my chest and arms will look like they've been gouged with a fork where she dug her claws in. I really need to trim those things. Ouch.
- Date. I hear that young people often go out on these things called "dates," wherein they engage in dinner and conversation with another individual to determine whether they are sexually attracted to one another. If they are, they don't generally have sex, but they may think about it a lot more. It's an odd, foreign concept to me, but perhaps it's something I should try. I may, as a matter of fact, be going out with a potentially eligible person next weekend. I wonder if he's read the series...
- Dental visits. It's well past time for my semi-annual cleaning. And I do have a molar that needs crowned...
- Getting back to my roots...kind of. In the series, Mac dyes her hair black to avoid recognition. I wonder how I'd look with raven hair. (In all likelihood, pale and splotchy. I don't think black hair will work with blue eyes and freckles.)
- Cooking. Since I live alone, it's not often that I indulge in home booking, but I think it's about time, don't you. There's some recipes in the back of Dreamfever...
- Writing really stupid blog entries about all the things I'm going to do not to think about the series. Quite effective, really. This took, like, 15 minutes. Only 16 days, 7 hours, and 38 minutes to go. *Sigh*
Friday, December 31, 2010
The Inagural Post: Why I Write and Why I Read
So I've decided to start a blog.
I have no idea why I'm doing it. I have no idea whether anyone will read it. Not for awhile, I suspect. Which is fine. Gives me a chance to get the lay of the land, so to speak.
There are two things I do pretty frequently, more often than anything else: writing and reading. I don't really have any other hobbies, so to speak. I like cooking, but I live alone and I'm a picky eater. I like dancing, but I hate crowds and I don't have a boyfriend. I used to like television and movies, but now I can't remember the last time I went to the theater and I can't even find my remote control half the time.
So that's what I do. I write. And I read. And that's that.
And this is fine with me. I have great friends, a good job, a nice (albeit quite messy, most of the time) apartment, and I love my life. Being a book girl is awesome.
My love of reading started very early. As a kid, I had a difficult time socially--that's just another way of saying I was a pariah--so books became my escape, and the characters became my friends. Anne Shirley. Meg Murray. These were the girls I related to growing up. As I got older, I moved on to Jane Austen and Charlotte Bronte. (Ah, yes, despite my cynical facade, I am a sap. I am a sucker for the romances.) More recently, I've been reading a lot of urban fantasy and paranormal romances. I love supernatural stuff. I've always been a big believer in a world full of possibilities.
As for writing...well, that one is simpler: I am a megalomaniac. The books you read don't always end the way you want them to. The books you write do. I get to create a world and its inhabitants. Then I get to control it. I am a god. HAHAHAHAHA!!!!
Seriously, though, I live half my life in my head making stuff up, anyway. I'm a regular Walter Mitty. I might as well use writing as an outlet for it.
At any rate, since I need a place to keep track of them anyway, here are my reading and writing-related resolutions for 2011:
I have no idea why I'm doing it. I have no idea whether anyone will read it. Not for awhile, I suspect. Which is fine. Gives me a chance to get the lay of the land, so to speak.
There are two things I do pretty frequently, more often than anything else: writing and reading. I don't really have any other hobbies, so to speak. I like cooking, but I live alone and I'm a picky eater. I like dancing, but I hate crowds and I don't have a boyfriend. I used to like television and movies, but now I can't remember the last time I went to the theater and I can't even find my remote control half the time.
So that's what I do. I write. And I read. And that's that.
And this is fine with me. I have great friends, a good job, a nice (albeit quite messy, most of the time) apartment, and I love my life. Being a book girl is awesome.
My love of reading started very early. As a kid, I had a difficult time socially--that's just another way of saying I was a pariah--so books became my escape, and the characters became my friends. Anne Shirley. Meg Murray. These were the girls I related to growing up. As I got older, I moved on to Jane Austen and Charlotte Bronte. (Ah, yes, despite my cynical facade, I am a sap. I am a sucker for the romances.) More recently, I've been reading a lot of urban fantasy and paranormal romances. I love supernatural stuff. I've always been a big believer in a world full of possibilities.
As for writing...well, that one is simpler: I am a megalomaniac. The books you read don't always end the way you want them to. The books you write do. I get to create a world and its inhabitants. Then I get to control it. I am a god. HAHAHAHAHA!!!!
Seriously, though, I live half my life in my head making stuff up, anyway. I'm a regular Walter Mitty. I might as well use writing as an outlet for it.
At any rate, since I need a place to keep track of them anyway, here are my reading and writing-related resolutions for 2011:
Reading Resolutions
1. Keep track of the books I read. I read a lot of books in 2010. Too bad I have absolutely no idea which books, or how many
2. Be more open to new genres and authors.
3. Along the same line, take more reading suggestions. As the Book Editor over at cc2konline.com, I really should try to be more open and diverse in my reading. (Of course, the advantage of having my own personal blog is that, on it, I can be as self-indulgent in my reading as I want!)
Writing Resolutions
1. Revise that manuscript of the first draft I just finished.
2. Join some critique groups.
3. Learn to take criticism better. (I've got a long way to go on this one.)
4. Start submitting to agents/publishers before the end of 2011.
5. Work on something else as I'm revising, so I don't want to tear my hair out.
Oh, boy. Something tells me it could be a long year...
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