crank...random thoughts

Crank by Ellen Hopkins.

Okay, so I knew going into this book, it wasn't going to be a pretty read. I knew the general story--"good girl" turns "not-so-good girl" thanks to drugs. (Quotes signifying that I know nothing is ever so straightforward.) What I didn't know is how much this book would leave me feeling physically battered. How much I would relate to these issues, to these scenes, to these feelings.

See, I could have been Kristina. No, our stories were not identical. No, our family circumstances were not the same. And no, my fall was not nearly as devastating. But it could have been. And I'm smart enough to know how very lucky I am. And here I'm only talking about the drug use.

But I could relate to other details of Kristina's life, too. For example, her rape. Again, different circumstances. Different outcomes. But also again...I found her voice so believable.

And speaking of believable, Ellen Hopkins wrote this story based in part on the experiences of her own daughter, her own family. This knowledge had a way of breaking my heart even more...I found myself time after time thinking, "Oh no...I hope this part is purely fiction" because I didn't want to think about the reality of this or that happening to a real live human being. And of course, the sad truth is, all these things do happen to real live human beings every damn day.

You know what made it all the scarier? Being a mom.

This book is written in free verse. A thought that scared me a bit before I started reading. But I loved its style. And it certainly made it a very fast read for a book of over 500 pages.

If I have any complaint about the book, it would be the ending. After spending over 500 pages spanning just a few months time, the last few pages cover the rest of an entire year. Yes, I think I understand why Hopkins wrote it this way...and I can't really talk about it without giving things away...but I really would have loved to have heard more about what Kristina did and thought and felt during that time.

There is a sequel to this book. And I believe a third coming out later this year. Will I read them? I haven't yet decided. Not because I didn't think this was a great book. But more because it just hit me so very, very hard.

enchanted night random thoughts and vivid visuals

I can say without question that I've never read a book quite like this before. Seriously, what a unique little book it is. I'm not even going to try to review it...Chris and Carl have both done so recently, and have done so far better than I ever could. Instead I just want to share a few short little bits gathered from throughout. Steven Millhauser paints quite a visual. So many times I found myself somewhat taken aback by the pictures that would spring to life in my mind. Taken aback because they were so real and clear and vivid. It's not that I found his writing exquisitely beautiful in the way I do Ray Bradbury's (yeah, I know, I know--I *always* use him as my example of writing that takes my breath away). But there was something about Millhauser's words that brought things so vividly to life. I'm not sure if they'll have the same power plucked from their little vignettes, but I'm going to share them anyway.

*So green, the grass, so strangely moonly green, that it looks greener than green: silk-blouse green, eyelid green, the green of transparent childhood marbles rolling in sun and shade.

*Moonlight lies on her cheeks, on her long fingers and half-parted lips. She feels the moonlight penetrating her fiberglass skin, soothing her, lulling her will; she feels a swooning languor combined with a secret excitement, a loosing of the rigorous bonds of her nature.
(The "she" in this passage is a mannequin.)

*Janet runs barefoot across the lawn turned gem-green by the moon, a fairytale green, the green of lost cities at the bottoms of lakes in the depths of dark forests...

*She ripples into moonlight, her nightgown fluttering, her tanned legs shining under the moon--she swings with flung-back face, looking at him upside down, laughing suddenly into the moon-mad sky.

*In the small secret place, tree-walled, a little room among the trees, Laura steps into the patch of brightness and lifts her face to the moon. The moon is so bright she has to close her eyes. She stands with her face turned up, the way she's seen people in Indian summer, leaves yellowing on the trees, stand with their eyes closed and their bright faces turned to the sun. Her sun in the moon, feverish-cool. Ice-flames ride down her arms.

*The music takes her by surprise: it sounds like the kind of music you might hear on a merry-go-round, a sad and jaunty music, a wooden-horse tune shot through with the smell of cotton candy and the distant clatter of rides. In the moonlit dark living room she watches the loony lady begin to turn slowly, her arms outspread, her eyes half close, her mouth smiling as she turns and turns on her bare feet on the dark rug with its pattern of peacocks.

random thoughts on a wizard of earthsea

*I feel so very sorry for this book. Or rather, I suppose I feel sorry for myself. For as much as I enjoyed this book, I think I would have enjoyed it even more if I had read it at a different time (i.e., not overlapping and following Monsters of Men). Monsters of Men, or the whole Chaos Walking trilogy really, just so took my breath away, so consumed me, that I think nearly anything in comparison would fall short. I think maybe the biggest part of this had to do with the pacing. Monsters of Men is nearly frenetic, and I think being so keyed-up from that experience, I found myself becoming impatient with the pace of A Wizard of Earthsea. So, yes, sad...because I *know* I wouldn't have felt this impatience at a different time.

*Other than my silly impatience though...I really did enjoy this book. And it surprised me immensely when Ana mentioned to me that many people despise this series. I'm with you, Ana, on that one...I can't for the life of me fathom what would stir up such strong negative feelings towards these books. (Of course, I've only read the first...but if it's any indication of what the series is like as whole...) 

*Okay, shall I flaunt my profound ignornance when it comes to fantasy literature? A Wizard of Earthsea is the sort of fantasy that I grew up thinking stereotypical of fantasy. Wizards, dragons, quests. I find it so sad that for so many years I had no idea how enormously broad the fantasy genre is. *sigh* Can we just do away with "genre" altogether? *more sighs* I mean, I understand that categorizing books can have some usefulness in very limited ways. But for me, it does little more than confuse me. I also find it extremely sad that in my day, fantasy literature never made my assigned reading lists for school. Nor did science fiction. Nor did horror. In seventh grade, we did read an Agatha Christie book, but that would pretty much cover it for mysteries. I'm not saying the literature I was assigned was "bad" or "unworthy"...but book blogging has opened my eyes to how very limited it was. Shouldn't the goal of education be to broaden minds, not limit them?

*This was my very encounter with Ursula Le Guin. I know some people have very mixed feelings about her. All I can say is that my first venture into her worlds was a success. And she absolutely earned my respect, not as a writer (though she very much earned my respect in that regard as well), but as a person. With this one simple passage:

Later, when Ged thought back upon that night, he knew that had none touched him when he lay thus spirit-lost, had none called him back in some way, he might have been lost for good. It was only the dumb instinctive wisdom of the beast who licks his hurt companion to comfort him, and yet in that wisdom Ged saw something akin to his own power, something that went as deep as wizardry. From that time forth he believed that the wise man is one who never set himself apart from other living things, whether they have speech or not, and in later years he strove long to learn what can be learned, in silence, from the eyes of animals, the flight of birds, the great slow gestures of trees.

 Oh yes, I love her.

*The next book in the series is on its way from PaperbackSwap. :D

reasons why i love local

I am so very tempted to just say "everything" and call it a day, but that doesn't make for much of a list, does it? (I'm talking about Local by Brian Wood and Ryan Kelly, btw.)

*I'm really coming to enjoy the whole concept of a series of short stories coming together to tell a larger story. This series of comics does that beautifully. In twelve issues, we get twelve distinct stories (well, in a way, eleven, as two of the issues fit together a bit more tightly).

*The essays! In the original comics, both Brian Wood and Ryan Kelly included an essay at the end of each issue. In the big compilation, the essays are included at the end of the book, but I read the essays for each issue as soon as I finished the particular issue they were written to go with. And really that was the way to go...I think I likely got much more out of them this way. Anyway, the essays were so interesting! They gave such insight into so many things: the process of writing comics, the way Local changed from Wood's original concept as the stories began coming out, the personalities of Wood and Kelly, etc. And they weren't just interesting--they were downright fun!

*The soundtracks. I love when authors let you in on their soundtracks. And both Wood and Kelly included their soundtracks with each essay. Now, to be truthful...I didn't know a lot of the songs or bands (Me = Unhip). And if I'd have read this a year or two ago, I'd have known even fewer (my wonderful friends Ana and Chris are slowly dragging me into the 21st century, so I did know few like Modest Mouse, Sufjan Stevens, and The New Pornographers). And there were even a few I knew all on my own, like Bob Dylan and Talking Heads. Anyway, I just loved the soundtracks, and I loved going and trying to listen to the songs I didn't know just so I could hear what they were listening to as they created each issue.

*The whole city concept. Each issue is set in a different North American city. And they went to great lengths to make them accurate. Both in the big picture cityscapes and in the details inside the stores, restaurants, etc. It's just so awesome the way the great local flavors just come shining through. The only one of the cities I was at familiar with was Toronto. The opening panel of that issue just made me smile enormously because I could see without question the hotel that Rich and I stayed at when we spent a few days there a couple summers ago.

*Megan. She's the thread that ties these cities together. She leads sort of a vagabond existence from the time she leaves home at seventeen (in the first issue). She figures prominently in many of the stories, but only appears in the periphery of some of them. But even in the periphery, the events of these stories affect her. I was shocked to read in one of the essays that a lot people told Brian Wood that they hated Megan. I don't get that at all. I really don't. Yeah, she does some pretty annoying things. Even some hurtful things. But god, she's so real. She's a hurting, authentic, flawed young woman. And one of those stories where she's sort of in the periphery...well, no one could go through that and not come out a little inwardly scarred. I related to Megan so much. Not that I ever led a vagabond existence. But shit happened as I was entering adulthood that really screwed me up. I maybe wasn't always the nicest person over the next few years. And trauma or not, few of us move smoothly through the process of "growing up." (And this really does cover the span of her "growing up," following her from age 17 through about age 30, about a year passing during or between each issue.) So anyway, I really don't get how people hated Megan. I loved her, flaws, immaturity, pain, and all.

*Picking up little bits of previously unknown info. Like the fact that Hope Larson and Brian Lee O'Malley are married. Who knew? (Yeah, probably everyone but me. :P But hey, now I know, too.) They happen to be the letterers for this book, btw.

*And last, but not least...The Art. (And honestly, it's only last because I need to get some other things done...I suspect I could go on with this list for quite some time yet.) Okay, The Art. Black and white. Bold, yet full of detail. Expressive. Truly, I just thought it was gorgeous.