The Fault in Our Stars by John Green

Okay. I just started and deleted about eighteen sentences in a row trying to figure out what exactly my thoughts on this book are. I very obviously loved it, but not in a conventional way.

This is a essentially a book about people and fear and life, three things I'm decently familiar with but never in words that were as hilariously clever and cutting as John Green's. Using a Neil Gaimanism, no one can write a John Green book like John Green. A mixture of grief that makes you want to stay in bed all day holding a soggy page of a venn diagram paired with written wit that induces laughter that fuels Monsters Inc factories worldwide.

Something I've heard often, and which I agree with to an extent, is that it's a little pretentious on the surface - that the teenagers don't act like teenagers. If I honestly met anyone like Green's main characters Hazel and Augustus, whose every sentence seemed to be filled with brilliance of either wisdom or wit, I would be a little ashamed about my "your face" jokes. These are two characters that are some of the most well-written, thought-out, full-fledged characters I've come across since Charlie from Perks. But if there are people who speak as easily as Augustus and Hazel, John Green's keyboard should come without a backspace button. Because if it were honestly authentic nothing would be deleted or rewritten, which makes it lack a portion of authenticity solely because the tongues of teenagers very obviously don't have backspace buttons. But that can be said about any book at all, or any movie or play or tv show. Their dialogue is carefully thought over and written and deleted and cut and rewritten. Should John Green have deleted all of his intelligent thoughts that his characters represent, just because of that fact? Books and plays and movies are supposed to show the significant parts of people's lives, not the boring parts, so the significant thoughts and ideas and moments are recorded. If anyone were to sit down and only write their best thoughts out, would that be unauthentic because it isn't representative of all of their thoughts? I mean, I rewrote a lot of these thoughts and if I were to speak my original ideas, it would be more like this: omg this book was so good!!!!!!!! Does that make the more articulate thoughts less than authentic, because I took time with them? I don't know, but this complaint somehow got under my skin even though I was able to agree with it on some parts.

But basically, as John Green himself said, he likes to write smart characters - and I like to read smart characters, so I can't really complain about authenticity. Even though that's what I just did. It's not really a complaint, though, because you can't complain about something you like, and I liked their dialogue as much as Gilmore Girls. (Yeah, I just compared Green to Gilmore Girls, at least it has alliteration.)  I think part of the reason the book is so amazing is because they're amazing people, and if it were any less people would be complaining for the exact opposite reason. But I wanted to address it because I want to hear your thoughts and also to say to hell with it because critiquing people on being too smart seems more pretentious than what I initially brought up, so it's time for a transition.

Transitioning a paragraph that just ended in transition is actually pretty hard, so speaking of Peter Van Houghton, there was a parallel between Hazel and her thoughts on her favorite book, An Imperial Affliction, and the reader and The Fault in Our Stars. Maybe not The Fault in Our Stars in particular, but definitely to books in general. Hazel's thoughts speak of the importance of books, of what makes them more than just ink on paper; if they have eternal ideas and purpose, or if art itself is just as mortal as people. Because art is essentially nothing without people to take something from it, and the thought about that and mortality is pretty consistent in The Fault in Our Stars. It makes you question what you take out of the book, out of every book you read, and the importance it has. It's not something I'd really stopped to think about before, or something that had been addressed much, so it really hit me.

Basically, it's a book that makes you think and laugh, which is why I loved it so much. It makes you feel pretty much everything on the emotional spectrum. And that, in my opinion? It's pretty okay.

Einstein Had A Dirty Desk

They say that the messier your room/workspace is, the smarter you are. If that's true, I am sincerely a genius. I don't know if it's a writer thing or not, but my desk is always piled with books and papers and concert tickets and coffee mugs and flash cards and colored pencils and things I will perpetually "get to later."

I have figurines of owls and a year-old bottle of Tru Blood, a stuffed cow I got when I bought Harvest Moon for wii, the BBC version of Hamlet, pictures, boxes of tea, a Beatles documentary, set lists, expired metrocards, ear buds that don't work anymore, a spoon from Italy, and a box of blank tapes. CD covers without CDs in them, pieces of paper with scrawled phrases that have no meaning anymore, discs of Supernatural in no order whatsoever. Labyrinth mangas that I haven't read, pieces of sea glass from a broken necklace, and empty wooden boxes.

It's chaos on this wooden desk, which my laptop lays in the middle of.

But, for me, it's much easier to work in the middle of inspiration, tickets from places I've been or books I haven't opened that have unknown adventures in them. Maybe my bottle of Advil isn't so inspiring, but it's better for me to write enclosed in paper and ink and perfume bottles than a clean wooden desk.

What about you guys? What's on your desk?

A Touch Morbid Trailers

I was in a trailer for the book A Touch Morbid by Leah Clifford, which is the sequel to A Touch Mortal. It was definitely an interesting experience because it basically consisted of Leah calling me up and saying, "Hey, let's go to NYC tomorrow and film." And so we all got in a car and drove the eight+ hours. We spent the weekend filming in a huge gorgeous cemetery and under the rockefeller tree in the freezing cold. It was amazing - especially the cemetery. I don't think I've been so awed and humbled by something in a long time. There were gorgeous mausoleums and crypts with stained glass windows, and I was in a Victorian dress in January, trailing my hand over graves. It was particularly creepy when, out of nowhere, a giant branch of a tree fell off and hit the ground with a huge thud. If I didn't already have them from the cold, I probably would have gotten goosebumps from it.

Anyway, we did a second filming back in Ohio at this gorgeous Victorian house. We lit hundreds of candles and shot tons of scenes, so it was decided there would be two trailers - one for the character I played - Kristen, the shizophrenic graverobbing character of ATM who spouts poetry and insults like they're always on the tip of her tongue. The second trailer is starring friends Emili and Clay (who also filmed/directed them and did the music,) who played Eden and Az, the couple of ATM who seriously can't catch a freaking break. They go through a hell of a lot, those two characters, and the trailer did that justice.

So here are the final results. Let me know what you think!

 For info on the books go here for A Touch Mortal (book #1) and here for A Touch Morbid (book #2)

Coraline by Neil Gaiman

Neil Gaiman has a way of writing that makes you feel like you have spiders crawling under your skin. With Coraline, it didn't feel like arachne. It felt like nails against the back of your neck, like the hot breath of a nightmare served over the mental-maggot takeout from Lost Boys.

Coraline steps through a door she is curious about, mostly because it's locked. And you can't tell a child or a woman you can't open a door, because they will. It happened with Pandora and it happened with Coraline, but if both the box and the door weren't opened, the world would have continued to be boring. So, good thing for women and children and curious cats. This particular door is filled with a world lurking in the dark; a world that, for several reasons, will definitely feed your dreamcatcher at night.

One of those reasons is a simple one: buttons. There's something entirely creepy about people without eyes, because they somehow seem to see you better. Like they're mentally feeling you up - not like a rockstar would, but like a demon doll would, while it's sitting in its little high chair and plotting how to kill you with porcelain eyes. So when people have buttons instead of eyeballs, I get a little wigged out.

Coraline handled it much better than if I were her. There's something very admirable about being a little girl and not screaming and crying like a little girl. I mean, Coraline was a force in this book. And she was scared, obviously, because who wouldn't be with a button-eyed wench on your trail and the imagination of a child in a dark place. But she kept walking and whistling, because: "She thought it might make it harder for things to jump out at her if she was whistling." I totally use this tactic too - especially when I learned to drive and thought maybe my car would be immune to curbs if I whistled happy things. It didn't work, but I doubt if I were in a dark hall filled with monsters, I'd be able to whistle. So, Coraline, props.

There's also something unnameable about the otherworldly quality of this book. It's not like it takes place in a dream, but more like it takes place in the cracks on the sidewalk and the reflection in your mirror, places that are there but you can't completely see into. It's a world that is a false version of Coraline's real world, which makes it even more terrifying - because as much as the imagination can create terror, versions of reality can create it better. 

Like in one of the most spine-tingling quotes of the book: "'Now Coraline,' said Miss Spink, 'what's your name?'" The idea of a question that already has an answer is only creepy when it's asked by someone with a false skin. And this entire book is bathed in creepy.

A Wrinkle in Time - Mrs Who

A Wrinkle in Time is a book that's transcended time. It's fifty years old but is still widely read and referenced. In fact, many dystopian books that you read today are inspired by Madeleine L'Engle's planets and worlds. There's a town in A Wrinkle in Time where everyone is perfectly synchronized to a schedule: everything is done at the same time every day, always perfectly. A planet that is made out of paper. Worlds that are beautiful and scary and weird - this book flips through them like a public mirror in its reflection of faces.

And what's so great about A Wrinkle in Time is that the characters who see these worlds are completely memorable. One of my favorites, who I'm going to be focusing on today, is Mrs. Who.

I like the mystery about her. More than her sisters, Mrs. Whatsit and Mrs.Which, she is unreadable and curious. She uses other's words, in quotations and cliches, rather than her own. She speaks through other's sayings. In French, German, Latin, Greek, she moves throughout languages like a verbal dancer. You don't ever really know who she is, because she quotes Shakespeare instead of answering a question, which is an answer but only in cryptic terms. In that way, you can get a glimpse of who she is by the quotes and phrases she uses, but not fully. She's a mystery, and I love a character you have to keep guessing about.

I think that's partially the reason her name is what it is, because you want to know who she is, and because she's apparently an ironic tease, she names herself after that fact.

Mrs. Who wears these spectacles, which are talked about several times in the book. This is also part of her character, because she essentially sees through other eyes both in her words and in her vision.

"Suddenly two eyes seemed to spring at them out of the darkness; it was the moonlight striking on Mrs Who's glasses." Like an owl, that one. If the three W sisters were menacing, Mrs. Who would be the scariest, because her character is so unpredictably creepy. Her weapon of choice would be knitting needles.

But the W's are more helpful, mysterious narrators than monsters. They help the characters through the journey, and are even the start and end of that journey, so they keep the plot running while you and the main characters experience it.

Mrs. Who is probably the most elusive character in this book, but that's why she's so intriguing. Even though she uses other's words instead of her own, she has a lot to say.

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The 50th Anniversary edition of A Wrinkle in Time is in stores now, and it includes a lot of extras if you want to revisit the story. It has photos, L'Engle's acceptance speech, letters from authors, and more. This post is part of the 50 Years, 50 Days, 50 Blogs Tour, and you can check out the other stops on the tour here, through the A Wrinkle in Time facebook page.

Nostalgia

Alice in Wonderland is one of my favorite books, mostly because the whole thing feels like a dream, both when you're reading it and when you're remembering it. Looking back, I remember it in tiny fragments of talking plants and careless running and unlucky hedgehogs and nonsensical dialogue. Very much like the memory of a dream that you can't fully piece together.

The Tim Burton movie, which was more like a sequel, was awesome because it gave everything a darker feel, which you can expect with Burton as the director. I went to his exhibit when I was in LA, and the dude has a weird, twisted, fantastic mind. His version of Alice made me want to revisit that world, a heavy dose of nostalgia hidden under the mad hatter's hat.

Nostalgia. It's like watching Hey Arnold or Rugrats reruns if you're a 90s kid. If you were introduced to it when you were older, you would probably wonder why Arnold's head is shaped like a football, but because it made sense to you when you were a kid, you think his football head and very unfortunate hair are adorable sentiments.

There's something unnameable about nostalgia that is entirely perfect.

Another favorite of mine, maybe my favorite favorite (that's similar to like-liking someone in elementary school, except in this case with words instead of candy hearts,) is The Secret Garden. Every time I see an ornate fence or unruly rosebushes, I think of this book. The combination of nature and horrid/fantastic characters, and the similarities between both - it's kind of brilliant. I have never disliked a character so much as the main character of that book, and for that reason I loved it. It was nothing like I had ever read before as a kid, and I wanted to go and find that secret garden more than anything. Even the thought of it now makes me want to be a kid again.

That's why when Where the Wild Things Are came out in theaters, I knew I had to see it. (Aside from the fact that they used my favorite Arcade Fire song on the trailer.) Because I could slightly remember the smile on my face when I was falling asleep with the pictures of giant fuzzy creatures in my head.

If you could buy nostalgia on the black market, I'd be so unlawful.

My post tomorrow has to do with a certain book that a lot of readers will find nostalgic to visit again: A Wrinkle in Time. I'm going to be talking about one of my favorite characters from that book for the 50 Year Anniversary tour. So check out the link, read some of the other posts, and revisit it again (or, if you haven't already read it, now is a good time to start some nostalgia for the next decade.)

Once Upon a Time & The Price of Magic

So I'm kind of addicted to ABC's Once Upon a Time. I love fairy tales and retellings, but I was pretty adamant on not liking this one because the commercials looked so undesirably corny. But then I watched the first episode and I saw the sheriff and I was like "hey, maybe I like this show more." Yeah, I was pretty much a complete girl about it. But then I got past the first episode and realized that the show was actually kind of...good? The kind of good you don't even feel guilty about.

Because there's Rumpelstiltskin, played by brilliant actor Robert Carlyle, whose this evil, manipulative, slightly glittery son of a gun who needs a new dentist but is insane in the best possible way. I love a good villain, and this is a good freaking villain.

The show goes back and forth between modern day, where none of the fairy tale characters really know who they are but are trapped in a town conveniently called Storybrooke (I see what you did there, ABC) and the past when they are characters you went to sleep learning about. But the stories have that slight Grimm touch on top of the classic spin - they give a root of dark underneath the stories you're accustomed to hearing, and it's pretty great.

Anyway, back to Rumpelstiltskin.

He says this thing in his origin episode that I had to prove either right or wrong: "Magic always comes with a price." And when he first said it, I was all "yeah, yeah, cliche, the price is the loss of toothpaste," but then I thought it was really true.

Every story with magic in it always ends with people lamenting about their miserable lives. Clark Kent wanted to know his family and maybe drink a nice cup of tea with them, but noooooooo. Harry Potter was tired of getting stared at and wanted to snog girls, but nooooooo. It gets very angsty, and they always talk about wanting to be normal.

It's either that, or they're a complete power-eater like Sylar, but while villains are fantastic, having them as main characters causes plot issues because when they start killing unicorns and drinking children's souls, they lose likability. And then, the price is humanity. Sure you can do that cool laser-shooting thing, sir, or you can turn people into insects, chick, but no one likes you. Even the evil witch in Once Upon a Time gets emo about that.

Apparently there isn't any magic without paying involved. Where are the characters who are like, "Hey I can breathe ice like in that one episode of Powerpuff Girls, that's pretty cool, I think I'll go finish reading To Kill a Mockingbird for class now." Haven't come across one. Any person who suddenly gets magic automatically changes and becomes either really responsible (ie, saving children from burning buses) or really irresponsible (ie, stealing all the beer from the convenient store and/or catching school buses on fire, respectively.) The responsible ones always have some kind of unavoidable pressure and wish to go back to normality, and the irresponsible ones always morph into people that are completely inhuman. And I think it's because magic is synonymous to power - like if you gave a charitable person money vs a greedy person money, one would spend it to help others and one would spend it to help themselves. But with magic, it's glorified and the justice is a lot swifter. There's always a price. (Unless you're Matilda, because it all went pretty well for her, so children are exempt.)

And nothing tells stories of evil and justice better than a good fairy tale., especially when there are villains that sweat glitter. So I guess Rumpelstiltskin was right.