The Flying Troutmans (a book review)

Recommended to me by my Media Savvy mentor*, I picked up The Flying Troutmans by Miriam Toews with very few expectations. I'd read the summary which involved a road trip taken by an aunt with her niece and nephew to find the kids' absentee father. A road trip? Missing parent? Canadian writer? Count me in.

This feels like the first adult book I've read. No I don't mean "adult" in a sex way. It's not extremely mature, I mean it is, but not like that. There is some "course language" but nothing overly shocking. Realistic.

Jeez, I'm doing a really good job at this so far. Sarcasm, as Stephenie Meyer would write. How about we get on with it?

I loved that book. Not Twilight, shut up--although... yeah, never mind. Troutmans. Maybe it was the story or maybe it was the characters or maybe it was the dialog or maybe it was the road trip and all the weird and hilarious events revolving around that but no, no, it was definitely all of that stuff plus more than I can explain.

Good books rock my world. Daily.

It didn't make me rethink reality or the complexness of people or love or loss. Never mind, of course it did all of those things (a little, anyway). It didn't shift my perspective on the whole world and things might still be the same. But maybe they won't ever be.

Maybe in the end, it wasn't just a slew of quirky** characters and offbeat dialog and simply priceless scenarios or brutally beautiful realness. Maybe it was nothing but figuring out what love is and what your responsibilities are to your family and how to deal with things***. But maybe it was more. Great metaphors, gorgeous writing, a lovely, conflicted narrator/protagonist that I felt very similar to. General hilarity.

Maybe it was everything. Gah, I love life.

I recommend this to anyone who likes books that are a bit unorthadox but full of lovely, real, fun, flawed, witty, humous dynamic characters and spontaneous road trips and (in my opinion, of course) fantastic writing. You think you have adjectives? *I* have adjectives.

Good night morning.

*that's not, like, code. She's the legit mentor of my Media Savvy course.
**and I mean quirky. You think you know what the word means until you read this book. Thebes = win.
***let me tell you, these things could not be more appropriate in my life right now.

the owners of stories and the meaning of life

It's always a bit surprising to me when a television show can spark some kind of deep intellectual discussion or reflection. I don't know if that's due to my cynicism about the quality of television or something else entirely but regardless, sometimes it's nice to be surprised when Glee relights a distant train of thought such as the question of who stories belong to.

John Green was the first to introduce me to the idea that books belong to their readers. Due to that resilient idea, writers like Lemony Snicket and J.D. Salinger amaze me.* To stay completely detached from your readers, letting your only medium be your works of writing, seems very brave to me. Especially these days, when readers are only 140 characters, a blog comment or an email away from a lot of the authors who inspire them. But a short conversation after watching Glee last night was all it took to cement my belief that books do belong to their readers, just as songs belong to their listeners and words belong to their interpreters.

Something that's recently irked me about Taylor Swift is how she posts something of a story behind each of her songs on her website. For whatever reason, I'm guiltily addicted to them. Sometimes it's nice to hear that there's meaning behind the catchy lyrics that I'm always singing along to while I wash dishes.

At the same time, though, it takes me away from the song. Rather than being allowed to feel connected and related to someone else, I feel like I'm listening to Taylor Swift's story, like every part of every song is intrinsically hers. It's not very comfortable to be detached that way, with the words no longer having any relation to me but only to a girl that I don't even know. So rather than singing along and feeling like I'm anonymously part of something, like the words belong to me, I feel like I'm peering into Taylor's psyche which, however interesting, is less fulfilling. Personal connection and meaning are much more satisfying to me.

Which is probably why, when I reread books that I adore, I hardly ever think of what the author is trying to say. I don't think of the message or the themes, undertones or symbolism. Instead, I dwell on what the story means to me, what the narrator is saying to me personally and obviously that meaning is different for everyone. It's also different every time I reread a book and there's something distinctly magical about that. I love the evolution of what books and stories mean to me as I evolve as a person. It's probably one of my favourite parts of reading.

In regards to the Glee episode, I don't know what Katy Perry (or her lyricist) was thinking when she wrote or brainstormed Firework. I also don't care. In the grand scheme of things, it doesn't matter much what the song means to Katy Perry. I don't know Katy Perry and I have no inclination to know her and we are so far apart in so many ways but through this song, we are somewhat connected and that is a rather beautiful thing. What I have attempted to say with all of this is that finding meaning matters but meaning to one person is not always meaning to another person and definitions are only as solid as the people that believe in them.

Books belong to their readers and finding meaning in life is not something another person can do for you. It's a  personal quest.

p.s. This is, of course, my own opinion and you are entitled to completely, or partially, reject it.

*Yes, I just categorized Salinger and Snicket together. Feel free to react to that.

labels

For the record, I don't like being called a twig.
Or a stick.
Or a pencil.
Or skinny.

I have never called anyone a pear or an hourglass or a rectangle or a cardboard box or any other bullshit way of describing a woman's shape. Let me tell you something: it doesn't work that way.

This is me telling you that it is not okay to label my body with extraneous metaphors. I'm officially taking away the permission you never had to make comments about my figure.

I am not a stick; I am a living, breathing, beautiful, curvy* girl. And I'm 99.99999% positive that I know better than you on this one.

DON'T OBJECTIFY ME.

*my way of defining curves may be slightly different than yours or your mother's or the images represented by pop culture, but trust me, I have them. Read Looking For Alaska.

Girl Saves Boy (a book review)

As a preface to this review, I've been wanting to read this book since before it came out in Australia and New Zealand. I was introduced to Steph Bowe through a NaNoWriMo* forum, something about teens writing and being interested in publishing. I think she started the discussion, introduced herself and her upcoming debut and I was somewhat enchanted. A home schooled, teenage writer with her first book coming out? It sounded like a idealistic depiction of myself in the future (substituting home schooler for unschooler, of course).


For over a year, I've been wanting to read her book, knowing very little about the actual premise. I was eager to support a fellow teen writer and I waited as patiently as I could for the Canadian release. Yet it still hasn't been released in Canada and I actually got my copy from a friend of my mom who bought me a copy in New Zealand and brought it back for me, as arranged as a Christmas gift from my ever lovely sister.


To get to the point, my feelings on this book are kind of jumbled up. I don't know if I really liked it or if I'm being a bit more forgiving based on the context. Unfortunately--or maybe not--I cannot eliminate my personal bias but nonetheless, here is my review.


Girl Saves Boy is a dual point of view novel following Sacha Thomas and Jewel Valentine. It starts when Jewel saves Sacha from drowning and alternates between their two stories as their lives intertwine.

I liked the two main characters. They could be a little whiny at times but their lives kind of sucked and most teenagers are at least a bit whiny so it made sense. They had neat voices and it was incredibly easy to get swept along in their waves of thought and got enveloped in their emotions--mostly. The secondary characters were neat, too. Quirky, as promised by what felt like a bazillion sources, but fresh and flawed and believable. They were people who I wanted to believe existed, who I wished I could be friends with.

Sometimes I was a bit perplexed at the characters reactions. Highlight for spoiler: Who runs away after the girl they really like and wanted to kiss all night leans over and kisses them? a) It was what you wanted!! b) Stop being so self absorbed with your 'I don't deserve her' and think about how much it would suck to be rejected like that.** I do like being able to think about what choices I would have made differently but I almost felt alienated at times due to the characters absurd decisions. It's interesting to see who different characters react to different situations but I would have liked to see those reactions a little more fleshed out.

There were moments where I could have forgotten to breathe and passages that made me want to go back and reread. I didn't shed tears but I got a lump in my throat once and I did feel deeply for the characters on more than one occasion.

Two different points of view can be tricky for a writer to pull off but I thought Steph Bowe did it beautiful. Each of the narrators were distinctive enough that I wasn't confused about who was speaking but they also had a similar cadence that it didn't feel disjointed or jumpy. One problem I found with this was finishing one chapter, wanting to know what happened next and being thrown into the other character's story. It kept me reading but I was, at times, a bit frustrated.

It was a nice, real***, lovely, wonderfully told story. It wasn't the best book I read in January but there was harsh competition. Also, I'm starting to think I have a thing for Australian books. There's something just so off beat and fresh and evocative and beautiful about them. Or at least what I've read which, I'll admit, isn't a lot. Still, Aussie writers = cool.

Now I have been inspired to go back and work on my own novel so I'm going to do that and maybe one day someone will have a minor crush on me and they will be inspired by me as I have been by Steph. First, though, I must finish my novel.

Stay gold.

*This was my first NaNo, 2009.
**Yeah, sure, teenagers can be self absorbed but come now, how idiotically hurtful could you be?
***Not a boring real but an "I wish this was real because it feels like it could be" real.

do we have a world view and is it time for a new one?

I've brought my world view philosophizing here to my blog. Enjoy!

First of all, to try and narrow down some of the wordings to follow (a difficult and yet important step for any philosopher), here are a couple definitions I found for the word or phrase 'world view':
"A set of commonly held values, ideas, and images concerning the nature of reality and the role of humanity within it." -environment.nelson.com/0176169040/glossary.html
"A comprehensive meaning system, providing a frame of reference (often unconscious) for interpreting the world" -school.sufferingfools.net/Archive/RELS_357_01/Apocalyptic%20terms.doc
"A framework of ideals and values through which to interpret the world."

I frequent a Philosophers' Cafe put on by Simon Fraser University that's held at my library once a month. The topics range from all different types of philosophy. I've been going about six months now and really enjoy it.

The latest topic was phrased, "Is it time for a new world view?" and though I was curious to see how the presenter (we have a different one every month) would define that, I was somewhat disappointed by the actual event. At the beginning we had something of a visualization of the future and the woman who led the cafe started right in on what kind of values she thought our new world view should harness (empathy, environmental awareness, respect, love). Meanwhile, I was stuck back on the question of whether we needed a different world view. While everyone else seemed to be venturing idealistically further into what humanity needs to change about the world, I still had some different questions in the back of my mind.

The demographic at this cafe is mostly older, educated men and women. I'm the youngest person there by a couple decades at least (as of yet) so I think it's interesting to see how perspectives can change from generation to generation. Personally, I can be a bit jaded so when it comes to looking at the world. I try not to let pressing issues make me bitter but sometimes everything looks pretty bleak. So as I was listening to everyone agreeing with each other about how important empathy is, I was asking myself if such a thing as a world view even exists.

I don't know if there's any possible way for everyone on this planet to see anything the same way. Yes, everyone in the room that night could agree that empathy was important but could they agree on a finite definition of the word? And could they draw a line of empathy, deciding who was worthy and who wasn't? I'm skeptical that they could and they're all living in the same town. Think of what would happen if you (hypothetically) brought the entire world into a room and asked them to agree on values.

I got frustrated that everyone was speaking about dreams of the future when what I, as a young person, want to see is action. What use is it to talk about the importance of love if you do nothing to change the state of our world? And before you get excited about what our future world view looks like, can you please tell me what a world view even is and what our current world view looks like?

So I put a few questions out to you, whoever is reading this. Think about it. Respond if you like. Either way, thanks for reading this.

1. What is your definition of the term 'world view'?
2. How do you quantify a world view? (i.e. should we be looking towards our government, our marginalized people, our teachers and mentors, our youth or anyone else to tell us how we look at the world? Should we be examining our actions and reactions, our treatment of each other, the way our mass media portrays modern life? What are the sources for defining something so subjective?)
3. From your unique perspective, what does our world view look like? Is there any way to characterize what our world view currently is?
4. Is your personal world view different from that of mainstream society?
and last of all
5. How do you think the messages we get through mass media relate to our world view? Does media help to reflect our world view or is media actively helping to shape it?

Unfortunately, there's no way I can make all of this makes sense to everyone so ask your own questions if you have them and I'll do my best to answer.
I'm eager to hear all of your responses on this.

birthday excitement - what happened to goodbye

No, it's not my birthday. Or even close really. It's 111 days away, in case you were curious. Oh? You weren't? Yes, you were. You definitely, definitely were. I know things. *glances shiftily from side to side*

Back to talking about my birthday. Oh? We weren't until I brought it up? Well, now we are. Props to D.W. for that delightful conversation controller.

What is happening on my seventeenth birthday, May 10, 2011, you ask? Sarah Dessen's new book. And this is exciting to me. If it isn't exciting to you too, you may stop reading this blog whenever is most convenient to you.

Still reading? Excellent.

I started reading Sarah Dessen's books about two and a half years ago and have since eagerly awaited each new release. No, her books aren't the most surprising or exceedingly literary or even breathtakingly beautiful but I have come to like what I can expect. Sarah Dessen knows how to write teen romance. And I am a hopeless romantic (when it comes to reading).

Add these together and you have love.

Thus, when I hear of contests to win ARCs of her books which, unlike her last release (Along for the Ride) I do not already have*, I must enter. Hence this blog. I realize that having an ARC will ruin the fact that it's coming out on my birthday but I am a contest fanatic. The fact that I am not usually the winner does nothing to deter me. I must submit my entry!

If you would like to join me in my fanaticism, here is the link. If you win, will you lend it to me? *smiles*

*My lovely mother works in a bookstore and sometimes brings home ARCs. Such was the case before Along for the Ride came out but, unfortunately, not for What Happened To Goodbye. Ah, connections.

too nostalgic

My sisters are purported communists who like to say things like 'kidnapping' and 'smuggling' and 'firearms' at the border. They're the type to laugh too loudly in the movie theater and at the dinner table and walking down the street and even in the library that they frequent almost too often.
****
I feel way too nostalgic for sixteen. I've hardly lived at all--not true, but for argument's sake--and yet I dwell on the past as well as the present. Is it possible to be nostalgic for this moment and the fact that it won't last forever (only maybe it will)? I think I am.

January 4th might be a nice day to spend forever in. I almost don't want to write this, lest my life become some Groundhog Day-esque situation where I relive January 4th for all of eternity. But honestly, it wouldn't be too bad. Yes, it's cold and it would be a kind of torture to never go forward in time but still. We're all together, in one place at one time. There's money in the bank and very little in the cupboards that I can eat on a whim but that's fine. There are cheesy family pictures to be taken and vacant comfy chairs at Starbucks to be pushed together. There's 6:30 reservations and cheesecake for dessert. There's three sisters and two parents who will love me no matter what.

What more could I want/need/ask for? If today is as good as it gets, maybe that's enough.

"Forever has no meaning when you're living in the moment." - Impulse by Ellen Hopkins

p.s. It occurs to me that I haven't been very funny as of late. Never fear, readers, the year is young.