Female Seeking...

So, the cousin and I had a deal that if I didn't meet someone by my next birthday in real life, I'd sign up on a dating site.  My birthday is Thursday.

Internet dudes....oh no, serial killers!  Skin-stealers!

Never mind that most of the couples I know aren't anything to be envious of.

I'm pretty sure I've done this before, but I'll have to look.  But let's see, if I were really honest about what I wanted:

Victor Barinov from Bite Me by Shelly Laurenston.  I mean, seriously, every time I read that book, I swoon.  He's just so perfect!  Actually, he has an anti-perfection agenda, but still.

-Must be sweet.

-Accepts the fact I'm an asshole, but makes me wish I were less of one.

-Must like Elton John, and MASH, and all sorts of things.  You know, we need to have some stuff in common.

-OR, if we don't have much in common, must be useful, like a mechanic or carpenter.  If he can't talk books with me, he can at least build me bookshelves or be able to change the oil in my car and keep it running because I know shit about cars.

-Must kill the bugs without being a jerk about it.

-Monogamous, because I feel like nowadays I have to say that.

-Scottish maybe?  Complete with accent and kilt!  ;-)  Wishful thinking I know.  ::sigh::

My cousin's been asking what sort of person I want.  The truth is, I don't know.  Some people I take to right away, and others take forever for me to get used to.  It just depends.

Honestly, I still don't want to get my hopes up.

You ever see those forever alone memes?

How do I put this...?

I started reading the Harry Potter books.  Yes, yes, I'm still at home.  Yes, yes, Mom doesn't know.  Please don't tell her.

I got them on my Kindle, so there's no actual evidence that I own them.

Anyway, I just finished book 5.  I have enjoyed them.  I like them.  I think they're great.

I hate everyone who has ever demonized them.

I should have been able to read these growing up, dammit!

I could've been one that grew up with the characters.  I should've been there to see the movies when they came out.

On the bright side, I can binge-read them (although I didn't thus far) and I don't have to wait for release dates!  I can also binge-watch all the movies, for the first time, if I ever can manage it.

I had to take a break after book 4.  I just had to.  I was too shaken.  And there are 28 books (I counted them on my Goodreads reading challenge) between 4 and 5.  I thought it was only about 5 or 6 books ago, maybe only a month ago that I read book 4.  No, no, it was back in April.  I whizzed through 5.  I probably won't have the series finished by the end of this month, but I'll probably be done before the end of August.

I'm trying not to think about my upcoming birthday.  Or the fact I've accomplished so little in 24 years.  I'm trying not to think about tying bricks around my ankles and jumping in the bayou.

A change of reading material, you see, was definitely in order.  Something that was positive in the shitstorm that I've made my life.  Yes, I know, it's my fault, my decisions, my stupidity.  Now I have to fix it, because damn sure nobody else will.  Easier said than done.

I haven't read much fantasy this year.  But I see myself falling in love with the genre all over again.  When you're life sucks, you don't like any better what's going on in Mordor, but it sure beats the hell out of staying where you are.

THAT is worth everything.  And if any of you religious types don't like it, you're probably not good company anyway.

I'm Not Nice

There is a certain cynicism that comes with growing up in church.  Or maybe that's just me, because I grew up in church and grew up in a legalistic home and now I'm picking up the shards of my broken faith and trying to piece together something akin to a spirituality.

Today was not the first time I've heard the Gospel (thank you, Brennan Manning).  I think it was the first time I heard it from a pulpit though.

....  

I will be 24 my next birthday.  I have grown up in church.  Why is this the first time?

I have accepted that the Church had made many mistakes.  That I have made plenty more.

I will hold myself accountable for my mistakes.  I will not go easy on the Church for theirs.

I think this boils down to:

I have a lot of resentment against the Church.  I need to forgive the Church, and my family, for wrongs, real or otherwise, done against me.  No one's perfect, and these people never claimed to be.

Fair enough.

Review, Sort of, On The Ragamuffin Movie

Father’s Day weekend, I bought Ragamuffin, a film based on the life of, you guessed it, Rich Mullins.

It’s been sitting on my desk ever since. 

I’ve had writer’s block, been doing some productive reading, and keeping my head afloat school-wise.  I work six days this week.

So, my life kinda sucks right now.

I tried to write today, but I don’t know what story to work on, or what to write for those stories.  I put on the Rich Mullins, just to soothe myself a little, and eventually, just gave up and lay down.  If I can’t be productive, I may as well be comfortable, and bury my face in a warm blanket and call it a day.

I don’t consider myself a Christian much anymore.  I believe in God, and by extension Jesus—you can’t grow up in a Judeo-Christian worldview home and completely abandon everything you’ve been taught.  Or, 

I can’t anyway.  I’m INFP (that’s my excuse, and I’m sticking to it! O.o)

I got The Itch.  The last time I got The Itch, I read Carrie.  Loved it, by the way.  Well, I don’t know if I loved it, but I will certainly never forget it and may re-read it someday.  I appreciate it, I guess you could say.  But I digress.

It’s been Itching.  Like sometimes a book will say, “Jadi, Jadi, read me, read me,” for a few days or so until I’m Ready For It, and this movie has just been kind of whispering, “Soon.  Soon.”

Today, I decided, “Today’s the day.”

I’m well aware of how crazy this sounds.

So I popped it in my computer (I got rid of my TV and DVD player), and sat down to watch it.

It wasn’t really what I expected.  They left out snippets of “The Jesus Record.”  Just a little snippet of him at the piano playing one of those songs, and not “Be With You”—which is a great song, but still—would have been cool.  And something about Canticles of the Plains and there was a lot of stuff I wanted to see but they didn’t put in the film.

Beside the point. 

I watched it because while I was listening to the music, I was reminded of how soothing Rich Mullins’s voice is.  How soothing the music is.  Some people don’t like it, well, a lot of people don’t like it, but I always did.  I don’t know why.

Lacey told me one time it was because of his dramatic death, and I’m a writer, so I like dramatic stuff.  Her words, not mine.

Um, I was six when I got into Rich  Mullins, and I don’t know if I had a flair for the dramatic yet.  I remember liking the idea of someone giving their life to God, and let’s face it, the fact the guy was dead did have some sort of impact on my six-year-old self.  Pity of a child perhaps for a dead person?  Maybe.   I do remember feeling sorry for someone that gave their life to God, and then dying the way he did.

The other thing I remember is that Ray Boltz was Mom’s favorite.  Carmen was my sister’s favorite.  Rich Mullins needed to be someone’s favorite.  Might as well have been mine.

As I got a little older, I found some of his other albums. My mother and sister still prefer Songs, but I think my favorite album is probably The World as Best as I Remember It, Volume 2.    My favorite song is “Elijah,” which is on the first album, Songs, and on any greatest hits album; and a close second being, “Growing Young,” which is on The World as Best as I Remember It, Volume 2. 

It’s an interesting film.  Not bad for something that was probably low budget.  Makes me want to revisit The Ragamuffin Gospel and read all those Brennan Manning books I have in my Scribd library.  Nobody ever got through to me like Brennan Manning, or could make me cry/tear up.  I doubt I would even bother contemplating the notion of Jesus if not for Manning.  I loved the bits with him in it, and I was heartbroken when I heard he’d died.  But moving on...

I didn’t want to watch it at first.  I was a Rich Mullins fan and why were they just now waiting to make this movie and what if it isn’t any good, what if it ruins my image of him...?

Anyway, I told myself again and again I wouldn’t bother with it.  But then I started looking in WalMart and saw it, and bought it on impulse.  It was there, and why not?

I want someone I know to watch it, so I can talk about it with them.

Um, What?: Reading Edition

I would like to say this post is ‘cause I’m a snooty college student majoring in psychology, but in reality, this is about reading.  First, last, and always, I am a bibliophile.

This started a few books ago, during one of the splendid Codex Alera books that I paused, took a moment, and actually looked at the words.  I was trying to see how the sentences were crafted and get a sense of style.  I mean, I love Jim Butcher’s books.  They’re easy to read, fast-paced, and basically chocolate for the glutton.  If there’s anyone’s style I’d like to study, it’d be his or Lloyd Alexander’s.

After about two paragraphs, I kinda shook my head.  It was just words. Words forming sentences, that formed paragraphs, that told one of the best stories I’d ever read.  But it was just words.

I dismissed that notion.  No reader worth their library believes books are just words.

When I’m reading, really reading, into-the-story, not-putting-it-down, I see the words on the page, can even sometimes remember where it was at on the page if I want to find it again.  There’s not a lot visual going on for me.  I get impressions of images and voices and people; in other words, not the mini-mind-movie other people talk about.  And, um, I read romance and romantic smut.  During a love scene, I don’t want a visual so much as I want to figure out how in the blazes is that position even possible?  And, how big is this bed?  But I digress.

I’ve done some semi-research on what books do for your brain.  Everyone agrees:  reading is good for you.  But what exactly is going on?

Well, here I am at the Carey library, bored out of my mind between classes; hungry because I have no cash on me so I can’t eat (I’m broke till Thursday anyway); stressed because I don’t get the statistics homework; stressed even more because I don’t have my textbooks yet and can’t do the assigned reading; disappointed because I thought I was just going take some time to re-read The Name of the Wind by Patrick Rothfuss, which is a splendid book, but a heavy one and I’m having as much trouble with it the second time around as I did the first time around; dejected because I just finished the latest Pride series book, the list goes on…;  and with nothing better to do, or able to do, I’m Googling what’s going on in the brain whilst reading.

And here’s what I found:

Okay, so it’s common knowledge the words evoke images.  What I found interesting was that the brain doesn’t bother with much distinction between your real life experiences, and the experiences you read through in fiction.

So, there’s no distinction between reading Frodo going to Mordor, and actually going into Mordor yourself?  If you read it, your brain thinks you did it?

And the readers go, Huh?  Me too, readers.  Me too.

But seriously, both articles say it.  (I looked at a couple, but these were the two I really liked.)

Although, considering the commitment required to read Lord of the Rings, yeah, it feels like you went to Mordor.  Heck, it feels like that just watching the movies.  You’re slightly exhausted at the end, and not quite yourself anymore.  Or at least that’s how I felt when I finished watching all three movies in a short span of time to expose the little brother to them after watching the first two Hobbit movies.

So, when there’s the reader memes saying you’ve lived a thousand lives?  Well, there’s scientific evidence to back that up.

“The brain, it seems, does not make much of a distinction between reading about an experience and encountering it in real life; in each case, the same neurological regions are stimulated.”

http://www.nytimes.com/2012/03/18/opinion/sunday/the-neuroscience-of-your-brain-on-fiction.html?pagewanted=all&_r=0

Have your ever felt so connected to a story that it’s as if you experienced it in real life? There’s a good reason why: your brain actually believes that you have experienced it.

http://oedb.org/ilibrarian/your-brain-on-books-10-things-that-happen-to-our-minds-when-we-read/

They don’t quite say the same thing, but the point remains.

Interesting.  In that case, can I put that I saved Prydain with Taran, Chicago (and the rest of the world) with Harry Dresden, and Daneland with Beowulf on my resume?  What?  My brain thinks it did those things.

I just wanted to see what the deal was with reading something that was just words, that’s not just words.  And somehow, I wandered off the reservation, and now I'm questioning every experience I thought I had and all the ones I read.  They’re some interesting articles though.  Verra verra interestin’.

"Never Alone," and other Powerful Statements

I finished "The Blackwood" by Wayne Thomas Batson at something like 12-1 o'clock in the morning yesterday.  January 4th, that is.  After the story, there's a little "surprise."  I won't spoil it, but I have to wonder if "The Blackwood" was the wrapping, and the surprise was the real gift.

Not that "The Blackwood" isn't great.  IT IS.  It is so freaking great.  Mr. Batson can spin a fun story like nobody's business.  Like Lloyd Alexander, except blatantly Christian, and a little lengthier.

That may not sound like a big deal to you, but it's a compliment from me, believe me.

Oh shoot, I AM going to have to spoil the surprise.  It had such an effect on me.

It's a special epilogue to The Door Within series. I'll not spoil it entirely, but, King Eliam says this:

"But in all that time, you were still in my hands.  You were never alone.  Even if you had fallen, what harm could have come to you?"

Aidan points out he could've died.

"And you did die, Aidan....valiantly.  But for my children, death has no sting, no lasting bite.  Before your breath ended there, your first breath began here."

There is an unbelievable amount of power in those statements.

It fits with the motto of the series:  "Never alone."

I never thought a mere two words could be so powerful.

I think it's something kind of sick how fantasy--quite possibly the bane of the serious critic's existence--is so powerful, especially children's fantasy.  I remember seeing once that people think it's only a great children's story if it conveys some great lesson.  But a great children's story can also be one that just causes the child to smile.

I agree with that, and not.  Lloyd Alexander and Wayne Batson are both chock full of lessons, intended or not.  But on the same token, I don't know if there's a greater lesson to Vesper Holly, and I love them anyway (but I never recall calling them great, just fun, so I don't know).

Lloyd Alexander has a lot of powerful statements in his books.

In The Foundling, Dallben is given The Book of Three.  He loved knowledge and sought wisdom.  He despaired at first when he saw all of the awful things in the book.  But then:

"The book lay nearby.  Its last pages still unread and, for a moment, Dallben thought to tear them to shreds and scatter them to the wind.  Then he said:

"'I have begun it, and I will finish it, whatever else it may foretell.'

"Fearfully and reluctantly, he began to read once more.  But now his heart lifted.  These pages not only told of death, but of birth as well; how the earth turns in its own time and in its own way gives back what it given it; how things lost may be found again; and how one day ends for another to begin.  He learned that the lives of men are short and filled with pain, yet each one a priceless treasure, whether it be that of a prince or a pig-keeper.  And, at the last, the book taught him that while nothing was certain, all was possible.

"'At the end of knowledge, wisdom begins,' Dallben murmured.  'And at the end of wisdom there is not grief, but hope.'"

That's powerful.  That's dragons can be beaten talk.  It's all sorts of wonderful.

And, of course, there's from the Prydain books proper.

"It is easy to judge evil unmixed. But, alas, in most of us good and bad are closely woven as the threads on a loom; greater wisdom than mine is needed for the judging.”
― Lloyd Alexander, The Black Cauldron
I loved that.  It's amazing.

“Life's a forge -

Yes, and hammer and anvil, too. You'll
be roasted, smelted, and pounded, and
you'll scarce know what's happening to
you. But stand proudly to it. Metal's
worthless till it is shaped and
tempered. More labor than luck. Face
the pounding, don't fear the proving;
and you'll stand well against any
hammer and anvil.”
― Lloyd Alexander, The High King
I read in another book, a romance, the hero says Jesus may have been a carpenter, but the Father was a blacksmith.

Fine picture, that.

Thought-provoking.  Powerful.  In children's literature.  When I come across things like that, it makes me wish I had read more as a child.  Maybe things would've been different, and it makes me wonder if I could've spared myself a lot of heartache.

Never alone.



*Quotes taken from Goodreads and my highlighted notes from my Kindle, no copyright infringement intended.

My Year in Review

Three days left for 2013.  I’m one book short of my reading challenge.  I have bookmarks in, like, 6-7 books though.  Ha ha, not all of that is going to get finished, and I don’t want to take the bookmarks out.  I’ll just subract them from next year’s reading challenge when I DO finish them.

I have a 12-15 page paper due when I return to classes in February that I really, really need to get started on.  Not to mention a presentation due the second week I’m back.

I’m still working, although I hate working and being in school at the same time. It’s hard, and my writing and reading has suffered for it.

The first six months of this year were employed by taking care of the animals, reading, and general job-hunting, and the closest thing to an existential crisis I can have.

Come July, things started looking up.  I got a job.  I know since I’ve started working, I’ve bought over 100 books. Over 100 books in six months.  Feeding an addiction is tough, man.

I started school in August, and turned 21.  I’ve gambled and drank.  I’ve settled back into college life as well as I can manage.  I guess I’m happy where I am now.  As happy as can be expected.  I’ve written and read a little something-something.

My New Year’s Resolutions are

1, and most important:  Keep track of just how many books I buy & how much I spend in a calendar year.  Meaning, come January 1^st, I shall start keeping a log, just for the fun of it.  Because I’m curious about my strange addiction to buying books.

2, and also important:  Quit procrastinating.  But I’m waiting till after the first to do this.  I’m putting off putting off.

3, and very, very important too:  Find a church or ministry to get plugged in with so that I may tithe.  I’ve tithed here and there, but not much, and it’s not as if I can’t afford to tithe.  I shouldn’t be able to afford not to.  So, I shall find a church, or a ministry that needs funds.

4, not so important, but here you are anyway:  To read more classic books, and less romance. It’s not that important, and I’m not ashamed of my love for all things historical romance.  However, I’ve only read a handfull of classics, and that’s sad for a self-proclaimed bookworm.  At the same time, while I know other kids had an understanding far surperior to mine as it is now, I’m kind of glad I put off reading the classics till adulthood.  New adulthood, at any rate.  See here.

5, again not important:  to lose weight, get healthy, and, oh my gosh.  Thank you for laughing, because that’s a big fat joke.  Pun intended.

Digressing Rant:  Seriously, why wait until the New Year for that?  Because you wish to indulge during the holidays?  Do it.  Doesn’t matter. To my mind, it’s all about your breaking point.  When you really want to make that change, really, you will do it.  If it’s important, you make time.  If not, you make an excuse.  Going on with the cliches, when you hit rock bottom, there’s nowhere to go but up.  Maybe when I’m morbidly obese.  Maybe when I feel the need to attract a husband, or just one date before I get myself to a nunnery.  I don’t have a reason to want it badly enough, not right now.  I want it, yes, but not that bad.  Not as bad as I need to support my book habit.  Not as bad as I like ice cream.  Maybe someday.  But not today.  A healthy choice here and there spaced out between months at a time is still good.  For now.  I haven’t gone up a pants size this year, but I haven’t lost one either. Oh well.  Okay, rant over.

6, again, not as important:  to read and write more.  Obviously I have my good and bad days, but I try to do this all the time anyway.  I mark my calendar and everything now.  I didn’t do as well as I would have liked between work and school the past six months, but I’m learning.  Regardless of whether it’s a NYR or not, it’ll always be something to strive for.

So, my year’s been full of ups and downs.  It’s been a lot of growing up.  It’s been working.  It’s been getting a car, and having to pay bills.  It’s going into debt because I took out a student loan.  It’s been reading a lot and writing a lot.  It’s been emotional trauma between the Dresden Files and the Valisar trilogy.  It’s been realizing things about myself I don’t like and things I can live with.  It’s been twists of heaven and hell into that complicated thing we call life.

Bring it, 2014.  I’m ready as I’ll ever be.

Sweet Validation

It my least favo—rite time of the year!

(To be sang to, “It’s the most wonderful time of the year!”)

I hate when I read something in a wonderful book, and then can’t find it later.

I was doing my year-end scramble, trying to finish up all these books I have bookmarks in, you know.  One was What On Earth Have I Done? by Robert Fulghum.  You know the guy.  Everything I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten.

He spends time in Crete, and the Cretans go way out for Easter more than they do for Christmas.  Fulghum’s not a Christian, but heaven help him if scandal is attached to his name because he didn’t celebrate Easter with them!

Their reasoning is that birthdays are common.  Everyone has a birthday.  Not everybody dies and comes back.  

I wish I could find the passage!

I’d never thought of it that way.  Christmas is a fomality.  Easter is a celebration.

I have my own views and thoughts about the world, about myself, near about everything that’s ever crossed my mind.  When I find something that shares my opinion, or  confirms what I thought I knew, it makes me feel like I am not alone after all, and that maybe I do have some of the intelligence everyone claims I have.

My other favorite moment of validation was looking at a list of famous INFPs (which is my personality type most often).  I’m the same personality type as Hans Christian Andersen.

HANS.  CHRISTIAN.  ANDERSEN.  It’s also the suspected personality type of Tolkien, Lewis, Rowling, Woolf, Milne, Watterson, Warhol, Van Gogh, Antoine Saint Exupery...

That’s all great too.  I know I’m a writer, a dreamer, sometimes even an artist.  I knew all that.

But I’m the same freaking personality type of Hans Christian Andersen.  It was encouraging.  Not that I ever have any doubts about what I’m meant to be (oh dear, my pants are on fire), but it’s a source of validation.  It’s in me, all I gotta do is believe in myself (and now I feel like puking for the triteness).  And follow my heart (gag).

 Validation is also my way of getting out of things.  I’ve been on the fence about the Fifty Shades of Grey books since I've heard about them.  My thing about popular books is that if it didn’t catch my attention before it was popular, and I check it out now, just to see, and it’s not something I want to read, I fail to see why I should read a book just because it’s popular.

Life is too short to read books you’re not certain you’ll care for.  Life is also too short to pass a possibly good book up.

But I don’t like BDSM.  I’ve tried to read it in the past.  I didn’t like it.  I quit.  I’ve heard things about Fifty Shades portraying an unhealthy relationship.  I don’t like those either.  I can forgive a lot in a heroine, but I will not forgive an a-hole hero.  I don’t make a habit of reading serious literature.  Give me healthy relationships, and dragons, thank you, please, ma’am.  I save the dysfunctions for real life.

I spend a lot of time on the Smart Bitches, Trashy Books website.  It’s a great resource for romance books.  “All of the romance, none of the bullshit.”

Fifty Shades got reviewed there, and they gave it a “did not finish."  So...

“Sweet validation!  Now I don’t have to read it!”  Really, those were my thoughts on the matter.

But the truth was, like anything else, I was looking for excuses not to read it.  I don’t do contemporary romance.  I don’t do popular fiction (why no, I haven’t read the Hunger Games, nor do I ever plan to).

I think it would be different if they were in genres I actually have any dream of writing.  I don’t want to write YA.  I don’t want to write BDSM Erotic romance.  Or dystopia.  Or contemporary romance.  My genres are historical (Regency) romance and fantasy.  Those are my thing.  Had it been those genres, I would have picked them up out of sheer duty to my genres (although that still doesn't explain why Game of Thrones has been sitting on my shelf since late 2011, still unread).

And I don’t like jumping on bandwagons for nothing.  When I looked up the Dresden Files, I wanted to read them.  And I only have 2 books left.  I was on the fence about Kingkiller, but I regret nothing.  Those are some intimidating books, but they're awesome too. The same went for Riyria Revelations.  Well, actually, I just saw those and wanted them once they popped up in my recommendations.  How could I not?  I finally got them, and I read Theft of Swords.  Good stuff, that.  Good, good, GOOD stuff.

I shouldn’t need validation.  I shouldn’t have to explain my actions, nor feel guilty for not liking Jesus’ birthday (but in my defense, it’s really not his birthday, as he was born in the fall), or being an insecure about my writing destiny (I’m in good company there), or even skipping a book everybody else loves (I probably won’t like it, I know I won’t, I know!).

Still, it’s human to want to be part of a group, I think.  No man (or insecure college girl) is an island.  Nor would I wish to be.

The Gilmour Article, Romance, and My Pet Peeves

I have this developing misanthrope.  And I'm starting to feel it even toward my fellow readers.

First, because I'm just going to say a few short lines on the matter:  the way the book world responded to the Gilmour article was returning douchebuggery for douchebuggery.  So an academic had an opinion.  Big whoop.  I read the article.  The guy's an a-hole.  Period.

Being a reader means being open-minded.  It means understanding and accepting that people are going to have different opinions than you.

The guy's not a reader.  He's a professor.  And guess what?  The guy teaches short fiction.  Guess what else?  The Americans and the Russians dominate that field in classic literature.  Any lit teacher will tell you that.  You can't change history.

I was ashamed of my fellow readers when I heard the outcry.  Y'all know better.

To quote Christina Dodd from her Read-A-Romance-Month article, it's about romance, but it goes for all book-bashing, really:

"It’s become an internet standard that if a psychologist/book columnist/writer of “more important” fiction, wants attention, s/he posts a “Romance is stupid” article. Frankly, the organ that creates my outrage is exhausted. I can’t get excited (again), when someone I don’t know, don’t care about, will never hear of again, bashes my genre. [emphais mine]

....

So it’s time for us romance readers and writers to pull up our big girl panties and stop arguing with the willfully ignorant, and stop worrying about whether we are respected.

....

— According to a study cited by Dr. Joyce Brothers, women who read romance novels make love seventy-four percent more often than women who don’t read romance novels.

— According to special research from the British Medical Journal, the more orgasms you have, the longer you’re likely to live.

Assuming those studies are true, we don’t need to “read stuff that will make you look good if you die in the middle of it.” We romance readers are going to outlive all the critics anyway.

Full Article HERE

And on the topic of romance, I hate when I see books gave me unrealistic expectations about men.  I mean, I have a special hatred in my heart for that crap--right there with my special hatred for reality TV.  Girls, you've obviously never read a romance, WHICH ARE ACTUALLY ABOUT LOVE AND RELATIONSHIPS.

Those guys aren't perfect.  They're screwy, stupid, dominating/posessive, afraid of committment, you-name-it.  In some cases, misogynistic.

But that's why we love them.  I will admit, romance books probably gave me unrealistic expectactions about sex (I'm a virgin, what do I really know anyway? and even romance writers will say it's unrealistic), but not about the male of the species.  Men will be men, and women will be women.  We're different, but we complete each other.  Yin and yang.  The two become one.  All that.

Frankly, I think it's mostly girls that are into YA saying it/making the memes.  Girls, that is NOT where to look for your standards for a relationship/husband.  And you're too young to be thinking about that anyway.

Maybe I'm being overly critical.  Maybe because I'm terminally single and I don't even think an idiot out there exists for me.  However, probably more because I read a lot of adult romance, and I don't have a long list of things I'd want in a potential husband.  Because I don't read YA and am not sensitive to the matter.

If I learned anything from romance novels, it's that you never wind up with the kind of person you thought you would, or what you thought you wanted.  He'll annoy you.  And you'll have to learn to work as a team.  You might even hate him at first.  He might be a little dense.  He will not, under any circumstances, be perfect.  He will be a guy.

And this, because I love it so:

Maybe There Is Some Accounting For Taste

My favorite singer is Rich Mullins.  He said, and I've posted this before, is that when you're writing a song, you take sentiments, and market them.  "But no matter how cheap my words become to me, the truth is still the truth."

Every hit song that ever topped the charts, if it wasn't one of the funny songs, had some deep truth to it, set perfectly to some chords of music.  At least, in country and Christian radio.  I don't listen to pop or rock or rap, so I don't know.  But for those two genres, it's a sure thing, or it always seemed so.

I think back to some overplayed songs.  "I Can Only Imagine."  "Who Am I."  "Grace Like Rain."  I feel a little bad I can't think of more.  At any rate, I couldn't stand the first two.  I still don't care for "I Can Only Imagine."  I'm also not a big fan of MercyMe or Casting Crowns.  I love Todd Agnew's music though.

I don't know why I always liked Rich Mullins, but I know why I appreciate his music now.  First of all, the compositions--the music itself--is beautiful.  The blend of instruments and the rhythms.  I'm pretty sure I could just listen to the instrumental versions of those songs.  And then you add these lyrics of the reckless raging fury that they call the love of God.

Enter in the Ragamuffin Band.  Rick Elias sings of the Man who loved the weak with relentless affection.  Mark Robertson sings of this man who the whores loved and the drunks proposed a toast to.

As I've said in my last post, I've lived a pretty good life.  I think a reason I don't like a lot of singers/songs is that I can't relate to it.  I've never been hurt so hard I've held a grudge for years.  I had a happy childhood.  I grew up in church listening to Revelation sermons.

Overall, a pretty peaceful existence, in it's own chaotic, everyday way.

...and then I started reading and not caring what other people thought.  When I was younger, it wasn't cool to read, so I didn't.  Still not cool, but I do it anyway.  Then my uncle got me three books for Christmas one year, seventh grade, late 2004, and then I just stopped caring what other people thought.  Well, I don't think I ever did, but that was asking to get picked on, and I don't think I had friends that really approved of it.  Anyway, I stopped giving a darn.  I wanted to read about dragons and ghosts and fairies and all that fun stuff.

...and then I figured out I liked writing.  I wrote stories before then, but sporadically.  Something clicked through September-November of 2005.  It probably had something to do with being bumped from baby of the family into middle child limbo.

That's when the unbalance started, or maybe I was always unbalanced, and I just didn't know it until I started reading and writing.  There's still a debate on whether writing makes you unbalanced, or your unbalance makes you write.  For the record, crazy runs in my family.

Anyway, I like songs about people who have lived through struggles, but they don't speak to me on a level that they would someone who had lived through it.  And as far as country music...I've never been in a relationship and a lot of country music is love songs, and I have my fair share of favorites.  There used to be a time where I didn't care.  They are beautiful sentiments.  Now it just bugs me because I have no one to think about.  I don't even crush anymore.  Thus, I don't listen to it nearly as much as I used to.  (Which is funny, because I still read romances.)

With Rich Mullins, it's not something you have to relate to.  Or you can, but it's universal.  It's Everyman.  My friends don't care for him.  He puts them to sleep, he's too slow, you know.

-Cesar Cruz

That's what I like about him.  He's peaceful.  I have enough going on in my own mind without listening to a song that's supposed to be entertainment anyway.  I need peace.  It's fine to listen to "Do Something" by Matthew West in the car.  If I'm comfortable, I need to be disturbed.  But when I'm writing/thinking about my story, which is most of the time, I want to be comforted.

Rich Mullins [and the Ragamuffin Band] is probably the only singer I can really write to.  (I can write to instrumental music.  There's something about trying to keep up with a tune by one of the masters that gets the words out.)   Rich Mullins was my first foray into Christian music, and you never forget your first.  I've listened to country my entire life.  I've known the words to "Should've Been A Cowboy" and "Ten Thousand Angels" for as long as I can remember.  I've been listening to Rich Mullins since I'm six or seven, and this was after his death.  That doesn't seem like a long time, and it's not, but that's still most of my short life.

At the beginning of Paul's letters in the New Testament, he says, "Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ." (HCSB)  Those are some of my favorite verses.  Rich Mullins has a song called, "Peace."  It's a communion blessing.  Sometimes I think the entire song was based upon those verses.  The intro has a full minute of music.  And the lyrics do what it should to a disturbed person:  they calm.

And may peace rain down from Heaven

Like little pieces of the sky

Little keepers of the promise

Falling on these souls

This drought has dried

In His Blood and in His Body

In the Bread and in this Wine

Peace to you

Peace of Christ to you

How to Be A (Decent) American

*be aware, I write from a Judeo-Christian worldview*

1.  Thou shalt be respectful.  It's okay to be opinionated, and we have the 1st Amendment for a reason.  That doesn't give you the right to be rude and disrespectful.


2.  Thou shalt pay attention in thine history class.  Benjamin Franklin was never a President, although he was a Founding Father.  He was also the one with the kite.  Columbus was Italian, but sailed for Spain.  He landed in the West Indies.  You should know what the West Indies are.


3.  Thou shalt not just complain, but thou shalt also do.  Yes, if you vote, you can complain BUT complaining's not enough.  If you really want things to change, petition.  Protest.  Be respectful and know your stuff, but don't just talk.


4.  Thou shalt work hard.  THAT is the American Dream.  People came to this country with nothing and worked hard and made a better life.  We're not even 300 years old.  We can still do this.


5.  Thou shalt be independent.  And by this, I mean independent of the Government.  The Lord may giveth and taketh away, and blesseth be the name of the Lord, but the government is not God.  This goes with #4.


6.  Thou shalt teach thine children right.  Don't leave it to the school systems.  You teach your kids right from wrong.


7.  Thou shalt understand that a healthy society has many components.  Home life, education, community, religion, security...  When one lacks, pick up the pace.


8.  Thou shalt read.  Most importantly, the Bible and Robert Fulghum.  Whether you're a Christian or not, the Bible has some good ideas.  Robert Fulghum isn't a Christian, but he's freaking amazing.  I have a lot of respect for him.  If the Bible can't be required reading, All I Really Need To Know I Learned in Kindergarten should be.  You shouldn't be allowed to leave government-mandated schooling until you've read him.


9.  Thou shalt remember to be human.  You are not a mindless drone.  You are not simply a cog in the wheel.  You are you.  Make mistakes, and forgive yourself for them.


10.  Thou shalt never be comfortable.  Humanity has always tried to be something or find something greater to be or believe in.  Dream.  Aspire.  Pray.  Grow.