Think back to your favorite song. Do you think your eyes light up when you hear those first opening bars of music?
Most people know I'm a country music fanatic. One of my favorite songs is "My Maria"* by Brooks & Dunn. I love those first opening bars of music. (I think that's why it's one of my favorites, actually.) It's really upbeat and it's just a few notes. Those few notes go a long way.
As far as opening lines go...
"Well, I love her/but I love to fish." - "I'm Gonna Miss Her"* by Brad Paisley <--One of my favorite opening lines to a song.
Okay, let's go to books now before I launch into all my favorite country songs. Or songs of other genres for that matter.
*Neither of those YouTube links go to the official videos. The official videos have advertisements.
In your favorite book, is the opening line your favorite part? Or even the first scene? An opening hook can make or break a book for me whether or not I'll read it. Since books speak for themselves, here's some best-sellers/well-known classics' openings that I was able to pull from my bookshelf:
"In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth." - (like you honestly don't recognize this passage but it's from:) Genesis 1:1, the Bible (best-selling, classic, life-manual...)
"When Mr. Bilbo Baggins of Bag End announced that he would shortly be celebrating his eleventy-first birthday with a party of special magnificence, there was much talk and excitement in Hobbiton." -(Again, do I really need to put where this one's from?) The Fellowship of the Ring, by J. R. R. Tolkien, (classic, best-seller)
"Mr. Utterson the lawyer was a man of a rugged countenance that was never lightened by a smile; cold, scanty and embarrassed in discourse; backward in sentiment; lean, long, dusty, dreary and yet somehow lovable." -Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, by Robert Louis Stevenson (classic)
"Taran wanted to make a sword; but Coll, charged with the practical side of his education, decided on horseshoes." -The Book of Three, by Lloyd Alexander (first book of a best-selling series, may be considered a children's classic)
As a reader, some of my favorite books have these lines that just suck you into the story. Now, all of those may or may not be well-known works, but I tried to stick to the classics on my own 'read' bookshelves.
Some of my personal favorite openings that may or may not be well-known:
"Linderwall was a large kingdom, just east of the Mountains of Morning, where philosophers were highly respected and the number five was fashionable. The climate was unremarkable. The knights kept their armor brightly polished mainly for show--it had been centuries since a dragon had come this far east. There was the usual periodic problems with royal children and uninvited fairy godmothers, but they were always the sort of thing that could be cleared up by finding the proper prince or princess to marry the unfortunate child a few years later. All in all, Linderwall was a very prosperous and pleasant place.
"Cimorene hated it." -Dealing with Dragons, by Patricia C. Wrede (beginning of a bestselling children's series)
"'You, my lord, are a rake and a rogue. A scoundrel.'" -The Wedding Bargain, by Victoria Alexander (NYT Bestseller)
"I saw Byzantium in a dream, and knew that I would die there." -Byzantium, by Stephen R. Lawhead (I don't think this book was a best-seller, but SRL has others that were. This one just so happens to be my favorite standalone.
Well, lovers of books and reading, those are some opening lines that others or I thought were great. How can you not love a book that begins like some of those do?
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Friday, September 17, 2010
When Writing Is Therapeutic...And When It Isn't
Last night, I was in a particularly bad mood. I'm one of those nighttime depressees. Come daylight, I'm fine. I cried and I didn't try fighting it. {this is NOT easy for me to admit. I hate crying, especially when I'm caught, but I needed the example} I knew I'd feel better once I was done. And I did feel better. At least a little. After that, I got my notebook from off the floor, turned to a new page, and started writing. It's a new poem, on my WDC. "The Hunter." It's not about what was wrong, not entirely anyway, but it was something I had been wanting to write.
My best writer friend, Lacey, writes when she's in a bad mood and in need of therapy. After a few sessions, she feels better. Writing has proven therapeutic for many.
But what about when it has the opposite effect?
Back in July, when I first started the current draft, something odd happened. It was a conversation between Naren (our protagonist) and Alandra (the antagonist). Naren was annoyed. Incredibly annoyed. I started getting annoyed. I was thinking, "Why doesn't Naren just kill her now and get it over with?"
Whoa. Back up! I was getting annoyed at what I was writing? In hindsight, it makes sense. I've cried (oh, dang, I'm just admitting to it a lot tonight, aren't I?) several times when I was writing. Just ask my friend, Amanda. She's caught me crying while I was writing! When my characters were happy, I was happy. When they were sad, so was I. When they were angry, I was angry. When they didn't know how to feel, neither did I.
I don't know if this is necessarily a good thing, though. Yes, it's good that I can get under my characters' skins, but is it good for my feelings to be affected as well? I'm supposed to feel better after a good write, not like I want to kill someone.
But I'm certain I'm not the only one.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
That Dreaded Peer Review
As you know, English Composition is exactly what it sounds like: Compositions in the English language. English, the hardest language to master. English, the official language of the United States.
My English professor insists on taking us by the hand and doing this first essay step by step. Most of us have been writing essays for years. We don't like the slow pace, but we're not in any position to argue with a newspaper columnist.
Well, the few things that we have turned in, he's read aloud to the class. Fortunately, he never named the writer. Usually, the writer revealed herself. (mostly girls did this) Surprisingly, I did not reveal myself. But I sit at the back of the class and no one makes an effort to turn around and look at me.
Today, we had to do a peer review.
"Peer review: n, evaluation of a person's work or performance by a group of people in the same occupation, profession, or industry."
I hate them. I picked a lame topic and some student from my class got to read my lameness. Luckily for me, the guy in front of me got my paper and he didn't mark it up all that much. I also got to see what he was doing. The paper I got was a girl's from across the room.
When I told my mother about the peer review, all she said was, "We'll, you're used to that."
It bothered me a little, but I didn't argue with her. It was true, but it wasn't pleasant.
*definition taken from Dictionary.com
My English professor insists on taking us by the hand and doing this first essay step by step. Most of us have been writing essays for years. We don't like the slow pace, but we're not in any position to argue with a newspaper columnist.
Well, the few things that we have turned in, he's read aloud to the class. Fortunately, he never named the writer. Usually, the writer revealed herself. (mostly girls did this) Surprisingly, I did not reveal myself. But I sit at the back of the class and no one makes an effort to turn around and look at me.
Today, we had to do a peer review.
"Peer review: n, evaluation of a person's work or performance by a group of people in the same occupation, profession, or industry."
I hate them. I picked a lame topic and some student from my class got to read my lameness. Luckily for me, the guy in front of me got my paper and he didn't mark it up all that much. I also got to see what he was doing. The paper I got was a girl's from across the room.
When I told my mother about the peer review, all she said was, "We'll, you're used to that."
It bothered me a little, but I didn't argue with her. It was true, but it wasn't pleasant.
*definition taken from Dictionary.com
Monday, September 13, 2010
THE 25,000!
My goal is 100,000 words, double the size of a NaNoWriMo novel. Do I have to get 100,000? Not really. If I can get the story across in 80-90,000 words, I'd settle for that. But my little word count meter (yeah, I'm that dorky) that I fill in every 5,000 words goes up to 100,000.
You've heard me talk about Naren before. (see previous posts if you haven't) He's the protagonist in the story.
Here's a quick 2-sentence summary of the novel so you have an idea of what it's about and you'll be able to sleep tonight and not wondering what this is about:
Naren isn't so much an unlikely hero, as he is reluctant. He doesn't have dreams of honor and glory, even though everyone knows he'd be really good at being a hero, which is why his witch of a great-aunt blackmails him into helping her.
Kamra, Naren, and Maros were my first characters once writing became my hobby. That ^ was not the plotline nor was Alandra (our antagonist) the villian. Kamra was the original central character, but Naren has more that could be at stake, thus, he stole the show. That, and I did a background check on Naren and his background is WAY more interesting. There's way more about Naren than Kamra and I wrote most of those when Kamra WAS the central character.
I'm one fourth of the way there! I'm halfway halfway there!
Self-Esteem & The Strong Heroine
September 11, 2010 (<--Date I wrote it, didn't post it here that day)
J. C. Verdin
Well, the title says a lot, doesn't it?
Most girls have looked in the mirror and has been completely disappointed with what they see. Or looked at pictures of themselves and hated them. You looked fine in the mirror, but that camera does seem to add ten pounds or blow up that zit or whatever.
We've already discussed the evils of mirrors, haven't we?
I've got a new theory: Anything that produces an image is bad. Maybe we'd be a lot happier if we couldn't see ourselves.
I have a love-hate relationship with myself. Sometimes, I'm like, "You know what, God made me a writer. That alone makes me awesome." I look in the mirror sometimes and go, "Wow. My cousin was right when she said I didn't need make-up. I am pretty without it! Take that, you losers who need make-up!" (Maybe it's not a good idea to put people down in self-esteem article.)
Other times, it's "I need a tune-up as bad as [my adorable car] Christine does." Or when I started college, my biggest fear, other than College Algebra, was whether or not I'd make new friends or if I'd fit in. I talk fast and a lot of people can't understand me. Or I'm just plain weird and I get teased.
Other than the writing part and my self-esteem issues, I am "an adjusted human being." I believe in God and that Jesus is the Way, Truth, and the Light; heaven and hell. I am attending college and majoring in English, chasing my writing dream so I can make something of myself. Why would I have self-esteem issues?
Everyone has things about themselves that they don't like, that they would change if they could. A lot of women and teenage girls have weight issues. (I'm struggling with this myself and this is where those mirror issues come in.) It's one thing to want to be healthy and live a long time, even though you'll die eventually. But just because some airbrushed chick on the cover of Seventeen or Glamour or People is flawless doesn't mean you have to be. You already got something on her: You're REAL. She's not.
I attended an Expressive Arts camp last summer. One of the teachers who did graphic design showed us a before and after picture. He lightened this girl's hair, took out her freckles, made her boobs bigger, and gave her that perfectly angular face--all on a computer. He showed this with two different pictures, one was an almost full short, the other was just a face. Neither of those women were ugly in the "before" picture.
Since you've already been been told the "fearfully and wonderfully made" Bible verse I won't say it again. But I will tell you this: Of all the people I have seen in my life (and that's a lot, since I people watch) I have NEVER seen an ugly person. I've seen drop-dead sexy guys and plain old John Does. I've seen girls that I wished that I looked like and others that were about like me.
But never have I seen anyone that was hard to look at just because of a physical appearance. Now, if I knew a handsome or plain person and I didn't like their personality, that's a different story. I don't like looking at those. There's this one guy I know. He's not the most gorgeous guy I've seen, but he's not ugly. But he said something smart-alecky to me on our first meeting and that was it! I didn't like him. We're friends now, and I use that term loosely.
Is my point made? Ladies and ladies, you are beautiful just the way you are. Single ladies, if a man doesn't have time to tell you this, then you don't have the time for him. If you've never heard that before YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL. Goodnight and God bless.
J. C. Verdin
Well, the title says a lot, doesn't it?
Most girls have looked in the mirror and has been completely disappointed with what they see. Or looked at pictures of themselves and hated them. You looked fine in the mirror, but that camera does seem to add ten pounds or blow up that zit or whatever.
We've already discussed the evils of mirrors, haven't we?
I've got a new theory: Anything that produces an image is bad. Maybe we'd be a lot happier if we couldn't see ourselves.
I have a love-hate relationship with myself. Sometimes, I'm like, "You know what, God made me a writer. That alone makes me awesome." I look in the mirror sometimes and go, "Wow. My cousin was right when she said I didn't need make-up. I am pretty without it! Take that, you losers who need make-up!" (Maybe it's not a good idea to put people down in self-esteem article.)
Other times, it's "I need a tune-up as bad as [my adorable car] Christine does." Or when I started college, my biggest fear, other than College Algebra, was whether or not I'd make new friends or if I'd fit in. I talk fast and a lot of people can't understand me. Or I'm just plain weird and I get teased.
Other than the writing part and my self-esteem issues, I am "an adjusted human being." I believe in God and that Jesus is the Way, Truth, and the Light; heaven and hell. I am attending college and majoring in English, chasing my writing dream so I can make something of myself. Why would I have self-esteem issues?
Everyone has things about themselves that they don't like, that they would change if they could. A lot of women and teenage girls have weight issues. (I'm struggling with this myself and this is where those mirror issues come in.) It's one thing to want to be healthy and live a long time, even though you'll die eventually. But just because some airbrushed chick on the cover of Seventeen or Glamour or People is flawless doesn't mean you have to be. You already got something on her: You're REAL. She's not.
I attended an Expressive Arts camp last summer. One of the teachers who did graphic design showed us a before and after picture. He lightened this girl's hair, took out her freckles, made her boobs bigger, and gave her that perfectly angular face--all on a computer. He showed this with two different pictures, one was an almost full short, the other was just a face. Neither of those women were ugly in the "before" picture.
Since you've already been been told the "fearfully and wonderfully made" Bible verse I won't say it again. But I will tell you this: Of all the people I have seen in my life (and that's a lot, since I people watch) I have NEVER seen an ugly person. I've seen drop-dead sexy guys and plain old John Does. I've seen girls that I wished that I looked like and others that were about like me.
But never have I seen anyone that was hard to look at just because of a physical appearance. Now, if I knew a handsome or plain person and I didn't like their personality, that's a different story. I don't like looking at those. There's this one guy I know. He's not the most gorgeous guy I've seen, but he's not ugly. But he said something smart-alecky to me on our first meeting and that was it! I didn't like him. We're friends now, and I use that term loosely.
Is my point made? Ladies and ladies, you are beautiful just the way you are. Single ladies, if a man doesn't have time to tell you this, then you don't have the time for him. If you've never heard that before YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL. Goodnight and God bless.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Kai's Eternity 3
Thoughts on "The Snow Queen," part 3
September 7, 2010
J. C. Verdin
At last we are at the seventh part of my favorite tale by Hans Christian Andersen.
"Little Kai was blue--indeed, almost black--from the cold; but he did not feel it, for the Snow Queen had kissed all feeling of coldness out of him, and his heart had almost turned into a lump of ice. He sat arranging and rearranging pieces of ice into patterns. He called this the Game of Reason; and because of the splinters in his eyes, he thought that what he was doing was of great importance, although it was no different than playing with wooden blocks, which he had done when he could hardly talk.
"He wanted to put the pieces of ice together in such a way that they formed a certain word, but he could not remember exactly what that word was. The word that he could not remember was "eternity." The Snow Queen had told him that if he could place the pieces in ice so that they spelled the word, then he would be his own master and she would give him the whole world and a new pair of skatesl but, however much he tried, he couldn't do it."
The Snow Queen leaves Kai just as Gerda arrives.
"But Kai sat still and stiff and cold; then little Gerda cried and her tears fell on Kai's breast. The warmth penetrated to his heart and melted both the ice and the glass splinter in it....
"Kai burst into tears and wept so much that the grains of glass in his eyes were washed away. Now he remembered her and shouted joyfully: "Gerda! Sweet little Gerda, where have you been so long? And where have I been?" Kai looked about him. "How cold it is, how empty and how huge!" And he held onto Gerda, who was so happy that she was both laughing and crying at the same time. It was so blessed, so happy a moment that even the pieces of ice felt it and started to dance; and when they grew tired they lay down and formed exactly the word for which the Snow Queen had promised Kai the whold world and a new pair of skates.
"....Now the Snow Queen could return, for the right to his freedom was written in brilliant pieces of ice.
"Soon they were walking up the worn steps of the staircase to the old Grandmother's apartment. Nothing inside it had changed. The clock said: "Tick-tack..." and the wheels moved. But as they stepped through the doorway they realized that they had grown up: they were no longer children.
"The roses were blooming in the wooden boxes and the window was open. There were the little stools they used to sit on. Still holding each other's hands, they sat down, and all memory of the Snow Queen and it's hollow splendor disappeared. The Grandmother sat in the warm sunshine, reading aloud from her Bibe: "Whosoever shall not receive the Kingdom of Heaven as a little child shall not enter therein."
"Kai and Gerda looked into each other's eye and they understood the words from the psalm:
Our roses bloom and fade away,
Our infant Lord abides alway.
May we be blessed his face to see
And ever little children be.
"There they sat, the two of them, grown ups and yet in their hearts children, and it was summer: a warm glorious summer day!
A lot happens in the seventh part. You've read it for yourself. I wanted to talk about two things in this last part, but I can't remember the first. (Hey, vents are supposed to be honest.) So, I'll focus on the second.
"Whosoever shall not receive the Kingdom of Heaven as a little child shall not enter therein." is a paraphrase of a well-known Bible verse. (Matthew 18:3). I think the translator just translated it straight from the Danish and didn't bother with a well-known translation. If you ever figure out the translation he used, please tell me. Hint: It's NOT King James Version. I checked.
1-In Bible times, children were the least of these. They were the bottom of the totem pole. God just loves to humble us, doesn't He?
2-Children have a sense of trust that we need to emulate. They trust their daddy or mommy to take care of them no matter what.
3-Children a sense of wonder that we lose when we grow older. Storms are explained away by science. Scary images on TV are just stage make-up and special effects. Nothing amazes us anymore. (We've talked about this before, haven't we?)
4-Children are sinners in need of a savior. People are, by their very nature, sinners. From the moment we are born till we take our last breath. Some of us can add the prefix 'saved' to that term, but we're still sinners. Being saved doesn't make you perfect nor does it mean you'll stop sinning. You'll fall short of the glory of God millions of times this side of eternity.
In essence, "The Snow Queen" is about being a child and childlike faith. (If you read the entire story, you'll know that.) While some of the other parts inspire other thoughts, which is a good thing, children, like all fairy tales, are the star role.
It's been a great three days. Good night and God bless.
*All quotes from "The Snow Queen" are taken from Hans Christian Andersen: The Complete Fairy Tales and Stories, Translated from the Danish by Erik Christian Haugaard, published 1983 by Anchor Books
Gerda's Love 2
Thoughts on "The Snow Queen", part 2 September 6, 2010
J. C. Verdin
We left off last night with the devil and his broken mirror, what it does, and all that. Well, that's only the first part. Our victim, a little boy named Kai, and our heroine, a little girl named Gerda, are introduced in the second part. And here's what happened:
"One afternoon as Kai and Gerda sat looking at a picture book with animals and flowers in it--it was exactly five o'clock, for the bells in the church tower had just struck the hour--Kai said, 'Ouch, ouch! Something pricked my heart!' And then again, 'Ouch, something sharp is in my eye.'
"The little girl put her arms around his neck and looked into his eyes but there was nothing to be seen. Still, it hurt and little Gerda cried out of sympathy.
"'I think it is gone now," said Kai. But he was wrong, two of the splinters from the devil's mirror had hit him: one his entered his heart and the other his eyes....But the pain, that would disappear."
Kai loses interest in the simplicity of life. He made fun of people, including Gerda. But she still played with him.
And then Kai is taken by the Snow Queen. Winter passes and there is no sign of him. When spring comes, Gerda puts on her new red shoes, shoes Kai had never seen, and walks down to the river to ask it a question.
When she asks the river if it had taken him, she bargains her new red shoes. She throws them into the river and the river returns them.
Thinking she hadn't thrown them far enough, she gets into a boat and tosses the shoes again. The boat wasn't fastened to the shore and she was off!
Eventually, the boat washed ashore, near an old woman's home. The old woman knew magic and made her rose bushes disappear. Gerda wouldn't see them and she wouldn't remember Kai and she wouldn't run away.
Needless to say, this plan didn't work.
Gerda goes through a lot of trouble looking for Kai. After she escapes the old witch, she meets a two crows, a prince and princess, a band of robbers, a Finnish woman, and a Lapp woman. Even though Kai was mean to her, she still loved him enough to look for him. Once the river took her away, did she try to return home? No. Her only thought was, "Maybe the river will lead me to him."
How many people do you know would go through all that? Who comes to mind first?
I seem to like talking about Jesus' sacrifice, because His comes to mind first. He came to Earth, died for us all, even though we spite Him, even though some of us hate Him, even though some of us don't even believe in Him, He came and died.
I talked about that reckless love God has for us last night. Well, seeking and saving what was lost was Jesus' purpose here on earth.
Gerda loses her best friend emotionally, then physically, and goes find him. What an example for all of us. There was nothing special about her, other than her love. But perhaps there was.
Coming soon, the last part of "The Snow Queen." And we find out what happens with Kai and Gerda. Good evening and God bless.
*All quotes from "The Snow Queen" are taken from Hans Christian Andersen: The Complete Fairy Tales and Stories, Translated from the Danish by Erik Christian Haugaard, published 1983 by Anchor Books
J. C. Verdin
We left off last night with the devil and his broken mirror, what it does, and all that. Well, that's only the first part. Our victim, a little boy named Kai, and our heroine, a little girl named Gerda, are introduced in the second part. And here's what happened:
"One afternoon as Kai and Gerda sat looking at a picture book with animals and flowers in it--it was exactly five o'clock, for the bells in the church tower had just struck the hour--Kai said, 'Ouch, ouch! Something pricked my heart!' And then again, 'Ouch, something sharp is in my eye.'
"The little girl put her arms around his neck and looked into his eyes but there was nothing to be seen. Still, it hurt and little Gerda cried out of sympathy.
"'I think it is gone now," said Kai. But he was wrong, two of the splinters from the devil's mirror had hit him: one his entered his heart and the other his eyes....But the pain, that would disappear."
Kai loses interest in the simplicity of life. He made fun of people, including Gerda. But she still played with him.
And then Kai is taken by the Snow Queen. Winter passes and there is no sign of him. When spring comes, Gerda puts on her new red shoes, shoes Kai had never seen, and walks down to the river to ask it a question.
When she asks the river if it had taken him, she bargains her new red shoes. She throws them into the river and the river returns them.
Thinking she hadn't thrown them far enough, she gets into a boat and tosses the shoes again. The boat wasn't fastened to the shore and she was off!
Eventually, the boat washed ashore, near an old woman's home. The old woman knew magic and made her rose bushes disappear. Gerda wouldn't see them and she wouldn't remember Kai and she wouldn't run away.
Needless to say, this plan didn't work.
Gerda goes through a lot of trouble looking for Kai. After she escapes the old witch, she meets a two crows, a prince and princess, a band of robbers, a Finnish woman, and a Lapp woman. Even though Kai was mean to her, she still loved him enough to look for him. Once the river took her away, did she try to return home? No. Her only thought was, "Maybe the river will lead me to him."
How many people do you know would go through all that? Who comes to mind first?
I seem to like talking about Jesus' sacrifice, because His comes to mind first. He came to Earth, died for us all, even though we spite Him, even though some of us hate Him, even though some of us don't even believe in Him, He came and died.
I talked about that reckless love God has for us last night. Well, seeking and saving what was lost was Jesus' purpose here on earth.
Gerda loses her best friend emotionally, then physically, and goes find him. What an example for all of us. There was nothing special about her, other than her love. But perhaps there was.
Coming soon, the last part of "The Snow Queen." And we find out what happens with Kai and Gerda. Good evening and God bless.
*All quotes from "The Snow Queen" are taken from Hans Christian Andersen: The Complete Fairy Tales and Stories, Translated from the Danish by Erik Christian Haugaard, published 1983 by Anchor Books
Sunday, September 5, 2010
The Devil's Mirror 1
Thoughts on The Snow Queen, possibly a part 1
September 5, 2010
J. C. Verdin
I'm a big fan of Hans Christian Andersen. My favorite story by him is "The Snow Queen." Which, that's supposed to be the next traditional animation film by Disney (2013). I can't wait if they don't botch it up.
I don't know how Disney will do the first part. In my translation (Translator Erik Christian Haugaard), it goes like this:
"Once upon a time there was a troll, the most evil troll of them all; he was called the devil. One day, he was particularly pleased with himself, for he had invented a mirror which had the strange power of being able to make anything good or beautiful that it reflected appear horrid; and all that was evil and worthless seem attractive and worth while...."
Several paragraphs later, after all the trolls had a chance to poke fun at the world through the mirror's reflection, it reads:
"At last they decided to fly up to heaven to poke fun at the angels and God Himself. All together they carried the mirror, and flew up higher and higher. The nearer they came to heaven, the harder the mirror laughed, so that the trolls could barely hold onto it; still, they flew higher and higher: upward toward God and the angels, then the mirror shook so violently from laughter that they lost their grasp; it fell and broke into hundreds of millions of billions and some odd pieces. It was then that it really caused trouble, much more than it ever had before. Some of the splinters were as tiny as grains of sand and just as light, so that they were spread by the winds all over the world. When a sliver like that entered someone's eye it stayed there; and the person, forever after, would see the world distorted, and only be able to see the faults, and not the virtues, of everyone around him, since even the tiniest fragment contained all the evil qualities of the whole mirror. If a splinter should enter someone's heart--oh, that was the most terrible of all!--that heart would turn to ice."
There's seven parts to this fairy tale, but I'll give you the rest another time. I wanted to talk specifically about that mirror and the first part.
The devil deceives us. Circumstances in life take away our innocence and we view things in a cynical manner. The simple beauty of things don't appear beautiful anymore. We can't see past people's outer exteriors. Our hearts freeze over.
Let me tell you something about ice: it melts. Or, to put the more well-known terminolgy, when hurt people build up walls.
Well, folks, anything human-made can end. When people form those walls around their hearts, even if they don't mean to, they miss spots. And if we find that spot, we leave it, because it's so small, we don't think anything can ever fit through it. Or maybe some of us will want something to try to get through.
Well, love is flexible and unconditional. It will squeeze through that hole. It may not be comfortable, but love will find a way.
Some of you know already that I read Brennan Manning's The Ragamuffin Gospel. It's a powerful book. In one of his songs, Rich Mullins, who was influenced by Brennan Manning, describes, "a reckless, raging fury, that they call the love of God." Reckless and raging, hm? Sounds scarier than any natural storm considering it's God we're talking about.
I live in South Mississippi, not very far from what's considered the Gulf Coast. While my house was barely damaged, I know plenty of people who lost everything for Hurricane Katrina or for Hurricane Rita, which struck what Katrina missed, more or less.
Well, folks, if a physical hurricane can devastate entire regions, how much stronger is that raging fury? Reckless fury? How many more walls can that tear down?
"The Snow Queen", as I said, is my favorite story by Hans Christian Andersen. There's more to this story and people's frozen hearts, and I'll try to get that to you soon.
Goodbye for now and God bless.
*All quotes from "The Snow Queen" are taken from Hans Christian Andersen: The Complete Fairy Tales and Stories, Translated from the Danish by Erik Christian Haugaard, published 1983 by Anchor Books
The last thought: Today makes a year since I started this VP Set 3 with "Pack Rat's Anonymous." In there, I jokingly said, "Next week, we'll talk about procrastination!" That was a year ago, folks. I'll try, but as I've proven to you and to myself, I can procrastinate. Let's see if I ever do anything on the next 7 stories...
September 5, 2010
J. C. Verdin
I'm a big fan of Hans Christian Andersen. My favorite story by him is "The Snow Queen." Which, that's supposed to be the next traditional animation film by Disney (2013). I can't wait if they don't botch it up.
I don't know how Disney will do the first part. In my translation (Translator Erik Christian Haugaard), it goes like this:
"Once upon a time there was a troll, the most evil troll of them all; he was called the devil. One day, he was particularly pleased with himself, for he had invented a mirror which had the strange power of being able to make anything good or beautiful that it reflected appear horrid; and all that was evil and worthless seem attractive and worth while...."
Several paragraphs later, after all the trolls had a chance to poke fun at the world through the mirror's reflection, it reads:
"At last they decided to fly up to heaven to poke fun at the angels and God Himself. All together they carried the mirror, and flew up higher and higher. The nearer they came to heaven, the harder the mirror laughed, so that the trolls could barely hold onto it; still, they flew higher and higher: upward toward God and the angels, then the mirror shook so violently from laughter that they lost their grasp; it fell and broke into hundreds of millions of billions and some odd pieces. It was then that it really caused trouble, much more than it ever had before. Some of the splinters were as tiny as grains of sand and just as light, so that they were spread by the winds all over the world. When a sliver like that entered someone's eye it stayed there; and the person, forever after, would see the world distorted, and only be able to see the faults, and not the virtues, of everyone around him, since even the tiniest fragment contained all the evil qualities of the whole mirror. If a splinter should enter someone's heart--oh, that was the most terrible of all!--that heart would turn to ice."
There's seven parts to this fairy tale, but I'll give you the rest another time. I wanted to talk specifically about that mirror and the first part.
The devil deceives us. Circumstances in life take away our innocence and we view things in a cynical manner. The simple beauty of things don't appear beautiful anymore. We can't see past people's outer exteriors. Our hearts freeze over.
Let me tell you something about ice: it melts. Or, to put the more well-known terminolgy, when hurt people build up walls.
Well, folks, anything human-made can end. When people form those walls around their hearts, even if they don't mean to, they miss spots. And if we find that spot, we leave it, because it's so small, we don't think anything can ever fit through it. Or maybe some of us will want something to try to get through.
Well, love is flexible and unconditional. It will squeeze through that hole. It may not be comfortable, but love will find a way.
Some of you know already that I read Brennan Manning's The Ragamuffin Gospel. It's a powerful book. In one of his songs, Rich Mullins, who was influenced by Brennan Manning, describes, "a reckless, raging fury, that they call the love of God." Reckless and raging, hm? Sounds scarier than any natural storm considering it's God we're talking about.
I live in South Mississippi, not very far from what's considered the Gulf Coast. While my house was barely damaged, I know plenty of people who lost everything for Hurricane Katrina or for Hurricane Rita, which struck what Katrina missed, more or less.
Well, folks, if a physical hurricane can devastate entire regions, how much stronger is that raging fury? Reckless fury? How many more walls can that tear down?
"The Snow Queen", as I said, is my favorite story by Hans Christian Andersen. There's more to this story and people's frozen hearts, and I'll try to get that to you soon.
Goodbye for now and God bless.
*All quotes from "The Snow Queen" are taken from Hans Christian Andersen: The Complete Fairy Tales and Stories, Translated from the Danish by Erik Christian Haugaard, published 1983 by Anchor Books
The last thought: Today makes a year since I started this VP Set 3 with "Pack Rat's Anonymous." In there, I jokingly said, "Next week, we'll talk about procrastination!" That was a year ago, folks. I'll try, but as I've proven to you and to myself, I can procrastinate. Let's see if I ever do anything on the next 7 stories...
Saturday, September 4, 2010
Pulling A Naren, part 2
I've written maybe 40 words in the last 24 hours. I'm pulling a Naren all right. I don't feel like writing and I haven't been. (Naren, you are a really bad influence.) I was better off being me and not making any promises to myself or others. I just haven't decided on something to say, I guess.
I spent the weekend with my GPort buddy. It was really nice to get away. I brought a notebook that I barely wrote in and my newest Stephen R. Lawhead book. Stephen R. Lawhead is my favorite author. Favorite, you hear me?
Soon, you should be seeing a review of The Skin Map. Dum duh duh duh! I am trying to improve my reviewing skills.
So, I haven't been writing. But there is something that I am itching to write about. I'll post it as soon as I get everything straight and figure out how to explain this to you. Until then, I'll be like Naren and shut up till I have something to say.
I spent the weekend with my GPort buddy. It was really nice to get away. I brought a notebook that I barely wrote in and my newest Stephen R. Lawhead book. Stephen R. Lawhead is my favorite author. Favorite, you hear me?
Soon, you should be seeing a review of The Skin Map. Dum duh duh duh! I am trying to improve my reviewing skills.
So, I haven't been writing. But there is something that I am itching to write about. I'll post it as soon as I get everything straight and figure out how to explain this to you. Until then, I'll be like Naren and shut up till I have something to say.
Friday, September 3, 2010
Pulling a Naren
My protagonist Naren Aerys (pronounced NAR - IN AIR - EES) is very straight-forward. He'll talk, but he usually says what he needs to and just shuts up. And if he doesn't feel like saying anything, he won't. It is with very great effort that he carries a conversation.
I haven't been working on that story lately. And there's another story as well that I haven't been working on that I need to be.
Writing.Com, of which I have been an active member for three years, celebrated its tenth birthday September 1st. The website is having all sorts of contests, giveaways, and other stuff to party up this significant occasion.
I am participating in two contests, both of which change daily. I usually don't do that. I may have won one writing contest, and that was because nobody else entered. Unpleasant...
I am making myself write and participate. Out of the four stories I've written, there's only been one that I thought even had a chance of winning. I have till 11:59 Eastern Time to turn out two more stories.
I know it must be really weird for me to be forcing myself. But I've decided that I want to be a writer and I want to be it full time. I HAVE to write. Even when I don't feel like it. Even when it doesn't seem like I should be writing.
I'm pulling a Naren. With great effort, I am turning out some words.
I haven't been working on that story lately. And there's another story as well that I haven't been working on that I need to be.
Writing.Com, of which I have been an active member for three years, celebrated its tenth birthday September 1st. The website is having all sorts of contests, giveaways, and other stuff to party up this significant occasion.
I am participating in two contests, both of which change daily. I usually don't do that. I may have won one writing contest, and that was because nobody else entered. Unpleasant...
I am making myself write and participate. Out of the four stories I've written, there's only been one that I thought even had a chance of winning. I have till 11:59 Eastern Time to turn out two more stories.
I know it must be really weird for me to be forcing myself. But I've decided that I want to be a writer and I want to be it full time. I HAVE to write. Even when I don't feel like it. Even when it doesn't seem like I should be writing.
I'm pulling a Naren. With great effort, I am turning out some words.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
The New Name
No, a new blog did NOT pop into your dashboard magically. I renamed 'Just Some Thoughts.' In case you haven't noticed, my URL is a bunch of numbers. Well, it was my lunch number from 7th-10th grade. If you've been following my blog, you know that I graduated recently. I wasn't using that number anymore. Well, I just remembered it and it's still easy for me to remember.
Friday, August 27, 2010
The Prydain Chronicles
I finished reading The High King by Lloyd Alexander last night. I loved every book. Mr. Alexander (1924-2007) was great at sensationalism. Every succeeeding book is bigger and badder than the one preceding it.
The Companions & Other Main Characters:
Taran of Caer Dallben- Assistant Pig-Keeper to Lord Dallben
Dallben - Old enchanter, primarily raised Taran
Coll - warrior-turned-farmer, primarily raised Taran
Eilonwy - sharp-tongued Princess, Taran's love interest in the later books
Fflewddur Fflam - King-turned-bard. Whenever he colors the truth, a string on his harp breaks
Gurgi - creature that befriends and serves Taran, obsessed with food
Gwydion Prince of Don - The best leader of all Prydain, Taran's hero
Arawn Death-Lord - the main villian in the books
King Math Son of Mathonwy - High King of Prydain
The Companions & Other Main Characters:
Taran of Caer Dallben- Assistant Pig-Keeper to Lord Dallben
Dallben - Old enchanter, primarily raised Taran
Coll - warrior-turned-farmer, primarily raised Taran
Eilonwy - sharp-tongued Princess, Taran's love interest in the later books
Fflewddur Fflam - King-turned-bard. Whenever he colors the truth, a string on his harp breaks
Gurgi - creature that befriends and serves Taran, obsessed with food
Gwydion Prince of Don - The best leader of all Prydain, Taran's hero
Arawn Death-Lord - the main villian in the books
King Math Son of Mathonwy - High King of Prydain
The Book of Three kicks off the series with Taran getting a new title: Assistant Pig-Keeper. But it's no ordinary pig he's responsible for. This pig, Hen Wen, is the only oracular pig in all of Prydain. When Hen Wen gets loose, Taran must find her. Instead, he finds his hero, a king-turned-bard, and several other colorful persons. He finds there's a lot more to being a hero than just glory as they face Arawn Death-Lord's lackey, the Horned King.
In The Black Cauldron, we rejoin our hero Taran Assistant Pig-Keeper and his friends. Gwydion Prince of Don has called a council and announces he wishes to destroy the Black Cauldron, where Arawn Death-Lord creates Cauldron-Born, deathless warriors. Deathless, as in, they can't be killed. They can't destroy what's there, but they can prevent more from being born.
The back synopsis of The Castle of Llyr threw me off a little. It led me to believe this book was more about Taran's love interest, the sharp-tongued Princess Eilonwy. Taran is still our main character, however. Eilonwy is being forced to leave home and learn how to be a proper lady. She's already a Princess, why does she need to be a proper lady? Everything goes awry when she's kidnapped and the Companions must find her.
Taran Wanderer was my personal favorite of the series. Taran longs to know who his parents were and sets off for answers. He has hopes of being of noble blood so he can propose to Eilonwy. It has the feel of an old fairy tale to it with someone searching for something. It's a coming-of-age story. Taran's no longer seen as a pig boy and more as a man.
Taran returns home to find all of his old friends waiting for him--save Prince Gwydion and Fflewddur Fflam. They arrive shortly after with Prince Gwydion wounded. The great sword Dyrnwyn has been stolen by Arawn Death-Lord. The Companions rally the armies of Prydain and face Arawn one last time. It's a wonderful conclusion.I'm familiar with The Mabinogion, so I was surprised to see Arawn as the villian, but it's a masterful epic and if you were like me and didn't read it when you were a child, well, it's not too late to read it. The books are still in print and easy to find.
If you were like me, you may want to know before hand whether or not Taran gets Eilonwy in the end. Well, you've seen the highlight-the-spoiler trick haven't you? Highlight after the colon: Yes, he does.!
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
The Vaccine
My First Day of College
August 24, 2010
J. C. Verdin
Today I began college.
Didn't it just seem like yesterday that I was in middle school either trying to figure out who I was, or reading Eragon, or trying to write about these characters that for some odd reason wouldn't leave me alone?
It feels just like yesterday.
I have College Algebra first hour-and-a-half. I did most of my homework for it already, but there's two problems that I just can't seem to figure out.
I'm majoring in English. I hate Algebra. I understand basic math. I use it every day to get that ever-elusive high word count. I understand geometry, even enjoyed the class. Algebra?
Horrors!
Fortunately, I have a promising teacher. She said she understood a concept when she knew what it was for. She had my ear.
Next, I found myself in General Psychology. The teacher is a little eccentric, but my mom and sister just adore her. She seemed really likable. My mom told me that this teacher can explain to me why I am the way I am. She meant why I'm crazy.
After that, I had World Civilizations, which is in the same room. Basic history class. I'm looking forward to it. I've always loved history.
Well, after that, it was my lunch break. My mother forgot me and went to G-port. We live about 45 minutes-1 hour away from G-port. Luckily, one of her friends who happens to work at the college saw me and offered me a ride home. I don't have a house key so I had to break into my own house. (Don't worry, I didn't break anything.) And then I opened the door for my mom's friend. We were eating lunch at my house when my mom and sister came home. That friend of my mom's also took me back to the college.
And here we come to my major and favorite subject: English Composition I. Well, guess what? I'll be in essay central. Essays aren't my favorite thing to write--unless these VPs count--but it's still writing.
We have to write essays and then he's going to tell us what went wrong. Sound familiar? We have to walk out of that class writing better. I'm taking a Break into Print course through Long Ridge Writers' Group, based out of Connecticut. I send in my assignment into my instructor and he tells me what's right and what's wrong.
In English today, we had to write a paragraph about why we were in college. I was honest. I put that a college education was my fall back in case being a writer didn't pay well--if at all. I put that if my career didn't take off, I would become a middle school teacher. That's what I put.
Yeah, yeah, middle schoolers are all drama. I've been there recently. I wasn't all that dramatic. I had one unrequited crush and the guy found out. Biggest crisis of my middle school years, and that had been in 6th grade. In 7th, I discovered reading. Real guys lost appeal and I just wanted Maximillian Wells to jump out of The Wedding Bargain and be my hero. I was totally jealous--still totally jealous--of Pandora. (Disclaimer: I don't know if I read The Wedding Bargain in 7th or 8th grade. But I fell in love with fictional heroes.) In 8th grade, writing claimed my heart. But y'all should know that story by now.
My English professor told us that writing is an essential part of life.
Yup, I can hear the, "Oh, you must've been excited!"
It's like the vaccine you must take before you can enter school, he went on.
Writing is an essential part of my life. Writing, correct grammar, and speech are essential and, if learned well, will make people take you more seriously. My grammar isn't perfect, neither is my writing, but even I can appreciate a well-written sentence. Which is funny, because I'm the worst for fragments. But I try to make it sound/read good.
All of college is a vaccine. How many people would go if they didn't need it? Plenty of people didn't go to a college back in the day. Look at how well our ancestors did without being well-rounded and educated. But we won't go there. As a young woman, I will not discount the value of an education I couldn't have gotten a century ago. Although, I won't say that all advancement is good either. Indoor plumbing is the one technology I can't live without, but everything else...well, I'd miss it, but not if I didn't have it to begin with.
Here's to my newest adventure! Getting more education and trying to survive College Algebra! Let the shots continue!
Monday, August 23, 2010
Happiest Day of My Life
I write poetry from time to time. I usually write in couplets or some other common rhyme scheme. I don't do free-style very well.
I got a MERIT BADGE on Writing.Com. I never expected to get one for my poetry. Never ever ever. But I did. I feel high. I don't know what being high feels like, but I feel high.
I got a MERIT BADGE on Writing.Com. I never expected to get one for my poetry. Never ever ever. But I did. I feel high. I don't know what being high feels like, but I feel high.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Dear George Clooney: Please Marry My Mom by Susan Nielson
I loved this book.They write him letters that his office returns. They spy on her mom's current loser, Dudley Wiener. He has some terrible secret that they're trying to figure out.
Violet also lashes out against her little half-sisters, steals a golf cart and crashes it into George Clooney's car.
Everyone finds happiness in the end, and it's a fun ride getting there.
~~~
I really saw myself in this book. Violet was a lot like I was in 7th grade. It was almost creepy.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Editing
I finished editing. I went from 75 pages to 73, over 20,000 words to 19,500-something. I deleted two scenes. This novel-writing stuff is hard! I hit a block and I don't know where to go. Oh well, at least there aren't any inconsistencies.
I had the edited pages stacked while I was fixing it in the computer. Once I finished with a page, I tossed it on my floor. My nephew, who should be asleep right now, came in halfway through and started playing with all the papers scattering my floor. It kind of looks like the bottom lining of a hamster cage. He's not helping. As long as he doesn't trash anything else.
I had the edited pages stacked while I was fixing it in the computer. Once I finished with a page, I tossed it on my floor. My nephew, who should be asleep right now, came in halfway through and started playing with all the papers scattering my floor. It kind of looks like the bottom lining of a hamster cage. He's not helping. As long as he doesn't trash anything else.
Sunday, August 15, 2010
Some More Writing Comments
Last night, I printed out 75 pages of the unfinished novel I'm working on. I re-read over it once, noticing all what was wrong with and enjoying the parts that were good. Now, I'm reading it over again, this time with a pen in hand.
It can be incredibly depressing, some of the things I've written that I know aren't good. And then there are the few good parts in there that remind me why I write anyway. There is always something good.
I've been told I have talent. Talent without discipline is very bad. I lack a considerable amount of discipline. I tend to write what I wish, with an attempted plot or angles, and however it comes out, it comes out.
Also, when I do try to plan, I never follow it. That's lack of discipline at its worst.
Writing isn't something to be entered into lightly. But it is something that there are plenty of different approaches.
It can be incredibly depressing, some of the things I've written that I know aren't good. And then there are the few good parts in there that remind me why I write anyway. There is always something good.
I've been told I have talent. Talent without discipline is very bad. I lack a considerable amount of discipline. I tend to write what I wish, with an attempted plot or angles, and however it comes out, it comes out.
Also, when I do try to plan, I never follow it. That's lack of discipline at its worst.
Writing isn't something to be entered into lightly. But it is something that there are plenty of different approaches.
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Orientation
I went to Orientation yesterday. I sat by myself. The college's auditorium was only about a third of the way full. I saw a lot of people I knew from 1st-10th grade. One guy I had Excel (Excel is what we have instead of Gifted. It's like Special Ed for Smart People (SESP) with from 2nd-6th grade told me hi and bye. A few other snatches of conversation here and there but for the most part I didn't talk much.
It doesn't give me any confidence that classes will be any better.When it was time for me to pick my classes, we were hearded into a room with sheets of available classes.
A coach (I'm certain he was anyway), he was no help at alltold me just to put down the recommended classes. I was already working on that.Then, one of the English professors started to help the girl sitting next to me. Once they were done, I asked for his help. He did my schedule for me. After my schedule was done and we were on our way to the computer lab to punch the codes in online, I kept thinking, God sent me an angel. I could have never pulled it off on my own.
I'm now looking at 15 hours of class a week and going in only two days. Yeah, it sounds rough, but I'm used to being at school from 8-3. It's natural. And I get three days off a week, five if you count the weekends.
I can't believe I'm starting college in a few days. Week after next, to be exact. I'm somewhere between excited and scared. Oh well, I survived public and private school. And orientation.
It doesn't give me any confidence that classes will be any better.When it was time for me to pick my classes, we were hearded into a room with sheets of available classes.
A coach (I'm certain he was anyway), he was no help at alltold me just to put down the recommended classes. I was already working on that.Then, one of the English professors started to help the girl sitting next to me. Once they were done, I asked for his help. He did my schedule for me. After my schedule was done and we were on our way to the computer lab to punch the codes in online, I kept thinking, God sent me an angel. I could have never pulled it off on my own.
I'm now looking at 15 hours of class a week and going in only two days. Yeah, it sounds rough, but I'm used to being at school from 8-3. It's natural. And I get three days off a week, five if you count the weekends.
I can't believe I'm starting college in a few days. Week after next, to be exact. I'm somewhere between excited and scared. Oh well, I survived public and private school. And orientation.
Sunday, August 1, 2010
The First
August is here! This month is gonna be a busy one for me. My little brother begins Kindergarten on Thursday, and I'm so excited for him. I 'm also excited for myself, because I'll be starting my first year of college. And yes, I'm well aware of how that sounds. My little brother and I are exactly thirteen years apart. We share a birthhday. And, despite the large gap in age, we fight A LOT. Not so much at home, but in public when Vin [my brother] is misbehaving and I'm trying to keep up with him while my mother shops.
In the month of July, I managed 10,558 words for one novel and 1,581 words for another. Let's see how well I do at the end of this month.
The farm has been expanding and decreasing all summer. My rabbit, Prince, was slaughtered yesterday. He was sick and my mother wanted to save his meat. I was upset. I even cried a little, which I haven't done in years.
I wish with every bunny born on our farm, a new plot would pop up. The plot bunnies are multiplying, right? Yeah, it doesn't work with REAL bunnies. Though they're cute and cuddly. If I was good with description, I probably would describe them. Good way to hone the talent, I guess.
Here's to a new month.
In the month of July, I managed 10,558 words for one novel and 1,581 words for another. Let's see how well I do at the end of this month.
The farm has been expanding and decreasing all summer. My rabbit, Prince, was slaughtered yesterday. He was sick and my mother wanted to save his meat. I was upset. I even cried a little, which I haven't done in years.
I wish with every bunny born on our farm, a new plot would pop up. The plot bunnies are multiplying, right? Yeah, it doesn't work with REAL bunnies. Though they're cute and cuddly. If I was good with description, I probably would describe them. Good way to hone the talent, I guess.
Here's to a new month.
Monday, July 19, 2010
To the Writer, From the Reader
To The Writer, From The Reader
By Jadi Verdin
I'm not good at giving writing advice as a writer. I'm much better at determining whether it's good or bad by my standards for what I like to read.
1. When reading fiction, I care much more about plot than the other story elements, despite critics' opinions. What is the problem? How is it being solved? When said problem is resolved, tie up the loose ends quickly and end the story. If you don't, it's confusing. A great plot can probably save bad writing, bad dialogue, and flat characters separately and maybe even more than one. Plot is most important.
2. The characters come second. They are in the situation they are in because of the plot. They can have a few loose screws. They can have odd quirks and closet hobbies. They can make foolish mistakes, but don't make them stupid. There's sympathetic and then there's just plain pathetic. I like characters that can hold their own. Give me a strong protagonist.
3. In fiction, dialogue doesn't have to be great, but, please, don't let it be bad. There's a writing rule about Character A telling Character B something he should already know. The professionals have said don't do it. Now a reader is saying it: Don't do it.
Even if Publishers Weekly gives your book a bad review—as they love to do—that will not lower your chances of being read. Good readers don't care what critics say because critics don't know what readers like.
There's no such thing as The Perfect Piece, but there is The Great Piece. It's no easy task, though!
-July 19, 2010
By Jadi Verdin
I'm not good at giving writing advice as a writer. I'm much better at determining whether it's good or bad by my standards for what I like to read.
1. When reading fiction, I care much more about plot than the other story elements, despite critics' opinions. What is the problem? How is it being solved? When said problem is resolved, tie up the loose ends quickly and end the story. If you don't, it's confusing. A great plot can probably save bad writing, bad dialogue, and flat characters separately and maybe even more than one. Plot is most important.
2. The characters come second. They are in the situation they are in because of the plot. They can have a few loose screws. They can have odd quirks and closet hobbies. They can make foolish mistakes, but don't make them stupid. There's sympathetic and then there's just plain pathetic. I like characters that can hold their own. Give me a strong protagonist.
3. In fiction, dialogue doesn't have to be great, but, please, don't let it be bad. There's a writing rule about Character A telling Character B something he should already know. The professionals have said don't do it. Now a reader is saying it: Don't do it.
Even if Publishers Weekly gives your book a bad review—as they love to do—that will not lower your chances of being read. Good readers don't care what critics say because critics don't know what readers like.
There's no such thing as The Perfect Piece, but there is The Great Piece. It's no easy task, though!
-July 19, 2010
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)