[via]

I know I've been a bit neglectful on here.  I'm sorry - I really do miss it.  Due to the pace of the next few weeks, I probably won't be here as much as I'd like.  But I'm determined not to turn this space into a complaint over how much I have to do.  It is a lot.  But I had a good conversation with a colleague about how we may be stressed out, but over things we actually care about.  We chose school over a million other things we could have done.  And we aren't stressing over a bosses concerns.  For the most part, these are our own passions and instead of performing for someone else, our job is simply to make other people care.  So, as I go off and try to be productive, I'm trying to keep that mentality.  I may have a lot to do, but I chose this and I love this.  And for that, I count myself lucky.

Today Samara Learned... [Day 29]

more about the Marvel Universe - and finds it fascinating!!  Between the new Avengers: Age of Ultron trailer(s) [here, in case you're not one of the 50 million viewers thus far], yesterday's Marvel event,  more rumors of Cumberbatch playing Dr. Strange [he was a rumored choice even before Joaquin was selected], and getting to know comic-obsessed MA students [one fellow student is even doing his Thesis project on the rhetoric of the comic format]... she has been learning a lot more!  Her most recent exciting discovery is learning a bit about the new pair of faces in the upcoming Avengers sequel: Quicksilver (Aaron Taylor Johnson) and Scarlet Witch (Elizabeth Olsen).  They're the twin children of Magneto (from X-men), though both casting and creative decisions have all but ruled out a MCU / X-men crossover.  In the comics, Scarlet Witch marries Vision, who will played by the brilliant Paul Bettany in Ultron even though he heretofore has voiced JARVIS for the IronMan suit.  Annnyway... she's really enjoying making these connections and getting super stoked for the next Avengers film.

Also, based on a conversation she had with a fellow student today, it is safe to say that after Lana Del Rey's "Once Upon A Dream" and Marvel's eerie adaptation of Pinocchio's "I've Got No Strings" - the film industry (which seems to now be half owned by Disney) is moving to re-examine the darker, ironic side of our childhood experiences.  Just wait till you hear a dark rendition of "The Circle of Life" on Disney's Star Wars: Episode VII.

Next Steps

Have you ever told yourself that this thing you love is just a side thing, a hobby, something you will only love amateurly? And then one day you woke up and realized that all along it was the thing?

Well, I have.

If you've read much of anything I post on here, you know I can boil down quite a few of my favorite things to stories, narrative, adaptations, novels, films, that sort of thing...  Last fall, I began really wrestling with what these passions are for and how they might all fit together.  Graduate school had been weighing on my mind for some time - but grad school for what exactly?  Somehow, I didn't think, "I just really love stories - will you let me back in?" was going to cut it for a personal statement. But, there were times sitting at an office desk when I couldn't help but whisper to myself, "I don't belong here..."

When I finally did allow myself to believe that maybe I could actually pursue this thing I love so deeply, it became clear that going back to school was the necessary step.  So I entered this marathon of applications, I put a label on what I want to research - "transmuted adaptation" - and I started asking for a lot of help.  After a very grueling application process, a lot of prayer, too many vague posts, and anxiously waiting...

I am very excited to announce that I am returning to school this September. I will be pursuing a Master's in English and Film at Oregon State University and, thanks to their generous funding package, I'll also be teaching English composition.

Thinking about graduate school makes me feel like I'm returning home and that I'm venturing into some wilderness all at the same time.  And I'm so excited!  Though I try again and again, stories matter more to me than I can articulate.  So for the next two years, I'm going to give myself to stories, to the power of a classic novel told in a new way, and to inspiring others why we need to keep reading these narratives.

I am going back to school.

Red Rising

Recently I came across this buzzfeed article about up-and-coming NYT best-selling author Pierce Brown.  His def-con-5 nerd level and the description of his dystopian future novel, Red Rising, intrigued me, so I added it to the list.  After a little more research, reading some brief reviews, and discovering we had a mutual friend, I ordered Brown's novel and bumped it up to my next read.  And I'm glad I did.  This, the first book in the "Red Rising Trilogy" was released less than a month ago.  Since then it's maintained a spot on the NYT best-seller's list, won rave reviews, and Universal has bought the film-rights, with a director and producer already attached.  Everything indicates that this is going to be big!

[via]

But let me back up and give my best non-spoilerific summary of Red Rising:

Darrow is a colonist on Mars, born into a color-coded caste-system with Reds - Darrow's people - on the lowest rung and Golds on the very highest.  His community slaves away miles under the surface of Mars, mining materials needed so the Golds can one day terraform their way across the galaxy.  After his wife, Eo, convinces him that freedom is worth any cost, Darrow joins a liberation movement.  But in order to fight for that freedom, he must transform himself into a Gold, attend their prestigious "Institute," and do whatever it takes to infiltrate the highest Gold position possible.

In this world, Brown creates an intense, fast-paced story that examines what freedom means and what it costs. The plot, though tricky at times, is carefully woven and moves incredibly quick.  This includes inciting action(s) extremely early - lots of "They wouldn't actually... Oh my gosh, they are!" moments - creating high stakes early on.  Instead of setting everything up and explaining, Brown does a very good job explaining as he goes, providing clues only as needed.  After reading a few too many first-person, present-tense narrations where I felt a bit smarter than the narrator (Um, hello, Katniss. Guess what - Peeta is only pretending to be a Career to save you), I was grateful that along with Darrow, I was blindsided by one game-changing surprise after another.  Red Rising is one of those books where you might have to cover up the opposite page so as to not spoil one of the many intense moments of the novel.  These were such proper jaw-dropping, hand-over-mouth shocks that, even though I finished 3 days ago, I am still shaking my head, thinking, "Wow!  He just pulled that off."  And despite the high-stakes and driving plot, I was grateful Brown created a sense of resolution amidst incredible suspense at the end of his first novel. 

As the novel progressed, I was grateful that it moved from a straightforward cry of freedom to a realization that, sometimes, there is not such a clear difference between the oppressor and the oppressed.  Darrow learns that a depraved person with power will exploit and manipulate no matter if they were born rich or poor, commentating, "The measure of a man is what he does when he has power." Brown explores not only this complex French-revolution-like lesson, but also a much more current issue of "us vs. them."  Darrow is in the process of learning who the real enemy is.  In one of my favorite lines of the novel, he encounters a Gold and thinks "he doesn't seem a monster.  He should be a monster."  But he discovers things are rarely so simple.  We are a generation that refuses to be defined by the "us vs. them" labels of the 20th century (and continued to cling on to the start of the 21st).  So, telling this story that seems so black and white, but using it to demonstrate social complexity is brilliant.

Now, addressing a concern I've heard a few times... The observant eye will note that The Hunger Games is mentioned no less than 4 times on the cover of Red Rising.  This, combined with certain other parallels in the story, have caused concern Brown's novel was a "ripoff" of Suzanne Collin's brilliant work, but I would argue this isn't the case at all.  Just about any story about oppressed groups in a sci-fi, fantasy, or dystopian-future landscape is going to overlap.  I believe that creativity does not derive simply from originality of plot and characters, but of how a story is told.  The former is something of a myth, but the latter is what made Homer, Shakespeare, Austen, and Tolkien the greats they are.  One of the main issues, specifically, is that a good portion of the "Institute" is set up as a brutal "game" where the competitors are divided into 12 houses where the goal is not killing but conquering the rest of the houses... which includes quite a lot of killing.  This may sound like THG, but if the Institute was in Panem, it would mean the "Games" were for Capitol youths only and that Katniss had to successfully masquerade as a Capitol citizen to even get into the games.  The point is, Red Rising may have moments reminiscent of The Hunger Games, but is far too innovative and engaging enough on its own merit to be accused of "ripping off" or "copy-catting."  The repeated mention in summaries and reviews of THG is little more than an (understandable) marketing ploy.  I'd also mention a few other stories Red Rising reminded me of, including: Braveheart, Pygmalion/My Fair Lady, Ender's Game, Lord of the Rings, Greek Mythology, The Iliad, Gladitorial games, Harry Potter, Star Wars, The Circle Trilogy, Doctor Who, A Few Good Men and many more.

As incredible and moving as Red Rising was, I have to include some potential detractors.  This was an incredibly brutal, gruesome book.  I would hope that for the film to do it justice, it would be rated R.  On nearly all fronts, this book is dealing with mature topics - murder, rape, a "bloodydamn"* lot profanity, mutilation, overall gore, and, what the movies call, "frightening and intense scenes."  While these are heavy and difficult I would add they are rarely if ever gratuitous.  Brown is painting a very particular picture of this violent culture.  Even the profanity has specific meaning with *certain words becoming a sort of passcode.  To be clear, there is enough brutal detail to turn the stomach, but it is all purposeful, not something reveled in.  This necessarily bleak tone is captured well by the tragic and harrowing opening paragraph:

[Warning: Graphic Content] The first thing you should know about me is I am my father's son.  And when they came for him, I did as he asked.  I did not cry.  Not when the Society televised the arrest.  Not when the Golds tried him.  Not when the Grays hanged him.  Mother hit me for that.  My brother Kieran was supposed to be the stoic one.  He was the elder, I the younger.  I was supposed to cry.  Instead, Kieran bawled like a girl when Little Eo tucked a haemanthus into Father's left work-boot and ran back to her own father's side.  My sister Leanna murmured a lament beside me.  I just watched and thought it a shame that he died dancing but without his dancing shoes.
On Mars there is not much gravity.  So you have to pull the feet to break the neck.  They let the loved ones do it.

As difficult as the crude, cruel tone and topic of this book are, my main concern with the book was something else entirely.  There is an ever-growing trend in fiction I can only describe as a morality that purports to be selfless but is at the same time radically ends-justifies-the-means in it's approach.  I have encountered this in books like The Road, Mockingjay, among others. The idea is that any action is excusable because you're doing it for someone else.  This is an extremely complex issue to address, especially in the context of a fight for freedom, and one that has me often re-visiting Jack Nicholson's infamous "you can't handle the truth" speech.  But the multiple disturbing situations and moral quandaries Darrow face cause the reader to pause and reconsider these issues.

Like Katniss (in at least books 1 & 2 of THG), Darrow demonstrates the power of living for something beyond this life, but he has yet to truly learn the lesson of Ender's empathy.  This was a shockingly good debut novel for 26 year old brown and I am eagerly looking forward to see what surprises are ahead for Darrow and where the sequel takes him.  4.5 / 5 Stars.

Favorite Quotes:

“I live for the dream that my children will be born free,” she says. “That they will be what they like. That they will own the land their father gave them.”
“I live for you,” I say sadly.
Eo kisses my cheek. “Then you must live for more.”

“Why is it so horrible?" I ask him. "Life. All this. Why do they need to make us do this? Why do they treat us like we're their slaves?"
"Power."
"Power isn't real. It's just a word” 


"Funny how a single word can change everything in your life."
"It is not funny at all. Steel is power. Money is power. But of all the things in all the worlds, words are power.”

On despair

Lately I've been thinking on despair. Delightful, I know. But it keeps coming up.

Call it seasonal vitamin-D deficiency. Blame it on other circumstances in my life. Settle it as the result of too much melancholy viewing or reading. But, whatever the case, despair has been knocking on my door. 

I'm becoming convinced that despair is the greatest evil. Not the greatest sin - but the end-result & effect of sin. 

Despair is so much more than sadness. I've been thinking on the pinpoint moments in some of my favorite stories when despair enters the picture. 

It's when Peeta doesn't love Katniss. 
It's when Ron leaves Harry. 
Or John fails to find Sherlock's pulse. 
Rose gets separated from the Doctor. 
Frodo Baggins forgets the taste of strawberries. 

Failure. Rejection. Goodbyes. These are always the stories' worst moments. 

But the road to resurrection runs through the grave. 

The greatest stories - both in life & in fiction - force the protagonist to walk a mile or more with despair. I've run up against it a few times. We all have in different ways. 

But there are two conclusions I've come to regarding Despair. 

The first is my prayer in the midst of my despair or any loved one's is that I'd be faithful. A faithful friend. A faithful person. "Frodo wouldn't have got very far without Sam." In fact, according to Tolkien, Sam was the hero of Lord of the Rings… and I can see why. The greatest courage isn't in brandishing glittering swords, but in traversing pain our souls were never designed for. "For the only courage worth calling courage must necessarily mean that the soul passes a breaking point--and does not break."  - GK Chesterton.

The other conclusion is one I came to after talking with my dentist, truly great fellow. The thing is, if despair is the greatest evil, joy must be the greatest good. And I'm not speaking of anything akin to humanist happiness. Many classic philosophers got close to this truth, that joy was the aim, but they all lacked something. Until Christ, "for the joy set before Him, endured the cross," they had no response to despair, and no true reason for joy. But we have. 

My friend, Esther, shared with me today, "Hope is the ability to look the past & present squarely in the face and say, 'I know that my future will make beautiful and light these harsh and dark moments.'" That's what I'm holding onto. 

I look to the stories again and again, not for happy endings, but for hopeful ones. They serve to remind that the truest stories don't end in despair. "When the sun shines, it'll shine out the clearer." Until then, "never cruel or cowardly; never give up, never give in." No, now is the time to take another step through the valley, trusting the mountain is still there. All we can do in the meantime is to hold onto the promises, to wait and to hope. 

31 Days of Books: A Severe Mercy

Title:  A Severe Mercy

Author:  Sheldon Vanauken

Published: 1977

Year I read it:  2012

One sentence summary:  Vanauken's autobiographical narrative of the deep love he and his wife developed; their adventures all around the world, leading them to Oxford; their journey into faith, with the help of Oxfordian friend, "Jack" Lewis; and of their loss, the severe mercy.

Interesting fact:  It contains 18 of Vanauken's letters from C. S. Lewis.

Three reasons to read it:

• This is honest-to-goodness one of the best love stories I've ever read!  The depth, the romance produced from self-sacrifice (and common love for literature), is just astounding.  And it's so refreshing to hear a romance from the man's perspective!  Loved that beginning.
• Oxford!  This book captures Oxford of the '50's - which really hasn't changed much.  See below for some of the best explanations of life in that University town.
• The pain Vanauken goes through - and the faith with which he faces tragedy - are far more than "tear-jerking" or "heart-breaking."  None of those cliche's will do.  This book touches something far deeper.

One reason you maybe shouldn't:

• It has very, very sad parts.

Great quotes:

Love is the final reality; and anyone who does not understand this, be he writer or sage, is a man flawed of wisdom.

We saw self as the ultimate danger to love, which it is.

Coming to England was like coming home, coming to a home half-remembered - but home.

"That's what Oxford is, a place to talk about everything..."

"This, you know, is a time of taking in--taking in friendship, conversation, gaiety, wisdom, knowledge, beauty, holiness--and later, well, there'll be a time of giving out... Now we must store up the strength, the riches all that Oxford had given us, to sustain us after.  She stood there, Oxford, like a mother to us all with her hands heaped with riches."

I tended, indeed, to feel that God Himself dwelt in Oxford, His holy city, where He could hear the bells.

He had been wont to despise emotions: girls were weak, emotions–tears– were weakness. But this morning he was thinking that being a great brain in a tower, nothing but brain, wouldn’t be much fun. No excitement, no dog to love, no joy in the blue sky– no feelings at all. But feelings– feelings are emotions! He was suddenly overwhelmed by the revelation that what makes life worth living is, precisely, the emotions. But then– this was awful!– maybe girls with their tears and laughter were getting more out of life. Shattering! He checked himself, showing one’s emotions was not the thing: having them was. Still, he was dizzy with the revelation. What is beauty but something is responded to with emotion? Courage, at least, is partly emotional. All the splendour of life. But if the best of life is, in fact, emotional, then one wanted the highest, the purest emotions: and that meant joy. Joy was the highest. How did one find joy? In books it was found in love– a great love… So if he wanted the heights of joy, he must have it, if he could find it, in great love. But in the books again, great joy through love always seemed go hand in hand with frightful pain. Still, he thought, looking out across the meadow, still, the joy would be worth the pain– if indeed, they went together. If there were a choice– and he suspected there was– a choice between, on the one hand, the heights and the depths and, on the other hand, some sort of safe, cautious middle way, he, for one, here and now chose the heights and the depths.

31 Days of Books: Surprised by Oxford

I missed yesterday's!  But I promise I'll make it up.

If you want to read some funny stories connected to me and today's book, you can read about them here and here.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Title:  Surprised by Oxford

Author:  Carolyn Weber

Published:  2011

Year I read it:  2011

One sentence summary:  In the memoir of her first year of grad school studying English at Oxford, Weber recalls her journey into new realms of academia, relationships, and faith.

Interesting fact:  My cousin had the author as a professor and I found this out only after she had moved - missed connection. 

Three reasons to read it:

• You want to talk about intertextuality?  Weber, now a lit professor, weaves her story with marvelous connections to famous authors, beautiful passages, and a load of U2 lyrics.  It's a beautiful read for any fellow bibliophile.
• While reading this book, I walked into my mom's room and said, "Mom, I have a problem.  I'm falling in love with a guy in a book.  And he's not fictional.  And he's not dead."  All that to say, the romance in this book is a delight!  And the fact that it takes place in Oxford doesn't hurt...
• It is so refreshing to hear of an intellectual's journey of faith.  Weber gets vulnerable, sharing about her wrestling through skepticism, feminism, and a host of other things.  I loved reading about her wrestling and the revelation she got through it.

One reason you maybe shouldn't:

• I really can't think of any detractors for this one.  Highly recommend it!

Great quotes:

"Even Oxford's infrastructure was conducive to contemplation, revelation. Its walls seemed infused with mystery... It was tempting to think that resting my head against htis stony chest would betray a heartbeat, or by putting my ear to this shell, I could hear the distant but undeniable advancing and then retreating of whispered wisdom." 

"Life is messy. Life is beatuiful and terrible and messy. So why would we expect a faith in this life that is easy to understand?" 

"Any student of literature knows that metaphor is far more precise than the literal..." 

"Books become alive not only when read, but when shared..."
"A happy ending makes up for a lot."

"Dead authors really do make the best friends."

To know the words in the books

This is a poem inspired by my 3-year-old nephew, Ross.  He's just beginning to learn his letters after announcing to his mom, "I don't know the words in the books like you and dad."  That line really moved me, so I wrote the following.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Synapses form in the child's brain -
connections of how and why and when
and where things work.
The codex marvels his months-old mind -
flipping pages, imbibing color, revealing
knowledge and narrative.
Growing older, learning the words,
hearing the stories now, and imploring,
"Read it again."
Older still, he realizes when "grown ups"
open the book, they see more than
shapes and symbols.
The child knows, implicitly - even if
inarticulately - that to some the book
offers impartation.
Seeking the gift, he whispers, "Mom,
I don't know the words in the books
like you and dad ."
So, he discovers another level of learning
Sensory of the mind, not of the fingers
or nose or tongue.
He begins the distinctly human process
of extracting meaning from symbols
and sounds from shapes.
The pain and frustration and delight of
learning become milestones on his quest
to possess this gift.
This precious boy, just setting out on
the road of language and learning
makes me marvel.
For like the little boy, I am seeking
to "know the words in the books,"
to extract the meaning.
He reminds me of the gift, of my
gratitude and of my hope to share
this impartation.

Writing: Author, Narrator, Character

Hello!  Today I'm sharing something I've been excited to tell you about for a while.  Back in August, my good friend, Lois, contacted me about joining a new mini-writing group.  We would be creating stories round-robin style: each person would begin a story, pass it along to the next person, and by the end of the project, we would have four separate stories with four authors each. 

We got together yesterday for a tea party to unveil our four pieces.  It was such a blast!  We laughed over each unexpected plot twist (and over the persistent fandom references - do we get to count those as "intertextuality"?).  But the laughter was certainly not caused by poor writing.  Both during the writing process and looking back on it, I was consistently impressed by the caliber of the these ladies.  We all quickly agreed we will be doing this again!

[The four writers* and their tea** pot]
*Nancy, myself, Lois, and Sami
Also, I love that we're all in dresses and skirts
**tea powers writing

I wanted to share at least one of the pieces as an example.  This is less of a story, but it was one of my favorites.  We closed with this one and I was honestly moved by it.  Nancy turned to me and asked, "Samara, are you crying?"  No... ok, maybe tearing up.  I just really love this piece.

So without further ado:

Author, Narrator, Character

Lois:

I could write an entire novel about hands, she thought. Wouldn’t that be interesting.

The problem with writing has always been first sentences. There are too many good ones already written. How could she possibly compete?

Mrs. Dalloway said she would buy the flowers herself.
There was no possibility of taking a walk that day.
It is a truth universally acknowledged that, a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife.
As Gregor Samsa awoke from a night of uneasy dreaming, he found himself transformed in his bed into a giant insect.

How do you even begin? she wondered.
The dreamy poorly-dressed twelve year old of her past had no qualms about beginnings. A prologue came to her in an evening and she began chapter one the next morning.
A boy, about the age of 17, lying in a dark and musty dungeon. 
Oh lord, she groaned. Scintillating writing my dear.
And a character. She needed a character. Someone for her readers to love and identity with. Someone they would root for.
Herself?
Is she the character of this story?

Excuse me, let’s just pause a moment and remove this layer of third-person narrative. Can I do that? Is that allowed?

I am the author. And the narrator. And the character. And I am rather pleased to make your acquaintance. Would a formal introduction be considered tacky? Or cliché?

We interrupt this story that you have just started reading and are probably about to put down because honestly what is even happening here for a relatively important announcement.

An open letter to future high school students and possibly future English majors:

If you are reading this short story because I became an award-winning, world-famous author and this pithy piece of writing is deemed important enough to be studied in a class and you have to write a paper about something to do with this story, here is an idea: metafiction. I love all things meta. And already, there has been plenty of metafiction. Also intertextuality. Ask your teacher.

Sincerely,

the author, narrator, and character

Thank you for your patience.

What’s all this, you must be asking.
What indeed.
She was asking herself a similar question. Lying on her bed. Drinking tea. Writing a story.
What was it all about, this living thing?
And…
was she even alive?

Samara: 

And if author, did she create? Or if character, did she discover? But if narrator, whose script was she using?
Thus beginning the cycle again.
At times I was one, then the other. Now I am all three.
Three-sided. Externally, multi-faceted. Internally, trapped?
No matter. She defined, was defined by those three sides.
Honor. Hero. Hate.
Awarded. Awkward. Ambivalent.
Make. Made. Mediator.
Author. Character. Narrator.

But then, enough introspection. She could introspect all day.
And wasn't that what had ruined her in the first place?
Yes. No. Moving along.

Hands!
"Hands touching hands."
Hands to work.
Hands show age or vigor.
Hands in marriage.
For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch,
And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss.
I'm telling you - intertextuality...

Nancy

But which hands to write about?
Which hands, which story of hands, are most worthy?
She wondered.
I wondered.
The problem with inspiration is finding it in the first place.
Does one look for it, or simply wait around for its arrival?
I can look under rocks, inside the working gears of an old clock, or in the works of the great writers before her.

After her, even?

But although one can look high and low for that magic spark of inspiration, one can never guarantee a result.
Perhaps I must wait for that spark, that neuron surge erupts in your brain which will expand the horizons of my subconscious.
Am I—is she—even worthy of being a protagonist? Is this plot worthy of consumption?
Will my tale will quickly fade among the multitudes of other mediocre fictions?
In the world. In the word.

She lies in her bed, buried in her head.
Why?
Why do I want/need/crave this story be written?

Her tea grows cold in her cup in her hand in her room.
The question haunts her skull, eats her soul.

Is she alive? Am I alive because I—a being of some abstract sort—feel alive?
Do I look well if no one else can see me? Can a voice make sense if no one hears it? What proof have I that I matter if no one else validates my very existence? Perhaps I am myself a mere idea. A figment of imagination of that bored college student lying on her bed.

Her tea was drained, her eyes were strained.

She is all three parts of the cycle—author, narrator, character.
And yet…why does she feel so alone?

Look under more rocks, my dear. Perhaps there is another element? An ingredient as of yet missing?
I look up.
What do I see?

Hands.
Hands??
Whose hands?
….Your hands?

Hello! Who are you? I was so wrapped up in myself and all of these intertextual deep deep thoughts, that I forgot that there was another person in the room.

How could I have forgotten the hands of my reader!
Your beautifully unique and curious hands, which hold my pages even now.

You are the inspiration that I have been looking for. I realize now what had been missing from my story: someone to listen.

How strange…is it very often that the author-narrator-character falls in love with their reader?

Another open letter:

You may be asking yourself how on earth the Author/Narrator/Character of a short story could fall in love with you, The Reader, when so many before you have read this same short story.

The answer: because each time a new person reads a story, they make it their own and adopt their own reaction. This is not a one-way monologue, my sweet, sweet Reader. This is a conversation. I am interested in what you have to say.

Sincerely,

Your beloved Author, Narrator, and Character

But…what will happen once my story ends?
Will my life end as well? Will we never speak again?
My voice feels complete now… my voice is being heard across the wrinkles of time and space.
It is up to you now, how this relationship continues.

Sami

I set down your pages and feel my world rock a little. How. How could this amazing author know? I have fallen in love with these pages. My teacher assigned this well-known author and I thought you would be one of the many generic, boring assignments of my life. He wants us to respond to you, the Author, Narrator and Character.

You have made me contemplate my own validity. How I interpret my own reality. I hold you in my hands and I wonder what you, the Author, Narrator, Character once held and who else has held you and been drastically changed.

I want you to know you are heard and that the greatest gift of all is to love and be loved in return.

There you go. Intertextuality.

Love,
Your Reader

Wednesday Creatives: Obvious State

Ok, I know I've mentioned them before here and here and probably one too many times in conversation... but it's worth dedicating today's Creatives to Obvious State - because today I finally bought my first lit poster from them! 

A bit of background for those who I haven't talked to...

Obvious State is a multi-disciplinary creative studio co-run by Nichole and Evan Robertson. Our projects reflect our shared love of Paris, language and literature.

Obvious State is a husband / wife creative duo.  An English major, she worked in fashion & beauty; he went to Julliard and pursued the stage - both in acting & music.  After starting life and their family in the big city, they felt the need for change.  So, in 2009, they packed up their life in NYC and moved their things and two boys to an itty-bitty place in Paris.  They are currently back in the states - though frequently hopping the Atlantic to pursue their creative projects.

[Can you say "couple crush"?]

They started creating... and they haven't stopped.

She found a niche as a photographer and blogs about their adventures.  He designs fantastic posters based on quotes from famous authors. 



[Someday this will hang in my kitchen.]




[Love this one for This Side of Paradise]




[She also has done some Illustrations, each capitalizing on multiple images.] 




[Paris in Mint!]




[Assorted "Paris in Color"]


Her breakout book, Paris in Color is regularly featured by Shakespeare & Co.;  I happily spotted his posters on display on my last trip to Powell's.




[They, understandably, didn't want us taking pictures of the artwork... but they were right above my head in this shot]

 Together they've recently launched an ambitious and exciting project to create a virtual experience - using photography, video, and text - to give their readers "a day in a Parisian neighborhood."  The app and first neighborhood for their "The Paris Journal" are available free on the app store

I so appreciate the Evans' sense of adventure and their creative vision.  It helps that we share an affinity for Paris, Norton anthologies, and the strong sense both that "a picture is worth a thousand words" and that "a word is worth a thousand pictures."

I've been waiting to amass a few of their items for quite a while now.  They have shown up on Birthday & Christmas & general wish lists for over a year now.  This past birthday, I was given the Paris in Color: Notecards by a sib. 



[These now await frames and more wall space... but I can't wait to display them]


They currently have a 2-day promotional going on - go visit either of their Etsy's and use FACEBOOK20 when checking out to receive 20% off.  The promotion was the added incentive for me to purchase one of the literature posters.  I'm going to warn you - it's a reeeally hard decision to just choose one.  But I just told myself, I'd be back to purchase several more.



[Paris inspired fashion. Also, apparently my striped green shirt likes Obvious State too ;) ]

If you like Paris or literature or photography or adventure [or life], you will enjoy browsing their sites and shops.  Check out obviousstate.com, their page on facebook, The Paris Journal, their Etsy shops (listed below), or @obviousstate on twitter.



*All photography comes from obviousstate.com or the Etsy sites for Obvious State or The Paris Print Shop.

Do you know what's torture? Going to the dentist.

No! Not for the reasons you're thinking. Torture is your dentist bringing up Chesterton, Tolkien, Lewis, Eugene Peterson, a couple novels, the beauty & wonder God created around us - and not being able to say anything because his hand is in your mouth!!

:/ :)

In the midst of all the running around and little things that need to be taken care of, I'm so grateful for those few moments that sometimes occur at work when Bob and I stumble onto talking about arts and culture--because that's when I discover more and more of our similarities.

I didn't think today would afford one of those moments, and I'm not sure how it happened.  But in the middle of talking about one issue or another we suddenly found ourselves praising Mumford, commenting on the quiet brilliance of Gotye (no matter how overplayed), and agreeing that (while thoroughly enjoyable) Lewis is a bit too literal for us.  We prefer the layered ambiguity of TS Eliot or Bob Dylan.  He's got me beat having read Lord of the Rings 8 times (I'm working on it =) and he had front row tickets to a U2 concert in Hawaii a few years back.  "Adele absolutely deserved every accolade she received"--I agreed.  Both holding our breath for CBS's debut of Elementary tonight.  And he promised he was getting back to Sherlock this weekend--only "Hounds" and the "Fall" left.  "You've seen them a few times each probably..."  A few, Bob.  A few.

It was 8 minutes at the most... but the conversation made my day!

Today, 75 years ago, a slim children's book was unleashed on the world... and it changed everything!

[That may sound dramatic (from me? shocking!), but it really is true. More to come on that later]

Happy anniverssary to The Hobbit!

"In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit." How marvelous!

I recently re-read The Hobbit [and am now in the midst of the Trilogy] and was blown away all over again. Stay tuned or be warned: I will shortly begin posting a series I've started on revelations from re-reading Tolkien =)

You remember those amazing lit-inspired posters?  Well, I recently found some of the artist's back-story to making them, and it made me love them even more, so without further adieu... his words [and a few of mine] -

You are what you underline [LOVE that!]

The best thing about paperbacks (apart from the smell, of course) is that when a little jewel of a sentence grabs you, you can underline it. If you’ve only ever read a book on a screen (hey, it’s not far off), then let me explain: Underlining something in your book is the original “interactive” media. Think of it as a hyperlink that redirects to your own thoughts [so true!], and like a hyperlink, it can leave the rest of the story behind and open up a new window of ideas, insights, musings. 

That’s the spirit of this series of illustrations. I took little snippets of text and ideas from some of my favorite authors (with some notable exceptions that I’m saving), and let the words be a springboard for an illustration. The illustrations incorporate and interact with the text and hopefully add up to something that engages the mind as much as the eye. 

The plan is to complete around 50 illustrations in a year. I’ve posted some of them below.  There are 23 completed [now 24, see below ;], which you can see in my Etsy shop, Obvious State. 

I’d love to hear what you think. 

- Evan

[How cool is that?]

 Well, I'm hooked... can't wait to see the next one he creates =)

She may kill me for posting this, but had to share at least part of this conversation with my very dear, lit-nerd friend...

Over a lunch-time text conversation, she and I were discussing Lord of the Rings, being lit-nerds, and people's eye-rolling at our hilarious sentiment:

me: Yesterday, I told my family that it would be wonderful to name a dog "Strider" - they just laughed at me =/ =)

lh: That is a perfect name! I still want to have two cats named Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson...

me: Gaaaah! I'd probably instantly fall for a man with a dog named Pilot =')

Oh goodness... I was tearing up with delight. Love that girl, and love those names!

Other literary pet-names??

So... a few weeks back I started studying for the GRE's =/

In October, I will be taking both the general one and the subject test in literature.

Initially, I felt pretty good about my grasp on the literary side of things. I mean, I haven't read nearly as much as I should -- and certainly not as much as some of my friends [ahem!]. But while there are many books in the canon I haven't read, I have in one way or another become familiar with quite a few of them. Studies of English tend to include some knowledge through osmosis. For instance, I've not yet read Vanity Fair or Thackeray at all [ =/ ] - but Jane Eyre is dedicated to Thackeray and so one sort of picks up on things. There are famous opening lines and poems referred to off-handedly. And, of course, Shakespeare abounds everywhere.

But! I was in for a very rude awakening when I cracked open my GRE English practice test and this was the first question I came across:

Ummm... I've read Wordsworth (actually his Tintern Abbey) and Eliot. But, to my recollection, I have never even heard of the others - yikes! But more than the particular authors they're listing - I was astonished at the form of the question. Identification from three, non-sequential lines? 

Oh, heaven help us!

Alright... back to my study session.

Absolute favorite etsy shop right now: Obvious State. Wow!

Just a few faves:

So, I've mentioned this film before... but now the trailer is out!!

The Words:

Eeek! The plot reminds me of one of my favorite books (I don't want to spoil it by giving the title. Ash - wink wink), but I don't mind. Anyway... this just looks lovely =)

[via Lois]

Doing research for my honors thesis when I came across this lovely =)

Seriously? Austen's Juvenilia was first published with a preface from Gilbert the Keith Chesterton?

Haha... favorite authors and happiness upon happiness!

A few goodies:

"It might seem a very wild use of the wrong word to say that Jane Austen was elemental. It might even seem even a little wanton to insist that she was original. Yet this objection would come from the critic not really considering what is meant by an element or an origin...

If it seemed odd to call her elemental, it may seem equally odd to call her exuberant. These pages betray her secret; which is that she was naturally exuberant. And her power came, as all power comes, from the control and direction of exuberance...

Jane Austen was not inflamed or inspired or even moved to be a genius; she simply was a genius."

I don't know who made me respect who more... but I adore them both tonight more than ever!