Do you remember, when you were a kid, when a film or a show really captured your imagination?
Like when I was seven, I fell in love with The Little Mermaid, and had an ariel doll, and pretended to be a mermaid in the bath.
And when I was four I was convinced I was Lucy Pevensie (I was the youngest of 4 kids, and quite chunky, like in the BBC show) and spent a lot of time watching the show, reading the books, messing about in cupboards ...
But you know when you're life is all consumed by this story that's captured your imagination that you live and breathe it and can't last a day without refreshing the whole wonderful story in your mind?
That really pissed off your parents.
Case and point, my son. He fell in love with toy story a couple of weeks ago. He has to start his day with it, and end his day with it. His nursery have the songs on CD; I heard them when I picked him up yesterday. The fruit on sale in tesco's at the moment has a toy story book offer on it, so now I get asked for 'Buzz Odinge' and 'Woody Pear' instead of bog standard fruit (and that boy needs no more encouragement with eating fruit. He hits his 5-a-day before breakfast. I don't love his nappies). I've got him a woody doll for easter, but next time you're in a shop, check out the range of toy story eggs for sale - eggs alone. There's a bed spread and blanket too. Our tesco's is playing the first movie over and over, so I can't even escape it if I escape the house.
I'm toy story'd out. I used to love that film, but now ... the talking woody will be a mistake. I already know the quotes, but I'll hear them when the film's not on now.
But we've got a definite date to see the third film, the day before we leave for Florida (where, of course, we'll eat at Pizza Planet) and he'll probably take his woody to that. It's going to be his first cinema trip too. But that might drive me completely crazy. We'll see.
Wednesday, 31 March 2010
Tuesday, 30 March 2010
Ann M Martin
I'm finally back to blabbing incoherently about authors I've read/who've influenced me. And frankly, it's about time I mentioned Ann M Martin.
If you don't know, Ann wrote The Babysitters Club books. I hadn't even heard of them, but when I was 9, I was given The Truth About Stacey (book3) and Boy Crazy Stacey (book8), and I loved them to pieces. I wish now I didn't have such a sweet tooth, and had saved all my pocket money to negociate more books out my parents (I was creating loan structures with them from the age of 7, when I wanted a set of quints cousins for £3. So pricey for my 75p a week pocket money ...) but I still had a fair collection by the time I was 13/14. I know I should have grown out of them by then, but I was amazed that she'd written so much about this one group of girls - there's almost 200 of the original series, another 20 of the restyled series, 15 specials, 30-odd mysteries, plus the Little Sister and California Diaries spin offs. And since getting more disposable income, I've slowly tried to get the complete series - there's a lot of my room dedicated to those little brick spines. And even more of my storage.
I have reread some in recent years. I kind of wish I hadn't. The writing is so poor, I mean, it was a revelation when I was 9. But I don't think little kids could follow the writing properly these days. Well, maybe they can with the later books, but the first books are so vague in descriptions and the storylines are rushed through a couple of weeks, and she doesn't let things gestate. I worry I'm the same with my writing tbh.
Anyway, I remember reading someone's opinion on amazon about the series, saying they liked Stacey best because she was the only one with any flaws ... but I disagree. Stacey was the best character in the series because she was more like a typical teenager. She had fleeting crushes, she felt betrayed by some people she loved the most (her parents, her boyfriend), she went through phases of hating her friends (we've all been there ...) but she always rationalised everything she did, even if it was just that that was where she needed to be, to grow, or if it were just that she was young and allowed to make mistakes. The other characters, Mary Anne and Kristy especially, were so wound up on their stereotype that it was hard to see if they acknowledged what they actually needed for growth. Stacey changed the most in the books, which considering they had so many birthdays/Christmases/Halloweens etc, would make the most sense (and despite the amount of aforementioned celebrations, they remained 13 after book 10. Before, they were all 12).
California Diaries was good in the sense that Dawn's world got unsettled, the edges became blurred and she couldn't be a stereotype anymore. But still - one of her friends was anorexic, another had an abusive boyfriend, another had a suicidal friend ... it sounded like she was putting speech marks around a text book and using the books as a point to preach from. No subtlety ... no real art.
I loved her growing up, and The Babysitters Club will always be a big part of my reading history, but now I'm a little analyst ... not so much.
Sorry Ann. I'm sorry I grew up.
If you don't know, Ann wrote The Babysitters Club books. I hadn't even heard of them, but when I was 9, I was given The Truth About Stacey (book3) and Boy Crazy Stacey (book8), and I loved them to pieces. I wish now I didn't have such a sweet tooth, and had saved all my pocket money to negociate more books out my parents (I was creating loan structures with them from the age of 7, when I wanted a set of quints cousins for £3. So pricey for my 75p a week pocket money ...) but I still had a fair collection by the time I was 13/14. I know I should have grown out of them by then, but I was amazed that she'd written so much about this one group of girls - there's almost 200 of the original series, another 20 of the restyled series, 15 specials, 30-odd mysteries, plus the Little Sister and California Diaries spin offs. And since getting more disposable income, I've slowly tried to get the complete series - there's a lot of my room dedicated to those little brick spines. And even more of my storage.
I have reread some in recent years. I kind of wish I hadn't. The writing is so poor, I mean, it was a revelation when I was 9. But I don't think little kids could follow the writing properly these days. Well, maybe they can with the later books, but the first books are so vague in descriptions and the storylines are rushed through a couple of weeks, and she doesn't let things gestate. I worry I'm the same with my writing tbh.
Anyway, I remember reading someone's opinion on amazon about the series, saying they liked Stacey best because she was the only one with any flaws ... but I disagree. Stacey was the best character in the series because she was more like a typical teenager. She had fleeting crushes, she felt betrayed by some people she loved the most (her parents, her boyfriend), she went through phases of hating her friends (we've all been there ...) but she always rationalised everything she did, even if it was just that that was where she needed to be, to grow, or if it were just that she was young and allowed to make mistakes. The other characters, Mary Anne and Kristy especially, were so wound up on their stereotype that it was hard to see if they acknowledged what they actually needed for growth. Stacey changed the most in the books, which considering they had so many birthdays/Christmases/Halloweens etc, would make the most sense (and despite the amount of aforementioned celebrations, they remained 13 after book 10. Before, they were all 12).
California Diaries was good in the sense that Dawn's world got unsettled, the edges became blurred and she couldn't be a stereotype anymore. But still - one of her friends was anorexic, another had an abusive boyfriend, another had a suicidal friend ... it sounded like she was putting speech marks around a text book and using the books as a point to preach from. No subtlety ... no real art.
I loved her growing up, and The Babysitters Club will always be a big part of my reading history, but now I'm a little analyst ... not so much.
Sorry Ann. I'm sorry I grew up.
Honesty corner
So ... I had a comment the other day, asking why I called myself zee/zeebee (zeezee, ker-ray-zee-zee, zeena ... variants of zee basically). It's a pretty long, dull story, but as you asked, I will answer it.
However .... in the meantime, if anyone else wants to ask anything, however brutal, comment on this post and I'll answer them all, say, by the end of the week? If this is the only question I'm going to get then ... well, aren't you guys in for a treat!
Just to pad this blog entry out a little, since I loathe short posts, a few facts/stats for you to ignore:
I have reached chapter five of The Picture Of Dorian Gray (which, thanks to film marketing, I keep calling Portrait. I have noticed. I'm sorry. I'll stop.)
I'm up to chapter 13 of Harry Potter And The Goblet Of Fire, which I'm reading to my son. We started Harry Potter And The Philosopher's Stone two years ago. I'm determined to finish the entire series with him before he's five. Two years to go ...
In terms of Budding, the story I'm writing at the moment (which I'll call a book once it's bound by a publishing house, by the way) I have now written 98,112 words over 241 pages, and I'm so close to the end I can smell it. This is in comparison to the first one, Uprooted, which has 110,808 words over 256 pages. I don't quite understand how there can be 10,000 words difference over 15 pages but hey, that don't matter. I now have to properly brainstorm for the third one, Wilting (I know, but all I can come up with is flower analogies ... )
And when I tagged on this entry, 10 different authors whose first name starts with 'J' came up. Maybe I should have a literary alterego, lol ...
However .... in the meantime, if anyone else wants to ask anything, however brutal, comment on this post and I'll answer them all, say, by the end of the week? If this is the only question I'm going to get then ... well, aren't you guys in for a treat!
Just to pad this blog entry out a little, since I loathe short posts, a few facts/stats for you to ignore:
I have reached chapter five of The Picture Of Dorian Gray (which, thanks to film marketing, I keep calling Portrait. I have noticed. I'm sorry. I'll stop.)
I'm up to chapter 13 of Harry Potter And The Goblet Of Fire, which I'm reading to my son. We started Harry Potter And The Philosopher's Stone two years ago. I'm determined to finish the entire series with him before he's five. Two years to go ...
In terms of Budding, the story I'm writing at the moment (which I'll call a book once it's bound by a publishing house, by the way) I have now written 98,112 words over 241 pages, and I'm so close to the end I can smell it. This is in comparison to the first one, Uprooted, which has 110,808 words over 256 pages. I don't quite understand how there can be 10,000 words difference over 15 pages but hey, that don't matter. I now have to properly brainstorm for the third one, Wilting (I know, but all I can come up with is flower analogies ... )
And when I tagged on this entry, 10 different authors whose first name starts with 'J' came up. Maybe I should have a literary alterego, lol ...
Sunday, 28 March 2010
Typy, typy!
So, you know I was bleating on about my writing in a few posts, I had a block, I didn't know how I was going to get another one full, two half chapters, out of my story? I've written 16 pages in word so far of chapter 16, and don't think I'm really halfway through it. Whoops. It's going to be the longest chapter of the thing ... but ha, shove it writer's block, shove it! To be fair, I was all set to go on to one scene and before I know it the characters are taking themselves off somewhere else, but I was thinking the other day I needed a character in it more. And he's part of this scene that just barrelled its way in there ... so kudos Foster, kudos.
This is a weird way to write, isn't it? I mean, some scenes I think over for ages before I write, let them develop, some scenes I role-play through and write down, not exactly word for word, but definitely gist for gist. And then there's buggers like this one that are just like 'excuse me, I'm meant to come in here, did you not know that?' Um, no. Oh, and I think I had this block more because I have no idea how I'm going to manage the next one. I mean, I will, but I have to organise my thoughts more. I've written loads, but it might as well be notes on napkins in a box right now. I tried sticking it all together in word, but that just made it worse for me. I do have a list of scenes that should happen, but they're a line or two per chapter, not a chapter's worth of information.
Anyway, deeply disturbed this morning when I woke up. I'll confess right now, though nowhere else, that I think a few Jonas Brothers songs are okay. One of them in particular I relate to this story. So I was listening to one the other day ... and thinking up this scene that I'm about to write. And I guess it was on my way to work I was doing it, because the Jonas Brothers were in my dream, as certain characters, acting out the scenes I was thinking up in the middle of my work. I think about way too much all at once, it's so not on.
It's okay, I'll overplay Jack's Mannequin. I've been balancing Jonas Brothers out a lot lately like this. Although, got into the Kooks ... and Mcfly's Bubblewrap ... and I bought 101 Power Ballads ... most of my current music is pretty mellow. I'm obviously doing too much lol, I need mellow music to chill me out. I miss NFG and screamo ...
This is a weird way to write, isn't it? I mean, some scenes I think over for ages before I write, let them develop, some scenes I role-play through and write down, not exactly word for word, but definitely gist for gist. And then there's buggers like this one that are just like 'excuse me, I'm meant to come in here, did you not know that?' Um, no. Oh, and I think I had this block more because I have no idea how I'm going to manage the next one. I mean, I will, but I have to organise my thoughts more. I've written loads, but it might as well be notes on napkins in a box right now. I tried sticking it all together in word, but that just made it worse for me. I do have a list of scenes that should happen, but they're a line or two per chapter, not a chapter's worth of information.
Anyway, deeply disturbed this morning when I woke up. I'll confess right now, though nowhere else, that I think a few Jonas Brothers songs are okay. One of them in particular I relate to this story. So I was listening to one the other day ... and thinking up this scene that I'm about to write. And I guess it was on my way to work I was doing it, because the Jonas Brothers were in my dream, as certain characters, acting out the scenes I was thinking up in the middle of my work. I think about way too much all at once, it's so not on.
It's okay, I'll overplay Jack's Mannequin. I've been balancing Jonas Brothers out a lot lately like this. Although, got into the Kooks ... and Mcfly's Bubblewrap ... and I bought 101 Power Ballads ... most of my current music is pretty mellow. I'm obviously doing too much lol, I need mellow music to chill me out. I miss NFG and screamo ...
Saturday, 27 March 2010
Well, isn't that a kick in the crotch.
My new burst of energy lasted until this morning, I had a half hour work out on my wii and ate breakfast, then went to work. And a couple of hours later, I felt really teary. I still do actually.
My mother thinks I must be tired. And I admit, putting High Fidelity on because the guy I used to work with at Uni had mentioned it on twitter at 11.30 at night and trying to watch it probably wasn't condusive to feeling good come the morning. Didn't help that one of my manager's was being his usual annoying self either.
So anyway, early (as in, before half ten) night for me tonight. But I've cracked into the first couple of chapters of The Portrait Of Dorian Gray now and I'm intrigued. I can see why Oscar Wilde stood trial for the content, they all sound like raging homo's. Not that it's a bad thing, but the Victorian era would have it down as evil or something.
I'm not in my most cohesive mood right now. I need a drink, and sleeps. Sorry.
My mother thinks I must be tired. And I admit, putting High Fidelity on because the guy I used to work with at Uni had mentioned it on twitter at 11.30 at night and trying to watch it probably wasn't condusive to feeling good come the morning. Didn't help that one of my manager's was being his usual annoying self either.
So anyway, early (as in, before half ten) night for me tonight. But I've cracked into the first couple of chapters of The Portrait Of Dorian Gray now and I'm intrigued. I can see why Oscar Wilde stood trial for the content, they all sound like raging homo's. Not that it's a bad thing, but the Victorian era would have it down as evil or something.
I'm not in my most cohesive mood right now. I need a drink, and sleeps. Sorry.
Friday, 26 March 2010
Energy
I'm going to leave off the subject of books, and my silly, silly friends for a while. Or this post.
I have so much energy right now.
Or would have if I could be bothered to stand up (actually, am being all geeky and checking my cafe world and happy friends apps on facebook for a sec) so am jumping back on my wii in a bit.
I think I'm just in a good mood, that's all it is. Work was hysterical. I can't remember who noticed it, but Lizzy, Sally and me were all taking it in turns to make Emma blush. All we had to do was say one name, haha ... she's like a red hulk.
And then my very best friends on the entire planet are talking about a holiday, either end of this year or sometime next year. I wanna go so badly. I promised mum going to New York last July would be my make up holiday for missing EuroDisney, but since it was only me and Cassie, I don't think it counts. I don't mind where we go (somewhere hot would be nice though) so long as we're together. But just talking about it has psyched me up, got my planning head on. I'm never happier than when planning something like this. Thank you Cassie, for bringing it up!
I have so much energy right now.
Or would have if I could be bothered to stand up (actually, am being all geeky and checking my cafe world and happy friends apps on facebook for a sec) so am jumping back on my wii in a bit.
I think I'm just in a good mood, that's all it is. Work was hysterical. I can't remember who noticed it, but Lizzy, Sally and me were all taking it in turns to make Emma blush. All we had to do was say one name, haha ... she's like a red hulk.
And then my very best friends on the entire planet are talking about a holiday, either end of this year or sometime next year. I wanna go so badly. I promised mum going to New York last July would be my make up holiday for missing EuroDisney, but since it was only me and Cassie, I don't think it counts. I don't mind where we go (somewhere hot would be nice though) so long as we're together. But just talking about it has psyched me up, got my planning head on. I'm never happier than when planning something like this. Thank you Cassie, for bringing it up!
Thursday, 25 March 2010
No. No. NO!
Suddenly, all my friends are telling me about how they're suddenly dating people (except those who weren't single before the last few weeks) ... which y'know, I love. I want my friends to be happy. Especially in ways I can't make them happy, romance and the like.
Except ... oh, you're a fool. I want to tell you but I don't want to be the one to make you unhappy. And you'll never read this so I can spout my two cents here.
He broke your heart already. Twice. He couldn't be bothered to find the time for you, then went off with any old girl. Twice. Yet you're back with him and want us to be all 'oh-em-gee, I'm so pleased for you!' ... I said what I thought last time he broke up with you. I never, ever thought I'd see that you were stupid enough or so lacking in self esteem that you'd take it again. Don't you remember how last time, he did it when you needed him the most? No one should have to make the sorts of gamble you did, literally, with your heart, and he skived off to break your real one while you still had it (I think it's obvious who I'm talking about. I can't be the only one thinking this, can I? Does it just not matter now she's had the surgery?) ... I'm almost speechless. You know, to your face. I just hope you're ready for it this time.
I know people hate when you ditch your friends because you found someone ... but I feel like to an extent, I want to be the one who ditched because of that someone they found. Does that make sense?
I'll end my rant. I've half tidied my room. It's a feat. How does it get so messy in two weeks? I only bought like, 15 books in that time! I'm curbing my spending though, 2 lots of nursery fees out within a fortnight has hit my account hard. Plus, I'm off to Florida in July (Harry Potter land!) and I'll be going to a freemason dinner-dance end of next month too. Apart from what's absolutely necessary, I cannot spend any more on books (and really, I should plough my way through what I have first, no?). I also can't spend any more on junk food, since I'm slowly becoming a tear-drop shape, rather than hourglass. Gross.
Except ... oh, you're a fool. I want to tell you but I don't want to be the one to make you unhappy. And you'll never read this so I can spout my two cents here.
He broke your heart already. Twice. He couldn't be bothered to find the time for you, then went off with any old girl. Twice. Yet you're back with him and want us to be all 'oh-em-gee, I'm so pleased for you!' ... I said what I thought last time he broke up with you. I never, ever thought I'd see that you were stupid enough or so lacking in self esteem that you'd take it again. Don't you remember how last time, he did it when you needed him the most? No one should have to make the sorts of gamble you did, literally, with your heart, and he skived off to break your real one while you still had it (I think it's obvious who I'm talking about. I can't be the only one thinking this, can I? Does it just not matter now she's had the surgery?) ... I'm almost speechless. You know, to your face. I just hope you're ready for it this time.
I know people hate when you ditch your friends because you found someone ... but I feel like to an extent, I want to be the one who ditched because of that someone they found. Does that make sense?
I'll end my rant. I've half tidied my room. It's a feat. How does it get so messy in two weeks? I only bought like, 15 books in that time! I'm curbing my spending though, 2 lots of nursery fees out within a fortnight has hit my account hard. Plus, I'm off to Florida in July (Harry Potter land!) and I'll be going to a freemason dinner-dance end of next month too. Apart from what's absolutely necessary, I cannot spend any more on books (and really, I should plough my way through what I have first, no?). I also can't spend any more on junk food, since I'm slowly becoming a tear-drop shape, rather than hourglass. Gross.
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